Why the Worst Partners Are the Hardest to Get Over

The relationship ended. You know you need to move on. But it can still be so incredibly hhhaaaarrrrddd.

Even when your past relationship was clearly unhealthy and nothing like what you wanted, it can be difficult to end it. Maybe you’re in an emotionally detached and empty relationship, but haven’t had the courage to move on. Perhaps you’re working to make things better and hoping that they’ll eventually match your effort. The common thread in each scenario is that you know you’re settling for less than you deserve, you know you never wanted this, and you feel like you just can’t leave.

In every case, you know what you should do, but can’t quite escape.

Why is it that the toxicity of a terrible partner is especially addictive?

Maybe you got out. When you did, you planned on never looking back.

And yet, it can be hard to implement that plan.

It’s not like you’re not meeting potential partners. Weirdly, the stable, kind, good partners don’t feel quite right. But, the chaotic match from eighteen months ago still preoccupies your thoughts. You know that’s backwards but you feel it anyway.

It’s not you.

Emotional attachment to an ex-partner takes time to fade. Research shows that, for the typical person, the emotional bond fades entirely around 8 years (Chong & Fraley, 2025). No, this doesn’t mean you’re stuck for almost a decade. But it does show you that ex-partners linger. Also, the fact that your ex is still on your mind isn’t a sign that you had a special connection or that you should go back. It just takes time for that connection to wither.

But, if attachment takes this long to dissolve for everyone, why does it feel like the bad ones take the longest?Partly, because although you know your ex was low-key toxic, the relationship was also pretty wonderful at some points (especially in retrospect).

Here’s what it looks like: Your rational side knows you shouldn’t miss it. You do anyway. Part of you craves the uncertainty and drama. It was complicated, mysterious, and exciting. In a weird way, it made you feel alive. But you’re conveniently leaving out the pain and misery you felt at the time.

Psychologists have a name for this, “ex-nesia.” Ok, they don’t call it that…but I do, and feel like we all should. Researchers actually call it the fading affect bias, which occurs when you more easily forget the negative aspects of past experiences, and more readily remember the positive emotions (Skowronski et al., 2014). (But we can all agree that “ex-nesia” is a lot easier to remember than “fading affect bias.”)

Although the fading affect bias can promote healthy coping in general (Gibbons et al., 2021), like when mothers forget the pain of childbirth, it backfires for toxic exes. You conveniently forget the worst parts, but remember much of the good.

Your ex-nesia is just one way a terrible partner is hard to move on from. There’s still so much more to it…

The worst partners possess a powerfully alluring combination of inconsistency and incomplete information.

You don’t know much about them, their past, or their feelings. It becomes a tantalizing puzzle to solve. (Unfortunately we’re suckers for a good mystery.)

Who is this person?

Fair question, because when you just start dating, partners are still a stranger for the first few months. At the exact time period in the relationship when you want to know literally everything about who they are, what they’re like, and how this will turn out…you actually know very little.

Naturally, your imagination runs wild and you starting filling in the missing information. That’s what I call a F.I.B. (Filling In the Blanks): When you don’t as much as you’d like, you infer the missing parts. And you don’t fill it in with just any information. You use wishful thinking. You hallucinate potential. It’s going to be great, they’re perfect, it’s magical, they’re the one. Really, there’s a lot of false hope.

Your cipher of a partner encourages it. Why? Because they know your feelings encourage you to give benefit of the doubt in exactly the way that’s most helpful to them. They know they don’t have real substance, so they rely on your fictions. They don’t have to lie, because you’re the one telling yourself the story.

Here’s an example of what a blank-filled partner looks like: Recently, a client was describing a conversation with a guy she’s been on three dates with. She asked him, “What are you looking for?” He hesitated, so she shared that she was looking for something “real,” long-term and committed. He then responds, “Me too, I’m just looking for the right person.”

Sounds promising, right? Only if you’re F.I.B.ing to yourself. When I suggested this wasn’t a rock solid reply on his part, she countered with “Well, he didn’t say he doesn’t want a long-term relationship, so he probably does. Or will.”

Sorry, but nope. That’s an overly generous and hopeful interpretation. If that’s really what he meant, he would have said so, and much more clearly. Look at what he actually said. Not much. If he really felt the same as you, how would he have responded? “Me too! I’m also looking for something real and long-term.” That’s an unambiguous response that doesn’t require F.I.B.ing.

Authenticity and honesty is very direct.

Partners give you blanks by avoiding sharing information and answering questions because they don’t want to tell you something you don’t want to hear.

