Ep.116 / The 5 Stages of Love Are Bullshit | PART ONE

After seeing a viral relationship Reel explain that lasting love supposedly progresses from chemistry and honeymoon-stage magic, through bickering and a “villain/victim era,” into healing and eventually a conscious relationship, Josh had one immediate reaction: relationships are way too complicated for a fucking Instagram flow chart.

The 5 Stages of Love Are Bullshit: What Healthy Relationships Actually Look Like

I recently saw an Instagram Reel explaining the supposed five stages of long-term love, and almost immediately I thought: Oh my God, I fucking hate this.

Not necessarily because everything in it was wrong. That would actually make it easier to dismiss. The annoying part was that several of the ideas sounded completely reasonable.

According to the Reel, long-term love begins with “The Magic”: chemistry, amazing sex, butterflies, and the certainty that you have finally found your person. Then comes bickering, followed by a “villain/victim era” where both partners decide the other person is the problem. If you survive that, you enter a period of self-reflection and healing before eventually arriving at a mature, conscious relationship where you stop fighting each other and start fighting for the relationship.

Very neat.

Very inspirational.

Very Instagram.

And potentially very misleading.

Because real relationships do not progress like a software update.

Are There Really Five Stages of Love?

There are absolutely common experiences that appear in many long-term relationships. New relationships can feel intoxicating. Familiarity changes attraction. Conflict eventually reveals differences. Intimate relationships can expose emotional triggers and patterns we did not realize we carried.

But saying these experiences sometimes happen is very different from saying healthy relationships should progress through them in order.

That distinction matters.

Once we turn observations into stages, people can begin interpreting pain as progress.

Instead of asking, “Is this relationship healthy for me?” someone may start thinking, “We’re simply in Stage Three. If I stay, heal enough, and do the work, eventually we’ll reach Stage Five.”

Sometimes two people absolutely can work through a difficult period and create something stronger.

Sometimes the relationship is simply showing you why it needs to end.

Leaving does not necessarily mean you failed the lesson.

Stage One: The Honeymoon Phase and “The Magic”

The first stage is probably the easiest to recognize.

You meet someone. The chemistry is intense. You cannot stop talking. Sex is incredible. Every new detail feels significant.

They love the same weird song you love and suddenly your brain is planning the wedding.

This part can be wonderful. Enjoy it.

But chemistry is not compatibility.

Chemistry can tell you that you are attracted to someone. It cannot tell you how they respond when you disagree, whether they respect boundaries, whether your values align, whether they take accountability, or whether you actually want the same life.

Sometimes we also confuse emotional intensity with attraction.

If you have experienced inconsistent relationships before, uncertainty can feel strangely exciting. Someone showers you with attention and then disappears. You become obsessed with getting the connection back.

That emotional roller coaster can be interpreted as passion.

Then someone emotionally consistent comes along and suddenly calm feels suspicious.

Maybe there is no chemistry.

Or maybe your nervous system simply isn’t being forced to perform Olympic gymnastics anymore.

Instead of thinking of this as “The Magic,” I prefer Discovery.

You are discovering who this person actually is—and who you become around them.

Stage Two: Relationship Conflict Is Normal. Feeling Chronically Unsafe Isn’t.

Eventually, another human being will annoy you.

This is unavoidable.

You have different habits, families, histories, preferences, communication styles, relationships with money, sex drives, expectations, and probably very different philosophies regarding where wet towels belong.

Conflict itself does not tell us very much.

How you handle conflict does.

Can you tell someone, “That hurt me,” without immediately having to prove why you were entitled to feel hurt?

Can your partner disagree with your interpretation while still making room for your emotional experience?

Can someone apologize without immediately saying, “But you also…”?

Can both people remain recognizable to each other during disagreement?

This distinction became especially clear to me when comparing my marriage with my current relationship.

In my marriage, I often experienced conversations about my feelings as a series of questions. Maybe the intention was genuinely understanding, but to me it frequently felt like interrogation.

I would express a feeling, and eventually I felt like I was defending whether that feeling was reasonable.

That is exhausting.

With Kai, I have experienced something different. He has made it clear that I can bring him anxiety, concerns, triggers, or weird thoughts without first polishing them into a flawless legal argument.

He does not have to agree with everything I feel.

He simply allows it to exist.

That has taught me that the important stage isn’t “bickering.”

It is repair.

Stage Three: Sometimes Your Partner Actually Is the Problem

The original framework calls this the “villain/victim era.”

And yes, couples can absolutely get trapped in blame.

We explain our own mistakes through context while interpreting our partner’s mistakes as character defects.

I snapped because I was stressed.

They snapped because they’re an asshole.

Human beings are extremely talented at making ourselves the sympathetic protagonist.

But there is a problem with automatically treating blame as something both partners need to outgrow.

Sometimes another person’s behavior actually is a problem.

Sometimes your anxiety comes from childhood wounds.

Sometimes you are anxious because your partner is inconsistent.

Sometimes you need to communicate better.

Sometimes you have communicated the same boundary twelve times.

Sometimes you are projecting.

Sometimes you are accurately perceiving that you are being treated badly.

Relationship content can become dangerous when every problem gets transformed into an opportunity to “look inward.”

