Let's Fall in Limerence

A new book codifies the agony of romantic love

Dear Ralph,

Your four love letters arrived today. My landlady said a heavily sweating man stuffed them in the mailbox and lurched off like a wounded kiwi, so I assume you delivered them yourself. A million thanks, really.

All the letters make fine reading, but I was particularly struck by your complaint (letter 2, page 27) of a persistent heavy feeling in the chest that can only be relieved by sighing. Ralph, this is a clue. You are not just in love, you are limerent. This is a brand-new word made up by a University of Bridgeport psychologist, Dorothy Tennov, in her new book on romance, Love and Limerence. If you haven't guessed it already, limerence is the ultimate, near obsessional form of romantic love.

Now pay attention to this, Ralph. Here are the telltale signs of limerence: pressure in the chest (literally "heartache"), an acute longing for reciprocation, fear of rejection, drastic mood swings, the growth of passion through adversity, and intrusive thinking about the LO, or "limerent object."

Tennov says the average limerent love affair lasts about two years. In the first wave of passion, the limerent thinks of the LO about 30% of the time, but in the second wave, which hits some months later, it can rise to 100%. The poor limerent is so hooked that nothing matters except the beloved, and feelings swoop between ecstasy and pain. This can be a drawback. You spend much of your time writing letters or diaries; you can't get your work done; all your friends decide you are a bore (mostly because you are). Limerence can strike at almost any age, and men seem to be just as susceptible as women. There's also an edge of violence in limerence. On the basis of an informal survey, Tennov estimates that 11% of limerents have attempted suicide when a love affair has gone badly.

Feminists, if they come down with it, have it worse than anyone else. This is because limerence depends on game playing, coyness, trial balloons and all sorts of other manipulations that the women's movement can't abide. And besides that, Tennov says, limerence tends to re-create the old me-Tarzan-you-Jane sex roles --once the game gets started, a perfectly sensible woman becomes dithery and feebleminded and every spidery little fellow starts pounding around like Mean Joe Greene. And heaven help the woman who takes her limerence problem to a shrink! Tennov thinks that limerence is as likely to break out in psychotherapy (me shrink, you supplicant) as almost anywhere else. This may be why you hear about so many shrinks limerencing their patients. On the other hand, you have to admit that Tennov doesn't much like shrinks. She's the author of Psychotherapy: The Hazardous Cure.

I can hear you asking, Ralph, why the limerent picks one person and not another. Some therapists say it's because the LO reawakens an unsolved psychic problem, and seems to offer a solution to it. The beloved, glimpsed across a crowded room, may resemble a parent, grandparent or sibling. Family Therapist Norman Paul of Boston says the beloved "tends to match someone else in your life that you've forgotten about." Tennov thinks the process is far simpler. The limerent scans the field and picks out the most attractive available lover that can reasonably be expected to return one's love.

Most cultures think of the limerent as a bit crazy, but you're in good company, Ralph. Stendhal, Heloise and Henry VIII were limerent. Lord Byron is the best-known dropout from limerence; after the Sturm und Drang with Lady Caroline Lamb, he simmered down. Something worth thinking about, Ralph.

Still, most people probably can't do much about their limerence (or non-limerence). The problems come when a limerent hooks up with a non-limerent, and each tries to guide the other into behavior that does not come naturally. Tennov found that some non-limerents manage to con themselves into thinking they are limerent, just to please a flagrantly limerent LO. Others feel suffocated by the constant demands.

This never works, Ralph, and I must tell you flat out that I am not a limerent. In fact, I am what Tennov calls a "pseudo-limerent nonlimerent." If I were a limerent, believe me, there is no one else I'd rather limer with than you, and I mean that most sincerely. You and I are caught in a world we never made, but in the future limerents and non-limerents will identify themselves at the very start of an affair. Tennov says so right on page 263. Until then, the only thing a limerent can do, if attracted to a non-limerent, is "run like hell" from the word go, she says. Poignantly late for us, I'd say. Have lots of limerence, Ralph, and if you'll just send around a UHaul, I'll be happy to return your letters.

Sincerely, Wanda

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.