Here’s another example I hear from lots of clients. You ask someone you’re dating, “Are we exclusive?” They respond with, “Well, I’m not seeing anyone else.” A perfectly unclear response. Unfortunately, if you’re filling in the blanks, you’ll hear it as commitment to exclusivity. But it’s really not. Not even close. It’s cleverly worded confusion. They could just mean right now at this very moment, I’m not seeing anyone. So you know it when you see it, this is what true commitment sounds like, “Absolutely, I only want to be with you and no one else.”

Communication researchers have a useful lens here called the warranting principle (Walther & Parks, 2002). When forming impressions of someone, information the other person can’t easily manipulate (what others say about them, what their actual behavior shows) is more reliable than the information they share themselves, which they can carefully curated to present a desired image.

Now consider what a vague, withholding partner gives you to work with. Nothing verifiable. No warrants at all. The entire impression is self-generated, except the self generating it is you. You curate their image for them. Not only does this type of idealization keep you in bad relationships, it also makes it more difficult to get over previous partner (Imhoff & Banse, 2011).

Don’t let your feelings about somebody get in the way of the facts. Which means you’re dating based on hope, not reality. You fall for the fantasy of what you wanted to be instead of paying attention to what actually was. Perhaps you convince yourself that you can see what no one can. (Which can make your connection feel artificially unique and special.)

We’re all guilty of filling in the blanks to some extent. The part that makes the worst partners so captivating is that they bait you into it. They’re purposefully vague. They don’t share much…of anything. What they share, they don’t share easily. You have to work for it. That keeps you hanging onto whatever tiny crumbs they begrudgingly share or accidentally let slip. Those morsels feel more valuable than they should because you had to work for them.

Perhaps you convinced yourself that you saw a side of them others never did. The real problem is that it makes your flimsy connection with an inconsistent and emotionally shutdown partner feel special. All of it keeps you coming back to see if you can get more. The dopamine payoff of the chase for more information is tantalizing (Are You a Dopamine Dater?)

There’s a reason no one else could see it. It was never there.

We’re actually pretty simple when it comes to relationships. We are all attracted to people who make us feel good. If they’re fun, funny, hot, handsome, new, exciting, and interesting we want to spend more time with them.

Even the world’s worst partner has their positive moments, otherwise they wouldn’t ever end up anyone’s partner. Not only that, bad partners are adept at timing. They’re not good most of the time, but they’re amazing in the right moments. They’re masters of the well-timed grand gesture. A really sweet text after days of silence. A great night after a bad week. Flowers, a gift, a proclamation of “I love you” in the exact moment when you need reassurance.

The ups and downs are exciting because it builds in a sense of intrigue. You spend days wondering if everything is falling apart. Then you get one amazing day that erases your fears. But then the cycle repeats. Congrats, you have a slot machine relationship based on intermittent reinforcement.

How do slot machines (which are one of the most profitable games in a casino) keep you coming back? Unpredictable rewards. Because casinos (and psychologists) know that not knowing when the good thing is coming, creates stronger attachment than consistent or predictable rewards. But, what anyone who has sat too long at a slot machine can tell you is that the house always wins, which means you lose.

The uncertainty around the relationship “payoffs” get easily mistaken for sparks, chemistry, butterflies, or attraction. Because that’s what we do. When we have a sensation in our body, we label or interpret it however we see fit. Ironically, the exact same uncertain feelings could just as easily qualify as signs of fear, threat, emotional risk, danger, or impending doom. All things equal, what organisms really want is homeostasis, or more plainly, predictability and stability. You don’t actually want all of that uncertainty.

Want even more proof that spark and “clicking” with someone is overrated? Researchers followed 168 couples from their wedding day for 13 years. The marriages that started with the most intense, cinematic romance were disproportionately the ones that ended in divorce. The couples who lasted started steadier and less sparky (Huston et al., 2001).

There’s a second problem when it comes to past partners: You can’t even trust your memory of the spark. When researchers listened to newlyweds describe how they met, they could forecast divorce with 87% accuracy (Carrère et al., 2000), and couples headed for a breakup recalled their beginnings with more disappointment and chaos (Buehlman et al., 1992).

Your recall isn’t always accurate though. It’s a story that keeps getting rewritten to match how you feel now. If you miss a past partner, or really want your current situationship to become something more, your memories will reflect your hopes.

Put those together. The “magic” you remember from the beginning of the worst relationships is the least trustworthy data you have, twice over. The spark was a bad sign when it happened, and your memory of it has been editing itself ever since.

When determining relationship success, baselines matter more than peaks. One great night a month doesn’t cancel out 29 mediocre or painful days.

Now put the two mechanisms together. The slot machine conditioned you to chase the good feelings. The F.I.B. gave your mind a perfect person to attach that conditioning to. You mind and body get hooked on two different fictions.

That’s why the worst partners are so hard to detach from. You’re avoiding a loss that isn’t tied to a real person. It’s phantom grief over the loss of a relationship that never existed.

