Why am I hooked on inconsistency?

Some people call it chemistry. Others call it fate. But if you've ever found yourself irresistibly drawn to someone who treats you inconsistently – giving you just enough to keep you holding on, but never enough to feel secure – then what you're experiencing might not be love, but addiction.

Toxic relationships can function like emotional slot machines. You never know when the next hit of attention, affection, or validation will come. Sometimes it’s a flood of intimacy: texts, compliments, promises. Other times, it's silence, withdrawal, or coldness. The unpredictability is the hook.

This dynamic – known in psychology as intermittent reinforcement – is one of the most powerful behavioural conditioning patterns there is. It’s the same mechanism that keeps people pulling levers in casinos long after they’ve lost money. Every so often, you get a win. And that win floods the brain with dopamine, the feel-good neurotransmitter associated with reward and motivation.

It’s not just the reward itself that drives addiction – it’s the anticipation of reward. The hope that maybe this time, things will be different. Maybe this time they’ll finally choose you, show up, stay. That cycle of anticipation and crash creates a chemical rollercoaster that can feel eerily like passion, intensity, even love.

For neurodivergent individuals, especially those with ADHD or sensory processing differences, this chemical intensity can be particularly compelling. When your baseline dopamine levels are lower or less stable (as is often the case in ADHD), the rush of unpredictable affection can feel both overwhelming and deeply soothing – like finally being “seen” or “activated.”

For many neurodivergent people, especially those with AUDHD (a combination of ADHD and autism), these kinds of inconsistent, emotionally intense connections don’t just feel exciting; they feel regulating. As writer Lindsey Mackereth beautifully explores in her article “What All Those Crushes Meant: Growing Up With AUDHD,” these relationships can act as both a stimulant and a stabiliser. The unpredictable highs provide dopamine – offering stimulation in an otherwise under-stimulating world – while the person themselves becomes a kind of emotional anchor, a focal point to fix on, providing structure and meaning. It can feel like you’ve found both a purpose and a pulse. But while this pattern can feel regulating in the short term, over time it often deepens dysregulation – reinforcing dependency, anxiety, and emotional burnout. What starts as a lifeline can become a leash.

We’ve seen these dynamics play out in real time on shows like Love Island, where contestants like Harrison and Harry have strung multiple people along by offering slivers of connection – a flirt here, a promise there – without ever offering true emotional availability. And yet, their female counterparts often remain drawn in, even when they know they’re being breadcrumbed.

Why?

Because the hope of being chosen becomes more powerful than the pain of being dismissed.

These dynamics aren’t just about bad luck in love or poor choices. Often, they are replays of old relational wounds. If you grew up in an environment where love was inconsistent – where your caregivers didn’t affirm your worth, couldn’t attune to your emotions, or only showed warmth when you achieved something – you may have learned that love is something to chase, prove, or earn. You may find yourself returning to partners who mirror the very dynamics that once hurt you, not because you want more pain, but because your nervous system has been wired to associate unpredictability with intimacy, or because you want a redo and want to finally earn the validation you didn’t feel during childhood. 

Add to this the social narratives we’re sold: that love should be dramatic, all-consuming, filled with longing and sacrifice. That the “right” person will fix you or validate your worth. These messages can make it incredibly difficult to discern between trauma and true connection. You start mistaking familiar feelings for safe ones. But familiarity isn’t always a good sign – especially if what feels familiar is chaos, neglect, or emotional unavailability.

If you find yourself stuck in this kind of relational loop, know this: it’s not because you’re weak or broken. It’s because your system is doing what it was trained to do – seeking connection in the only way it's known.

But that doesn’t mean you have to stay there.

Healing begins with consciousness – noticing the pattern, naming it, and gently disrupting it. That might look like slowing down. Creating distance. Sitting with the discomfort of not being chosen and offering yourself the steadiness you never received. It might look like finding relationships – romantic or otherwise – where safety doesn’t come in waves, but in steady presence.

Because love isn’t meant to be a high followed by a crash. Love is a nervous system that can rest.

Have you resonated with this article? Take some time to journal or reflect on the following:

• Think of a relationship where you felt addicted to someone’s attention. What were the patterns of contact or communication like? Were they consistent or unpredictable?
• What did it feel like when they gave you attention? What did it feel like when they pulled away?
• Does this remind you of any relationships in your early life (e.g. parents, caregivers)?
• What kind of love or attention feels safe to your nervous system? Do you trust consistency, or does it feel boring or unfamiliar?
• What beliefs do you carry about what love should feel like?
• What might it look like to practice love that feels steady, slow, and reciprocal?
• Are there sources of steady love available to you right now? How might you recognise or begin to cultivate more of them? 

Why therapy can help

Breaking free from patterns that were wired into us by early relationships isn’t about willpower or self-blame. It’s about compassionately understanding how your nervous system was shaped and creating new, safer templates for connection.

Therapy offers a space where you don’t have to perform, fix, or earn your place. A space to explore your past without getting stuck in it, and to build a present where love no longer feels like a gamble.

If this article has stirred something in you – recognition, curiosity, or a desire to approach relationships differently – please do reach out to a professional. You're not alone in this, and support is available.