Since separating over a year ago, I’ve discovered something wild — apparently, there’s an entire species of men out there that I somehow missed during the last three decades.
Every man I meet now is completely different from my ex.
Different looks. Different energy. Different sense of humour, intelligence, grooming, dress sense — even the way they stand like they actually have a spine and self-esteem.
It’s like the universe threw open a new catalogue and said,
“Here, love — this is what you were supposed to see before trauma trained your nervous system to mistake chaos for chemistry.”
And honestly? Neuroscience backs me up.
When you spend years in a relationship that constantly activates your stress circuits, your brain adapts. It normalises cortisol surges, hypervigilance, and emotional suppression. You literally wire yourself for survival, not joy.
So now, when I meet a man who smiles with actual warmth, my amygdala doesn’t know whether to flirt or phone the Guardia Civil.
But here’s the thing — just because these new men are an improvement doesn’t mean I’m looking to “settle for slightly better.”
Let’s face it — statistically, that would include about 98% of the male population.
This isn’t about finding “someone better.”
It’s about finding myself — the version that remembers what she needs, what she wants, what makes her feel alive instead of anxious.
Because for years, I tuned my brain to someone else’s frequency — adjusting, appeasing, analysing, trying to decode moods faster than a trauma-trained FBI agent.
Now, I’m learning the science of me.
The neurochemistry of contentment.
The dopamine rush of laughter that isn’t followed by fear.
The oxytocin that comes from self-trust.
So no, I’m not dating to fill a gap.
I’m dating to understand which connections feel peaceful instead of performative.
And occasionally, to remind myself that chivalry is not extinct — it’s just really good at hiding behind a cappuccino machine.
Three decades of neglecting my own needs taught me one profound truth:
When you finally reintroduce your brain to safety, you don’t crave excitement — you crave ease.
And that’s not boring.
That’s biology doing its healing job.
By Linda C. J. Turner — Therapist & Advocate for Women’s Empowerment
Trauma Therapist | Neuroscience & Emotional Intelligence Practitioner | LindaCJTurner.com
