Once upon a time when I was a humble resident at the outpatient clinic of the University of Kansas School of Medicine, Wichita, Kansas, I shared a patient with a psychologist in private practice.  He was Jewish, of eastern seaboard origin and training.  He asked me for a date, and we dated a few times.  Dr. C. was really smart, and was a top-notch therapist who knew plenty more than a lot of the university types. After four dates, he did not even try to kiss me — not even a chaste peck on the neck — nothing, really. I liked him.  He was a puddingy guy, in both body and disposition — no athlete, not a heartthrob, and I certainly could not motivate myself to kiss him first.  But I really did like him. I asked him, as gently as I could, if he wanted to continue to hang out, because it was plain to me that this was not going anywhere.

“We got no limerence,” he told me. He was a little disappointed that I did not know the meaning of the word.  I shrugged my shoulders; this was psychology, not psychiatry, and I knew plenty of stuff, but not this. He told me that when he looked at me, he saw the tiny piece of food stuck between my teeth.  Besides, I was a “larger” woman and he preferred shorter. He was really saying I was too heavy, which I would have been for lots of folks at that time. I thanked him for his candor. I saw him next at a local film series with his date, a very thin woman with crooked teeth, who did not seem to have any food stuck between them. He was right.  We had no limerence. As far as I was concerned he didn’t find me in any way “sexy” and didn’t want to try and that was just fine, really.  It was all cordial and we continued to share patients. Curiously enough, I was friendly with his family. The idea of a psychiatrist and psychologist being married and practicing together was financially seductive to his family.  It was easy to stay with them when I was invited East to present a paper at a conference. I told his sister-in-law, after a warm greeting, that love was not going to happen and certainly not marriage but I needed friends and I was only a resident so not very rich could I stay with them anyway?   She laughed and then so did I. All of this has been good. I now have love and limerance and a thousand other delicious things with my beloved husband. Still, I checked up on Dr. C’s use of the term “limerance,” and it was accurate. Read more on Limerence And Love…