I’ve seen the saying “love is a disease to women with ambitions” floating around social media for a while, and I stand by it wholeheartedly. Recently, I’ve noticed from my own experience, stories on social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram and from those around me that more and more women are beginning to feel that romantic relationships have restricted their personal growth. Evidently, there is a pattern of searching for love and, once finding it, feeling trapped.

It seems like relationships have turned into cages rather than a space for growth. So I asked myself, why does this happen?

I have one leading theory. The mechanics of romantic relationships have changed tremendously from when we grew up to now. Looking at romance movies and the overall culture back then, women were typically pursued with flowers and grand gestures, which seems far from reality now. A particular plague of modern times is the dreaded “situationship.”

Many of us have fallen victim to the conditioning around a situationship, an ill-defined connection by nature, marketed by men as something that will eventually turn into a relationship. But the reality of this entanglement is that it’s more like a “humiliationship” and is nothing like love. Women are expected to provide all the benefits of a relationship through their effort, loyalty and intimacy without the security of receiving commitment, reassurance or clarity in return because these dynamics are built in favor of men, by men.

I fell in love at 17, spent 18 trying to be Bob the Builder and fix something I hadn’t broken and entered 19 healing. Later, I found myself in this gray area of a situationship — again. I asked anyone who would listen for advice. I treated this advice like data, convinced that one piece of evidence would finally alter my mindset and shake me from the situation I was in. While I wasn’t fully convinced, I did learn three important lessons:

1. Someone who wants you will fight for you.

2. You teach people how to treat you.

3. Know your worth because if they do it once, they’ll do it again.

At first, I naively considered a situationship as a phase in getting to know someone. But after spending close to seven months in one, I realized it was nothing more than wasted time. I felt trapped into letting things slide because “we weren’t officially together.” But if something is ever going to become real, shouldn’t it start with basic respect? At the very least, clear communication and effort.

If someone truly wants to be with you, they make it happen — they plan, they communicate, they commit. The bar has been set so low that the bare minimum now feels like a luxury.

These “relationships” thrive on inconsistent texting, long breaks and periods of love bombing. That instability becomes addictive. You start clinging to the idea of what could be if they finally choose you. But while you wait for that moment to come, your own ambitions to achieve meaning slowly stall.

In retrospect, I should have spoken up and said, “This isn’t okay. I want something more. No, I deserve something more.” I didn’t — and that’s a lesson in itself. However, I want to be clear that while I wish I had said something, I acknowledge that I wasn’t to blame for the lack of affection I was shown. You shouldn’t have to ask to be loved.

While we’re overanalyzing texts and replaying conversations, the reality is much simpler. The person we care about is not choosing us. The moment you find yourself bending over backward to understand someone’s intentions, that’s when you know you’ve been infected with the disease of “love.”

I felt silly and I thought it was just me. But when I started seeing trends about being “weekend lovers,” I realized this wasn’t personal. Women publicly shared the intimacy, vulnerability and effort they poured into these low-commitment situationships, while receiving little to nothing in return. How could something so vulnerable lead to nothing serious?

But that is the trap. These connections were driven by lust, convenience and low effort, not intention. They were not relationships and yet, we stayed. We stayed because we believed in the potential. And in doing so, we gave away our time, energy and focus.

That is where we lost our power.

So what’s the remedy?

Out of everyone I asked for advice, from teachers and friends to parents and even social media, the one that stuck with me came from my close friend from high school. She told me to make a list of everything I could not do but should be able to. Could I cook? No. Change a tire? No. Sew a button? No. It sounded small and almost unrelated to love, but that was the point.

Somewhere along the way, I got so focused on being chosen by a man that I forgot to choose myself. I was pouring energy into becoming “the one” for someone else instead of becoming someone I could be proud of.

Missing out on amazing opportunities because of a boy who doesn’t like you isn’t worth it. Everyone says that, but I look back at 17 and 18, and now I’m about in the middle of 19 and think, “Wow, how much I could have changed?” Like, hello, I’m not old. I do not think love is the enemy and I am still learning what it should look like. But what I have learned is that revolving my world around someone unsure of me is not it. What I do know is that I do not want my ambition to be put on hold every time a man enters my life.

Maybe love is not the disease, but losing yourself in its pursuit definitely is. So for now, I am choosing action, trying new things and learning more about myself. To build a life that feels full on its own.

Gisselle Tapia is a sophomore majoring in psychology. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.