She said she was thrilled I had found Greg and then asked, “Do you get butterflies and everything around him? Instead of a feeling that this person is going to flit unpredictably in and out of my life, I have a (perhaps naive) belief that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” I had to think about that one, so I sipped my wine and wondered about the term butterflies. “Don’t get me wrong, I think about him all the time and the attraction is undeniable, but as for the butterflies I used to think meant I was infatuated with someone – nope, I don’t get them.” One of the things I’ve found is different with Greg as I’ve spent more and more time with him over the past 12 weeks (isn’t it slightly ridiculous the way I automatically age our relationship in my head in terms of weeks, the way I did with my babies? I love to spend time with him but I don’t feel like he’ll disappear on me if we spend a child-free day apart.
When I found myself rummaging through his garbage for condom wrappers as proof of the sex he was having with other women, and even angling a steak knife at his throat due to some now-forgotten slight, I knew I'd fully entered crazy-bitch territory. Eventually, for reasons more complicated than dating drama, I started seeing a therapist, who proselytized against woozy love feelings, saying that butterflies was just another word for fear — fear of losing the guy.
You may feel self-conscious with this person, or even panic when things go wrong.
This is not how one should feel in a secure, loving, and supportive relationship.
(For more on some of the lessons I've learned, check out the two-part series 30 Lessons I Learned From Love.) And, after a year of this love, I can honestly say that the excitement of the beginning, the thrill of those early days with him, is still there. Like any great love, there have been some challenges over the past year, but none of the difficulties we've faced have challenged the way we feel for each other.
I still feel a jolt of happiness when I look at him.