The imaginary version of a person is perfect because it’s not real. That means it can be anything you want it to be in your mind. The old relationship that never quite materialized was still capable of being perfect. And maybe will if you give it another shot. Your current partner who never fully shows up, might, someday, with enough encouragement (or nagging). (Can you hear all of the false hope and anticipation in this?)

Both are projections. Neither are real. That means you can’t mourn the failed relationship directly. It just sits there, exerting a gravitational pull, making every other possible partner feel inadequate by comparison.

Scarcity seals it. When one person feels like your only option, you convince yourself to overlook obvious red flags and settle for less than you deserve. It’s not reality, it’s fear. Research shows how much it matters: When we fear being single, letting go of an ex becomes significantly harder (Spielmann et al., 2013), even when we know the relationship wasn’t good for us.

So no, you’re not weak, broken, or pathetic for still thinking about your worst ex or staying with someone you know is wrong for you.

The past is data, not destiny. But data only helps if you actually read it, and right now your memory is editing the file. Below are a set of strategies for paid subscribers: the reality-check exercise that overrides ex-nesia, the question that shows you who he actually was, how to write an ending that hands you the closure they never will, and the three scripts for when they resurface. Because they will. In my experience, it takes about a month and half, but they’ll circle back hoping you forgot how bad they were or lowered your standards. Best to get ahead of that to prevent future mistakes.

The worst partners are damaging because they’re not completely awful. But they’re all full of false hope. The truly great relationship you deserve is with a partner who is full of clarity, consistency, communication, and compatibility. That person doesn’t require any guessing, filling in the blanks, or unwarranted optimism about them changing.

Hope this helps,

Dr. L

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References

Buehlman, K. T., Gottman, J. M., & Katz, L. F. (1992). How a couple views their past predicts their future: Predicting divorce from an oral history interview. Journal of Family Psychology, 5(3–4), 295–318. https://doi.org/10.1037/0893-3200.5.3-4.295

Carrère, S., Buehlman, K. T., Gottman, J. M., Coan, J. A., & Ruckstuhl, L. (2000). Predicting marital stability and divorce in newlywed couples. Journal of Family Psychology, 14(1), 42–58. https://doi.org/10.1037//0893-3200.14.1.42

Chong, J. Y., & Fraley, R. C. (2025). The long-term stability of affective bonds after romantic separation: Do attachments simply fade away? Social Psychological and Personality Science. https://doi.org/10.1177/19485506251323624

Gibbons, J. A., Dunlap, S., Horowitz, K., & Wilson, K. (2021). A fading affect bias first: Specific healthy coping with partner-esteem for romantic relationship and non-relationship events. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 18(19), 10121. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph181910121

Huston, T. L., Caughlin, J. P., Houts, R. M., Smith, S. E., & George, L. J. (2001). The connubial crucible: Newlywed years as predictors of marital delight, distress, and divorce. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 80(2), 237–252. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.80.2.237

Imhoff, R., & Banse, R. (2011). Implicit and explicit attitudes toward ex‐partners differentially predict breakup adjustment. Personal Relationships, 18(3), 427-438.

Lewandowski, G. W., Jr. (2009). Promoting positive emotions following relationship dissolution through writing. The Journal of Positive Psychology, 4(1), 21–31. https://doi.org/10.1080/17439760802068480

Sbarra, D. A., Boals, A., Mason, A. E., Larson, G. M., & Mehl, M. R. (2013). Expressive writing can impede emotional recovery following marital separation. Clinical Psychological Science, 1(2), 120–134. https://doi.org/10.1177/2167702612469801

Skowronski, J. J., Walker, W. R., Henderson, D. X., & Bond, G. D. (2014). The fading affect bias: Its history, its implications, and its future. In J. M. Olson & M. P. Zanna (Eds.), Advances in Experimental Social Psychology (Vol. 49, pp. 163–218). Elsevier Academic Press.

Slotter, E. B., & Ward, D. E. (2015). Finding the silver lining: The relative roles of redemptive narratives and cognitive reappraisal in the experience of personal transgressions. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 32(6), 737–756. https://doi.org/10.1177/0265407514546978

Spielmann, S. S., MacDonald, G., Maxwell, J. A., Joel, S., Peragine, D., Muise, A., & Impett, E. A. (2013). Settling for less out of fear of being single. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 105(6), 1049–1073. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0034628

Walther, J. B., & Parks, M. R. (2002). Cues filtered out, cues filtered in: Computer-mediated communication and relationships. In M. L. Knapp & J. A. Daly (Eds.), Handbook of Interpersonal Communication (3rd ed., pp. 529–563). Sage.

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Note: Please forgive any typos or errors. Non-AI writing has its imperfections. Consider it the patina of a personal touch.