Why We Chase Emotionally Unavailable People: Trying to Rewrite the Story of Our Worth

Not everyone chases love that feels good.
Some of us chase love that feels familiar.

Not easy. Not secure.
Just… familiar.

We’re drawn to people who keep us guessing. People who say the right things but can’t follow through. People who are hot and cold, in and out — just enough to give us hope, but never enough to feel safe.

And maybe, on the surface, we call it chemistry.
But deeper down? It’s recognition.

The Familiarity of Emotional Distance

If you grew up with emotionally unavailable caregivers—adults who were distant, preoccupied, unpredictable, or only responsive when you behaved a certain way — then your nervous system may have internalized that as “normal.”

You learned that love had to be earned.
That you had to work hard for closeness.
That your needs were too much, your emotions inconvenient, your longing burdensome.

So now, in adulthood, when you meet someone who’s emotionally unavailable, it might feel oddly magnetic. There’s something there that your body remembers.

Not because it feels good.
Because it feels known.

The Urge to Rewrite the Story

There’s a quiet (but powerful) hope behind why we pursue unavailable people.

It goes something like this:

“If I can just get this person to love me, maybe I’ll finally feel worthy.”

“Maybe if I’m good enough, patient enough, not too much, not too needy — this time it’ll be different.”

It’s less about the person in front of you, and more about the person from your past.
The one you never stopped trying to reach.

On some level, it feels like an opportunity to rewrite the story — to finally get the love you didn’t get back then. To prove that you are lovable enough to conquer someone’s distance.

But what you're really doing is continuing to carry the burden of proving your worth.

The Cost of Trying to Earn Love

When we chase emotionally unavailable people, we often abandon ourselves in the process.

We over-function. We shrink our needs. We walk on eggshells and call it grace.
We start to believe that if we’re hurting, it must be us. We must be too sensitive, too demanding, too hard to love.

And that narrative — the one where we are the problem — keeps the cycle going.

The longer we chase someone who cannot give us what we need, the more we reinforce the belief that we’re only worthy when we’re chosen.

But love that has to be earned by self-abandonment isn’t love.
It’s a reenactment.

The Truth You Might Need to Hear

You don’t have to earn love by fixing someone, changing yourself, or rewriting old dynamics.

You were always worthy.
Even if love felt distant.

Real healing begins when you stop chasing love that mirrors your wounds and start choosing love that reflects your worth.

And that might feel boring or foreign at first.
Because your nervous system might not know what safety feels like yet.

But in time, the unfamiliar can become familiar.
And love that stays can become the new story.

You Can Choose Something New

The people you’re drawn to may reflect the past.
But they don’t have to dictate the future.

You’re allowed to stop performing, proving, or earning.

You’re allowed to want love that feels warm, available, and reciprocal.
Love that doesn’t make you question your worth.
Love that meets you in the middle — without you having to shrink to fit.

That love exists.
And you don’t have to suffer to deserve it.

If you're tired of trying to prove you're lovable, maybe it’s time to start believing you already are.

You were never too much — only ever trying to be enough.
And that’s not a flaw. It’s a wound. One that can heal.

And you don’t have to heal alone.