I don’t recognise myself when I’m in a relationship
I don’t recognise myself when I’m in a relationship
Have you ever had a moment when you stop and think, who is this version of me? The one constantly checking your own tone, replaying your words and making sure you’re keeping the relationship afloat? The one who used to feel solid, grounded and self-assured suddenly feels… wobbly. You look in the mirror (or even just inside your own head) and you don’t recognise yourself.
If you’ve ever told your friends “I don’t recognise myself in relationships”, or you’ve worried that you’re losing yourself in a relationship, you are far from alone. Many women feel perfectly confident, capable, and decisive in their work, friendships, or alone time… But the second they’re emotionally close to a partner, something shifts. You might notice:
You’re second-guessing everything you say or do.
You’re constantly monitoring their moods, reactions or satisfaction.
You’re minimising parts of yourself you normally take for granted.
This isn’t any kind of proof that you ‘can’t do relationships’, and it sure as hell doesn’t make you the ‘common denominator’ if you find it happening over and over again. It’s a sign that being in a relationship is activating something old: patterns that your attachment system learned long before you ever met this person (and the one before that, and that...).
Why closeness can feel destabilising
Being close to someone can feel like your ground suddenly shifts.
You know yourself when you’re alone: what you like, what you’ll tolerate, how you show up… But as soon as romance switches on, suddenly you’re scanning every word, every glance, every text. You start editing yourself without realising it. You minimise yourself in ways you thought you’d left behind.
It’s confusing.
You don’t recognise this version of you. You can feel your confidence wobble, your anger get muted, or your desire tucked away. And the more you try to be ‘good’ in a relationship, the quieter you get. You catch yourself thinking you must be overreacting, or that you’re somehow the problem. That’s not insight. It’s training. It’s what happens when your history and your attachment system team up to keep connection with a partner going at your own expense.
Notice it. Name it. See what parts of you have been carrying the load all these years. Finally let them exist in the relationship without hiding. You can be angry, bored, restless, longing, wanting space, wanting closeness, or wanting more than the relationship currently gives you. You can feel all of it at once. That is the raw material of real intimacy and real presence.
How this shows up in relationships
Even small moments can trigger it.
A simple disagreement might send you straight into over-explaining, apologising too quickly, or silently retracting.
A casual comment they make can make you question your place in the relationship.
And yet, what makes things even more confusing is that outside of the relationship you might feel grounded, capable, and completely yourself.
This isn’t a ‘you’ problem, it’s just how attachment gets switched on. Those subtle patterns you learned to survive quietly in your history (like people—pleasing, monitoring your words, shrinking your physical presence, or smoothing over conflict quickly) suddenly feel essential. Automatic. Necessary.
And then you realise you’ve lost sight of yourself somewhere along the way.
What noticing this can do
Pay attention. Discomfort is information.
It tells you which parts of yourself have been carrying the emotional load, which parts have been silenced, and which parts are demanding to be present.
It’s messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes infuriating. But it’s also where change begins. Not by fixing yourself, but by staying present with all of you inside the relationship.
If any of this resonates, you might want to check out Feeling disconnected in a loving relationship, which explores how these patterns show up across time and moments.
You didn’t just ‘lose yourself’
You didn’t wake up one morning and misplace your personality.
Something in you learned that connection required adaptation: maybe desire had to be moderated in a relationship. Perhaps anger was risky in another one. Or possibly, being chosen once mattered more than choosing.
That learning didn’t happen in isolation. And it isn’t undone by insight alone.
If you keep finding that you disappear in relationships or dating, it isn’t because you lack self-awareness. It’s because something deeper takes over when attachment is on the line.
Therapy isn’t about teaching you how to perform differently in relationships. It’s about understanding the part of you that steps aside, and why.
And slowly, steadily, helping you stay.