You do not need to heal until disrespect stops bothering you.

Staying Is Not Automatically More Mature Than Leaving

We romanticize “fighting for the relationship.”

Sometimes that is beautiful.

Two people may go through a difficult period, seek therapy, learn how to communicate differently, rebuild trust, and create something stronger.

But longevity itself does not prove that a relationship is healthy.

Staying is not inherently brave.

Leaving is not inherently selfish.

Sometimes ending a relationship means admitting that two people can love each other and still not be capable of building a healthy life together.

My marriage ending taught me that I can acknowledge complexity without talking myself out of my own experience.

I do not need to make my ex-husband a villain to say that aspects of the relationship were traumatic for me.

Those things can coexist.

We have a cultural tendency to believe that if we understand someone’s intention, the impact should disappear.

It doesn’t.

Stage Four: Relationships Really Can Be Mirrors

This is where the original framework gets something important right.

Relationships can reveal your shit.

Fear of abandonment. People-pleasing. Emotional avoidance. Defensiveness. Difficulty trusting. Trouble expressing needs.

Another person gets close enough that patterns you could previously ignore suddenly become impossible to miss.

That can create enormous growth.

But healing does not always mean becoming better at staying.

Sometimes healing means understanding why you kept trying so hard to make an unhealthy dynamic work.

And sometimes healing becomes particularly confusing when you finally enter a relationship that feels safer.

Your brain does not automatically erase what previous relationships taught it.

You may still brace for criticism.

You may still prepare to defend yourself.

You may still assume that expressing a preference will become a debate.

Then someone reacts differently.

And slowly you collect new evidence.

Not Every Man Is Every Man

Being with Kai has taught me something extraordinarily simple that I apparently needed to experience before I fully understood it:

Not every man is every man.

If one person repeatedly questioned your preferences, you can begin expecting everyone to question them.

If vulnerability caused conflict before, you start treating vulnerability as dangerous.

If being yourself resulted in criticism, you begin editing yourself before anyone asks you to.

I had to learn how to stop doing that.

Kai does not judge my clothes, music, humor, or the things I enjoy. He does not need to personally love everything I love in order to respect that I love it.

He does not particularly love horror movies.

I do.

And sometimes he watches them because he loves me.

It sounds tiny.

It is not.

Being loved does not require becoming identical.

A Healthy Relationship Should Leave Room for You

One of the most useful questions my relationships have taught me to ask is:

Am I becoming more myself here, or less?

Not: “Am I happy every second?”

No relationship provides permanent happiness.

Not: “Does this person challenge me?”

Healthy relationships can absolutely challenge us.

Instead ask whether you are becoming increasingly honest.

Can you express preferences without preparing a defense?

Can you communicate concerns?

Can you have an emotional reaction without being made to feel ridiculous?

Can you disagree and remain two separate people?

Over time, are you expanding—or editing yourself to keep everything peaceful?

Those questions tell me far more than knowing which “relationship stage” somebody supposedly occupies.

There Is No Final Stage of Healthy Love

The fifth stage in the Reel is the “conscious relationship.”

You have healed. Your partner has healed. You stop fighting each other. Communication improves. Love deepens. Sex gets better.

Fantastic.

Where do we register?

The problem is that relationships never stop changing because people never stop changing.

You can feel incredibly secure for years and then experience grief, illness, career changes, financial problems, family stress, parenthood, aging, or some completely unexpected event that introduces a new challenge.

That does not mean you have regressed.

It means you are alive.

Healthy relationships are not relationships that eventually stop requiring attention.

They are relationships where both people remain capable of paying attention.

Stop Asking What Stage You’re In

I do not want to replace the five stages of love with my own six stages.

That would be the exact same bullshit with different branding.

I would rather replace stages with questions:

Can I be myself in this relationship?

Can I tell the truth?

Can we disagree without becoming enemies?

When something hurts, can we repair it?

Do apologies become changed behavior?

Can both people maintain their individuality?

Do I feel increasingly safe being known?

Am I becoming more myself—or less?

Those answers can change throughout a relationship.

And sometimes the answer may tell you to stay, communicate, heal, and keep building.

Sometimes it may tell you that something needs professional support.

Sometimes it may tell you to leave.

No Instagram carousel can determine that for you.

What Do Healthy Relationships Actually Look Like?

That is almost a trick question.

There is no single template.

My relationship with Kai is not the template. My marriage is not a warning label. Your relationship does not have to resemble mine to be healthy.

Maybe the most useful thing we can stop asking is whether our relationship looks “normal.”

Plenty of unhealthy things are normal.

Instead, ask what the relationship consistently shows you.

Love can be passionate and safe.

Conflict can exist without cruelty.

Two people can disagree without one person disappearing.

You can heal while staying.

You can heal by leaving.

And sometimes one of the clearest signs that you have changed is discovering that love no longer requires you to constantly defend who you are.

Maybe lasting love has nothing to do with completing five predetermined stages.

Maybe it is simply two people continuing to choose curiosity, accountability, repair, honesty, individuality, and care for as long as those things remain possible together.

And sometimes conscious love means growing together.

Sometimes it means realizing you need to grow apart.

Either way, real love is not a checklist.