When the man I’d been dating for three months told me our relationship was mostly about lust, I wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, I was flattered: who doesn’t want to be told how hot they are by someone they’re sleeping with? We all deserve to feel desired; it’s part of what makes us human. But the other part of me was quietly crushed.
Sure, the sexual chemistry was strong. But to me, our burgeoning relationship was about so much more than that. The connection was intellectual and emotional, which was part of what made the sex so good. I felt wanted, yes, but also respected, safe, and understood. Or at least, I thought I did.
After that conversation, in which he also confessed to seeing us as a “short-term” thing, I realised that the version of myself this man saw was less rooted in reality than it was in his own imagination. He wanted the parts of me that matched up with the story he’d written in his head: about who I was and what I could offer him, which meant he didn’t really want me at all. It’s easy to fancy someone you’ve invented. In other words, he didn’t actually see me. And in today’s dating world, being seen is what we all want more than ever.
I was reminded of all this when I watched the new season of Nobody Wants This, the popular Netflix comedy series about a jaded thirtysomething podcaster who falls in love with a “hot rabbi” and the various logistical, emotional and spiritual complexities that follow. The last season ended with Joanne (played by Kristen Bell) and Noah (Adam Brody) reuniting after a near-miss breakup, and for the first few episodes, they seem stronger than ever.
Part of what makes the show so popular – and why I fell so hard for it – is the way Noah loves (and sees) Joanne. A moment from the first season stands out, mostly because it has been burned into my brain. After sharing a strange, semi-awkward moment in a sex shop, Noah says he wants this to “be something real”, clarifying that he’s looking for more than just a bit of fun. In a moment of vulnerability, Joanne attempts to reciprocate, listing off various insecurities (“my biggest fear is a bad facelift”) and admitting that she’s terrified of being hurt. Noah reassures her: “I want this,” he says. “I want all of this.”
To some, this might seem saccharine (“He’s so wet,” said one friend when I asked for her thoughts on Noah). But after three years of navigating the dating world’s murky waters and encountering an endless stream of emotionally unavailable men who get spooked by the first sign of a personality, I found it endearing. And I wanted it for myself more than ever.
Like Joanne, I’ve also sometimes worried about being “too much” for a partner; I’m capricious, hyper-sensitive and tend to catastrophize, according to my therapist (and exes offering unsolicited feedback). The thought of finding someone who embraces my chaos, rather than running from it, is like a fever dream. As Noah famously tells Joanne in a later episode: “You can self-sabotage all you want, but I think you should get over it, because Joanne, I’m on your side. I can handle you.”
“I’ve also worried about being “too much” for a partner... So the thought of finding someone who embraces my chaos, rather than running from it, is like a fever dream”
Again, I know this line rattled some people – “It would make me want to behave so badly,” said one belligerent friend – and, sure, the implication of a woman being ‘handled’ by a man could be perceived as condescending, or even sexist. But honestly, after all of the experiences I’ve had (one ex memorably said he was “the only person who could handle me”), I’d love it if someone said those words to me. “Feeling seen is at the core of emotional connection,” explains Jessica Baum, a psychotherapist and the author of Safe: An Attachment-Informed Guide to Building More Secure Relationships. “When we feel truly seen, our nervous system relaxes and tells us we’re safe enough to be ourselves. When someone can hold space for our emotions and really ‘get’ us, it regulates our body and builds secure attachment. That kind of attunement is what allows love to feel grounding and safe, instead of anxious.”
Of course, it’s impossible to get to that safe space with someone who sees your value as exclusively sexual. This comes up in season two of Nobody Wants This: Joanne’s sister, Morgan (Justine Lupe), gets rejected by a man Noah had tried to set her up with, and, after asking why he turned her down, the man replies: “You’re obviously hot,” he begins before calling her “severe” and pointing out that she didn’t ask him a single question on the night they met. “I want to be with, like, a real person,” he adds. Despite having a point about the no questions thing (something I’m sure most straight single women can relate to), the man’s words are cutting, implying that he’s attracted enough to sleep with her but not date her. We later see Morgan crying in the bathroom.
“Men will shower you with attention to make you think they’re emotionally invested but will retreat after they’ve slept with you a few times,” says Yasmin*, 31, who has experienced this pattern several times. “I recently dated a guy for two months who assured me that he ‘wasn’t a fuckboy’ and I didn’t have to worry about him. Then the texts started slowing down, until he eventually ghosted me,” she recalls. The last message he responded to was a late-night one suggesting they meet up after their respective parties.
“I recently went on a third date with a therapist who became really distant after we slept together,” recalls May*, 48. “Despite the deep conversations we had on the dates about our families, his communication became really sporadic. After I pointed this out, he said he didn’t want to see me again because it didn’t feel ‘fun’ anymore. The overwhelming message I got from that was that I was OK for ‘fun’ but nothing more.”
“True intimacy takes time, curiosity and co-regulation – the slower, embodied moments that let someone actually see us. But the pace and format of digital culture make that kind of connection harder to come by”
My own experiences have been similar: in addition to the lusty situationship, there was also the ex I started sleeping with occasionally, who told me, quite explicitly, that he didn’t want anything more from me than sex. For a while, I convinced myself that I didn’t either and pledged to go full Samantha Jones, though this feeling dissipated after I realised how empty the lack of emotional intimacy was making me feel. Then there was the guy I briefly dated who later somehow became a friend with benefits. He made it abundantly clear that he didn’t see me as a serious prospect, and thanks to low self-worth and a high capacity for delusion, I told him that was fine by me.
None of these men saw or valued me in the way I wanted or deserved. The sad thing is that I tolerated, and occasionally encouraged, it. “Modern dating tends to amplify this pattern,” says Jessica. “So much of it happens through screens and curated images, so we end up relating through projections. True intimacy takes time, curiosity and co-regulation – the slower, embodied moments that let someone actually see us. But the pace and format of digital culture make that kind of connection harder to come by.” In the end, while it can be fulfilling in the short term to lean into someone’s projection of you, sexual or otherwise, it will ultimately only leave us feeling invisible. “It can also feel incredibly hollow to just go through the physical actions and not have that deeper connection built,” adds Baum. “The irony is that as adults, we often repeat that pattern – performing or perfecting ourselves to earn attention, only to feel unseen all over again. It’s an ache that lives in both the body and the heart.”
I vowed to break this pattern a while ago. Because as fun as it might be to perform a role that someone else has created for you, whether that’s the unfeeling seductress or the low-maintenance cool girl, it’s unsustainable and will only ever stop you from finding someone who sees and appreciates you for who you truly are. The Noah Effect is real; here’s hoping all of us find it.
*Names have been changed
