Situationships: We Are Tired Of Them

We Are Tired Of Situationships

Situationships. Let's be honest: situationships are the emotional equivalent of running on a treadmill. You're doing A LOT of work, but you're not actually going anywhere. I’ve been there, investing time, energy, emotions, only to realize I was

stuck in place, but also hoping motion meant progress.

To me, a situationship is a relationship without a label, a direction, or a clear

understanding of what either person is doing. You talk every day. You act like a

couple. You emotionally rely on each other. But no one wants to define anything.

It’s all vibes, zero structure.

But somehow situationships are now…normal?

People love to say it’s because we’re “chill now,” or “i don't want to have a label,”

or “just seeing where things go.” But in reality, situationships are often about fear. Fear of commitment. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of asking for more and being told no.

So instead of choosing clarity, in a relationship, I chose comfort, in a situationship, even when that comfort quietly hurt.

New Fear Unlocked...Committed Relationships

For a long time, I thought I didn't want a serious relationship. But the truth? I wanted connection, I just didn't want the emotional risk that came with it.

Some of my common "reasons":

Fear of rejection or abandonment.

If you never define it, you can pretend it doesn't really matter if it ends. (Spoiler: it will still hurt.)

Fear of being perceived as "too much"

Wanting clarity gets framed as needy, dramatic, or intense. So people shrink their needs to appear low-maintenance.

Wanting connection more than clarity.

Loneliness makes people accept uncertainty just so they don't feel alone. But avoiding clarity doesn't protect your feelings; it just confuses them.

The Cost of Undefined Relationships

Situationships don’t usually start off painful. They start off exciting. There’s mystery, anticipation, late-night talks, “what are we?” energy. It feels romantic.

Until it doesn't.

Over time, that lack of definition leads to:

• Emotional confusion

• Constant OVERTHINKING

• Anxiety about where you stand

• Lack of emotional safety

• Feeling stuck

• Delayed healing

I was always guessing. Always analyzing. Always reading between the lines. I'd replay conversations in my head, reread texts, and try to decode tone shifts like they were hidden messages.

And that's NOT romantic. Girl, that's mentally exhausting.

When "Going With The Flow" Turns into Self-Abandonment

I grew up thinking being chill was attractive. That asking for less made me easier to love. That caring too much was embarrasing.

So I said things like:

"I'm fine with whatever"

"It's not that serious"

"I don't need a label."

But the truth? Sometimes I DID care. I just didn't feel safe admitting it.

I told myself I was being flexible, but I was actually silencing my needs to keep someone around. And that's not flexibility, that's self-abandonment.

Over time, it taught me that my feelings were inconvenient.

And they're not!

Who's Really Doing the Work?

Let’s talk about emotional labor.

Emotional labor is the invisible work of managing feelings, your own and someone else’s, to keep things emotionally smooth.

In my situationships, it was never equal.

I was the one overanalyzing texts. Starting difficult conversations.

Offering reassurance. Holding back my feelings and keeping the peace.

The other person gets to exist comfortably in ambiguity.

This drained me.

The Power Problem No One Talks About

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: in situationships, the person who cares less usually has more power.

They decide how close you get.

They decide how serious it is.

They decide what’s “too much.”

And I adjusted.

That kind of dynamic slowly eroded my self-worth. I started to feel like love was something I had to earn instead of something that should be mutual.

Wrapping it Up

Overall, love shouldn’t make you feel small.

Clarity isn’t scary; it's a form of care.

Boundaries aren’t walls; they’re protection.

And you don’t need to earn emotional security.

If someone makes you feel like asking for clarity is “too much,” they might not be offering enough.

So ask yourself:

Are you choosing comfort…or are you choosing yourself?

By: Charlotte Safir