Push/Pull Energy in Relationships — Why We Chase, Why We Retreat, and What It Really Says About Us

Have you ever liked someone so much that you found yourself doing everything right — texting them good morning, showing up for them, being emotionally available, maybe even offering them your last piece of chocolate (which, let’s be honest, is a big deal)? And then suddenly… they pulled away. Not dramatically. But their replies started getting shorter, their voice note enthusiasm dropped from 1.5x to “seen,” and you, the once-glowing sun of the interaction, suddenly became a tiny flickering bulb in their periphery.

Let’s talk about that. The push/pull energy.

I used to think it was just a game. A weird mind-game people played when they were emotionally immature or avoidant or just plain manipulative. But the more I observed (others and myself), the more I realized — it’s a pattern. A deeply human one. And it’s not just about dating. This dynamic shows up in friendships, workplace admiration, family relationships — anywhere we want to feel wanted.

Psychologically, we are wired to chase what feels almost in reach.

This is tied to something called intermittent reinforcement — a behavioural principle where inconsistent rewards (like affection, attention, validation) create the strongest forms of attachment. Casinos use this. Instagram uses this. And, unknowingly, we use this with each other. When someone pulls away right after giving us a taste of closeness, our brain panics — it says, “Wait, come back. I need to understand why.” That desire to restore what we briefly had feels like love. But really, it’s confusion dressed in longing.

And when we sense someone’s pulling, what do we instinctively do? We push.

Harder.

We call. We text. We double down on vulnerability. And somewhere in that frantic attempt to re-establish closeness, we lose our centre. Because here’s the thing — you cannot force intimacy with someone who survives on distance.

Let me give you an example.

I once told someone I liked that I missed their good morning texts — just casually, almost jokingly. And guess what? They stopped sending them altogether. At first, I felt rejected. And then I felt humiliated — like I had asked for too much, been too much, felt too deeply.

But here’s what I now understand: when someone pulls away, and we push forward, we unconsciously recreate a power imbalance. The more you chase, the more the other person runs. Not always because they don’t care — sometimes it’s because they’re overwhelmed, or they confuse intensity with threat. Sometimes they want the idea of love, but not the work of it. Sometimes, they’re just not emotionally available — and your push forces them to feel exposed.

The dance begins.

They give you warmth → you lean in → they get scared and retreat → you panic and over-give → they pull further → and suddenly, you’re alone in the connection, performing intimacy with someone who's already left the stage.

But here’s the brutal truth:If someone needs your absence to recognize your value, they were never really present to begin with.

The most dangerous thing about push/pull energy is how seductive it feels. It mimics the highs and lows of passion. It gives us adrenaline disguised as connection. And for those of us who grew up equating love with effort — this kind of dynamic feels familiar. It feels like home.

But it’s not love. It’s emotional limbo.

So, what do you do?

You notice it.

You notice the tiny pang in your chest when they take four hours to reply to something you sent with all your heart. You notice how often you initiate, how often you're the one holding the thread together. You notice your own impulse to chase — and you pause. You let the silence hang. You let them show up, or not.

Because true intimacy isn’t a performance.It’s a mirror.And if you’re always pushing, you’ll never know if they were ever willing to meet you halfway.

Push/pull dynamics feel addictive because they give us hope — that maybe if we do a little more, wait a little longer, love a little harder, the other person will finally meet us in the middle. But the hard truth is: if someone wants to be there, they will be. You won’t have to become smaller, quieter, softer to keep them.

Let them pull away.Let yourself stop chasing.Let what’s meant for you come with steadiness, not suspense.

Because love — real love — doesn’t need to be earned with anxiety.

It arrives. It stays. It shows up — again and again — not because you pushed……

but because they chose to pull you closer, too.