Brittany Broski once said, “I am someone else entirely when you remove the need to be loved.”This quote has stuck with me for a long time. It brings up a delicate question: if I’m not desired, who am I? Which seems crazy because, obviously, I know who I am intellectually, and humans are not made up of other people’s love for them. Emotionally, however, that knowledge seems almost unstable without love. I do believe that women inherently struggle with this more than men, and in this article, I will go into why.
For the majority of women, love is a persistent thought. Not an obsession, but a presence. Love is a constant hum rather than a single desire. It lingers in the background of ordinary days and influences decisions that at first glance have nothing to do with romance. Romantic potential does not only exist on dating apps or at candlelight dinners. It is found in much quieter, smaller places. It shapes how women present themselves in social settings. It appears in the subtle adjustments of tone, posture, and personality. The slight recalibrations that make someone more palatable, more inviting, more desirable.
Much of this operates subconsciously. We rarely realize we are doing it, which is what gives it so much power.
There is often a subtle mental calculus running beneath everyday life. Could I be loved like this? Am I attractive in this light? Am I too loud? Too ambitious? Not ambitious enough? A negotiation unfolds between a woman’s authenticity and desirability. Between self-expression and the possibility of being chosen. The most unsettling aspect is how normal this feels. How seamlessly the question weaves through daily life:
Am I desirable?
Am I enough?
The patriarchal norm has trained women to be looked at, evaluated, and chosen. Girls often are praised for their beauty before their intelligence. Society has come a long way throughout history regarding women’s autonomy. However, what we understand politically does not rewrite what women have learned emotionally.
For centuries, women’s social value was explicitly tied to marriage. To be chosen by a man was not just desirable; women were trained from birth to do so. Marriage determined a woman’s economic security, social standing, and protection. Those who did not marry young were labeled as “spinsters.” A spinster was not a neutral term, but it implied failure and lifelong loneliness.
In this context, love has never just been emotional — it was structural. To be loved meant to survive. To be housed, fed, protected, and recognized. To be unloved meant vulnerability, ridicule, and invisibility.
Even as marriage is no longer a requirement for survival in the same way, the emotional residue of history remains. Cultural memory does not disappear simply because laws change. These ideas that love grants legitimacy are still echoed in the media and everyday interactions. Romantic fulfillment is proof that a woman is lovable, worthy, desirable, and complete. Independence is praised, but only up to the point where it does not threaten the expectation of eventual relationships.
There is often a sort of tension built up here. Women are expected to have ambition, self-knowledge, and individuality, yet are also simultaneously taught to soften those qualities to make them easier to love. Emma Watson’s 2014 United Nations HeForShe speech encapsulates this quite well. She states, “When I was eight, I was confused at being called ‘bossy,’ because I wanted to direct the plays that we would put on for our parents – but the boys were not.” This double standard is what makes young girls feel as if they are not acting in a “feminine” way. Whether they were called bossy or aggressive for simply wanting to take on a leadership role, young girls should not feel as though they have to hide a part of themselves that boys don’t have to for the sake of being likable. It teaches women not only how to behave, but how to imagine themselves. Who they are alone is rarely centered compared to who they are in relation to being wanted.
This is why the absence of desire can be destabilizing. When love has long functioned as a form of validation for women, its removal not only creates a sense of loneliness, but it also creates a vacuum. Without the feeling of being wanted, identity can feel unstable. The question is no longer “why doesn’t anyone love me?” but rather,“who am I when no one is looking at me that way?” That question is both frightening and revealing. It exposes how deeply external affirmation has been stitched into our self-understanding.
Yet, there is something radical in confronting that emptiness rather than rushing to fill it. To exist without curating oneself for love is to encounter a version of the self that has not been changed or negotiated. It is uncomfortable because it is unfamiliar, but it is also where agency begins. When desirability is no longer the top priority, other values can surface.
The point is not to reject love or desire entirely. Love is meaningful, sustaining, and deeply human. The danger lies in allowing it to function as proof of worth.