Most people in limerence can recall the exact moment it hit. A smile across the room. A laugh that lingered too long. A text that shouldn’t have felt like anything but somehow felt like everything.
That’s Stage One.
We like to believe affairs are plotted, deliberate things. But limerence doesn’t ask for planning. It sneaks in through the cracks. Through mild discontent. A low-grade loneliness. A sense that something—anything—needs to change. Then someone new offers attention, and the world tilts. Not because that person is extraordinary. But because the feeling is.
David wasn’t looking for anything. He was just grabbing coffee at the office kitchen when Sarah from marketing smiled at him. He later told his therapist he felt “lit up” inside. Nothing happened—but that moment stuck. That night, he replayed their three-minute conversation like it meant something. That’s how it began.
It’s not love. Not yet. But it’s the beginning of something dangerous.
Stage 2: From Person to “Love Object”
In Stage Two, the affair partner becomes more than a person. They become a projection. A mirror reflecting back the best parts of the self the betrayer has forgotten—desirable, exciting, important. Their flaws get blurred. Their past erased. Their presence becomes emotional morphine.
Rachel started texting a colleague she barely knew. At first, it was just friendly. But soon, she found herself looking forward to his replies more than coming home to her husband. She ignored the fact that he was flaky and unreliable—telling herself, “He’s just misunderstood.” Her husband became invisible. Her coworker became a romantic escape.
The betrayed spouse, meanwhile, starts to fade into the background. It’s not that they’ve done anything wrong. They’ve simply become real. And in limerence, reality can’t compete with fantasy.
This is where many people still believe they’re in control. They’re not. The slide has already begun.
Stage 3: The High of Being Wanted Back
Reciprocation is gasoline on the fire.
Now the affair partner returns the attention—and it’s euphoric. Dopamine spikes. The brain floods with pleasure chemicals. Everything becomes a sign: the way they look at each other, the way they text, the way they laugh. It feels cosmic. Fated. Like something too perfect to question.
Mark felt alive again. When his affair partner told him, “I think about you all the time,” it was like flipping a switch. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop checking his phone. His heart raced just seeing her name light up his screen. He wasn’t in love with her—he was in love with the way she made him feel.
They aren’t addicted to the person. They’re addicted to the feeling. The escape. The aliveness.
The spouse at home? They're left wondering why everything changed so fast. The truth is, it didn’t. It was changing quietly, invisibly—one chemical reaction at a time.
Stage 4: Obstacles Increase Obsession
Here’s where limerence shows its teeth.
If secrecy makes the relationship harder? It also makes it hotter. If being together means breaking rules? It must mean the love is worth breaking them for. The greater the risk, the greater the reward—or so the brain believes.
The harder it gets, the more convinced they become that this must be real love. Why else would it feel so intense?
Nina’s affair partner was married too. Every time he almost pulled away, she found a new reason to reel him back in. “We just need time,” she’d say. The secrecy, the planning, the risk—it made the relationship feel thrilling, not toxic. She started telling herself, “If love is this hard, it must be real.”
Red flags get rewritten as plot twists. Pain becomes proof of passion. The whole relationship starts to look like a love story rather than what it really is: a psychological event dressed in romance.
Stage 5: Consumed
By now, the betrayer’s thoughts are almost entirely focused on the affair partner. Every hour brings analysis. Every interaction is dissected. Every unanswered text feels like emotional collapse.
It’s not just desire—it’s dependency. If the affair partner pulls away, panic sets in. If they lean in, the high returns. This is the chemical loop: hope, reward, uncertainty, obsession.
People in this stage often change. How they dress. How they talk. How they move through the world. It’s like they’re trying to become someone else entirely—someone worthy of the fantasy.
Meanwhile, their spouse is often left feeling like they’ve been replaced by a ghost. And in a way, they have.
Paul found himself scrolling through old messages, analyzing emojis, rereading every word for clues. He kept telling himself she might come back. His wife asked him to re-engage in therapy, but he barely heard her—his mind was stuck in replay mode, looping a highlight reel of a woman who no longer returned his calls.
Stage 6: The Comedown
Eventually, limerence always fades.
After months of secrecy, Claire left her husband and moved in with her affair partner. At first, everything felt perfect. But within weeks, she started noticing the things she once romanticized—his jealousy, his unpredictability—were now sources of tension. The highs flattened. The doubts returned. But now she’d burned the bridge back home.
The thrill becomes routine. The affair partner becomes human again. The intensity begins to drain from the relationship—not because the feelings weren’t real, but because they were never designed to last. The brain can’t sustain a chemical high forever.
And that’s when the reckoning begins.
Sometimes, people wake up and return home—full of regret, clarity, and shame. Sometimes, they cling tighter, hoping to reignite a spark that wasn’t meant to survive daylight. Either way, the illusion starts to collapse.
What felt like “meant to be” starts to feel messy. Heavy. Real.
Why This Matters
Limerence isn’t about love. It’s about longing. It’s about the brain seeking something to fill the void. A person caught in limerence doesn’t need a soulmate. They need a mirror—to see where the ache started, and why they tried to numb it with fantasy.
Understanding the stages doesn’t excuse the betrayal. But it does decode it. And when you can name what’s happening, you can finally decide what to do with it.
Because limerence is powerful.
But truth—when chosen—can be stronger.
Limerence can feel overwhelming, like it’s taken over your heart, your mind, and your choices. But it doesn’t last forever. It isn’t real love—it’s a powerful emotional illusion that thrives on obstacles, challenges and adversity. The good news is, once you understand it for what it is, you can begin to step out of the fog. You can stop confusing intensity with intimacy. And whether you’re the one who had the affair or the one picking up the pieces, healing is possible. But it starts with truth. It starts with understanding. And it starts with choosing to stop the cycle—and write a new story.
If you’re ready to break free from the pain of betrayal and rebuild your relationship with honesty, connection, and hope, our Healing Broken Trust Couples Workshop is designed for you. We walk couples through the exact process needed to recover from infidelity. You’ll learn how to rebuild trust, restore emotional safety, and reconnect at a deeper level. Don’t keep living in confusion or chaos. Come join us at healingbrokentrust.com/hbtworkshop and begin your journey toward lasting repair. You don’t have to heal alone. We’ll guide you—step by step.
