Have you ever experienced that overwhelming feeling when you’re deeply infatuated with someone? The excitement of their presence, the thrill of late-night conversations, and the impulsive meetups that give you butterflies in your stomach. It’s a time when you would do anything just to feel their touch again. Recently, I reconnected with an old family friend after a long hiatus of 14 years. To our surprise, we found ourselves spending most of our waking hours texting and talking on the phone. When I finally visited him, the chemistry between us was off the charts. Within weeks, we were even discussing marriage. People around us commented on how happy I seemed, and it was true. But deep down, I knew that this intense feeling of being crazy-in-love was simply a result of chemical reactions in my brain.
Dopamine is the hormone responsible for reward and motivation. It makes us feel good, which in turn motivates us to crave more of it. That’s why falling in love is accompanied by constant thoughts about the person. Even thinking about the reward releases dopamine in our brains. Each interaction, and the anticipation leading up to it, becomes part of our addictive cycle. When our planned meeting got canceled, we rescheduled and eagerly counted down the days until we could be together again. More calls, more messages, more plans for the future. He would send me songs for our first wedding dance, be the first to react to my social media posts, send me flowers and anxiously check if they had arrived, and even buy my favorite shampoo for my next visit. When he texted me that he was falling in love, he assured me that I didn’t have to say it back. But just five minutes later, he messaged again, demanding that I reciprocate. That’s when my intuition kicked in.
Although we were both under the influence of that intoxicating dopamine cocktail, he seemed to be addicted, while I still had some control over myself. His increasing neediness made it feel like he was dependent on me. Despite my desire to see him again, doubts began to creep in. I started questioning whether we were truly compatible since we had conflicting views on family, money, and because he was a lifelong smoker. That’s when I remembered an article I had read about how the brain behaves during love and suggested that the quickest way to get over someone was to go “cold turkey” for a month. No calls, no texts, no stalking on social media—nothing that would trigger the release of dopamine and lure us back into the cycle of seeking rewards. I didn’t want to end the relationship, but I believed it was necessary to reset from the abnormal infatuation and give ourselves space to reflect on whether we were truly a good match. So I proposed a 30-day break and said, “If we want a future together, this is the best way to approach it.” He reluctantly agreed.
During the first few days, he still reached out to me, sent emails, liked my social media posts, and even viewed my profiles multiple times. He also messaged to inform me that he would be traveling close to my location and asked if he could come and visit (despite the four-hour drive). I’ll admit, I was tempted. In the beginning, my hormones raged and the chemistry between us was still burning strong. I thought, What harm would it do? I can just start the 30 days over afterward. Life is too short for willpower, right? But I resisted. As the month went on, he started posting cryptic messages on his social media—lyrics that represented his thoughts and feelings, photos of places we had been together, along with the hashtag #missingyou. Meanwhile, I kept myself busy with work and life, avoiding contact even when I made summer plans and needed to know his availability.
This 30-day break reminded me of the challenges I faced when giving up sugar for Lent. At first, it was painfully dull and lacked any pleasure. I couldn’t think of anything else. But as the month progressed, and I finally had the freedom to eat cake or chocolate, the desire had subsided. When the much-anticipated Day of First Contact arrived, he messaged me as soon as he woke up, exactly as I had expected. He had never truly broken the cycle. I went about my morning routine before replying because I had work to focus on. When we finally spoke that afternoon, I didn’t feel particularly good or bad—just neutral. He expressed how much he had missed me and wanted to know if I had missed him too. “I was looking forward to speaking with you,” I said. And I genuinely had been. But I hadn’t been longing for him.
After the break, we made plans to see each other, but our communication became less frequent. He stopped posting cryptic messages and constantly bombarding me with messages. By the time I suggested that we break up, both of us saw it coming and ended it amicably with minimal regrets. Removing the influence of dopamine made the breakup relatively painless. Perhaps going “cold turkey” isn’t the most romantic way to handle things, but I find it reassuring. If going from discussing marriage to saying goodbye without shedding a tear means it was never real in the first place, then it’s clear that my brain was tricking me. Now, when the temptation to reach out to my ex arises, I remind myself that contacting him would disrupt his “cold turkey” period and potentially reignite that longing fueled by dopamine. So I refrain from texting him. If there’s something important I need to tell him, I’ll wait a month.
Do you have an intriguing personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re seeking and send us your pitch here: [insert HTML link]
Denial of responsibility! VigourTimes is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
