Have you ever met someone who, for reasons you can’t quite put your finger on, just doesn’t feel “like you”?
Something about them feels slightly off, regardless of if you admire them or think they are annoying. The word that always comes to mind for me is dislocated. It’s like there are two parts of them—the one you see and another you can sense—but it’s hidden.
They don’t feel real.
When this happens, the brain immediately seeks a logical explanation. It always wants a reason why.
The easiest solution? Mentally placing these people either above or below us.
Above us:
“She’s so beautiful; she can do better than me.”
“He’s so successful; he can have anyone he wants.”
Below us:
“She’s judging me.”
“He’s only looking for sex.”
“She isn’t as nice as she pretends to be.”
“He’s boring.”
"She probably has a personality disorder.”
But what if that’s not what’s really going on?
Celebrities are the perfect embodiment of this phenomenon. A lot of movie stars feel unrelatable—not because they aren’t authentic, but because our brains struggle to differentiate between the character and the person. Blake Lively and Taylor Swift come to mind as women we’re collectively compelled to either worship or hate. When you notice this internally pulling away from neutrality and objectivity, it’s worth being curious about it.
Celebrities aren’t the same as the branded characters they profit from. The persona they project—the character they play—isn’t real. This often means they can only partner with people who’ve experienced celebrity life themselves or those who knew them before their “script” was written.
Rita Hayworth famously said, “Every man I knew went to bed with Gilda and woke up with me.” Famous people must carefully protect their off-screen identities or they’ll lose them.
But what about people whose “off-screen” identity just feels… strange?
I’ve coached quite a few women with this exact problem. They easily attract dates and compliments, but men hesitate to go beyond surface-level relationships with them.
And no, it’s not because they’re intimidating—that’s just the convenient answer.
We all know successful, famous people who still feel relatable. You don’t have to agree with their politics to see that Barack and Michelle Obama, for example, exude approachability. They’re the kind of people you can imagine sitting on the porch with.
On the flip side, we also know people who logically check our boxes, but something about them feels… off. They might be interesting or even elicit our sympathy, but they’re unlikely to become your best friend.
So, ask yourself:
Are you this person?
Do you find it easy to collect admirers or sympathizers but struggle to create lasting connections? Does it feel like, as people get closer, they pull away?
If this resonates, it’s worth asking: What’s the story you’re presenting to the world?
Have you created a character version of yourself that’s misaligned with how you truly feel? Do you carefully calculate the “right” thing to say, even if it doesn’t match your emotions?
Do you even know how you feel?
The “real you” and the “presented you” should feel like facets of the same person—not two entirely different identities.
Authenticity builds bridges, while disconnection builds walls.
What I’m describing is disembodiment. On some level, you’ve decided that your true emotions or needs are wrong. At some point, you changed yourself externally, but that version of you doesn’t align with your inner world.
To those who start to get close, you may feel like a huge, scary lie.
To cultivate deeper relationships, consider these questions:
Are you showing people who you truly are, or are you editing yourself to seem more appealing? Remember, “appealing” can also mean presenting as weaker than you are—sharing a constant narrative of struggle to gain sympathy when, in reality, you move through the world just fine.
Do you feel safe being vulnerable, or are you protecting yourself with a persona?
How do you protect that persona? By ghosting or turning on anyone who causes discomfort? By pretending your intentions are always pure?
Do you find yourself leaning on money, success, or looks when you’re unsure of what else to do? Getting other people connected through admiration, sexuality, drama or feeling sorry for you in some way will never last. One of you will always end up leaving to look for something more substantial.
The truth is, people who feel “off” aren’t bad or broken—they’re just disembodied.
Through practicing embodiment and deeper connection skills, you’ll naturally begin to attract the right dynamics with people because you will feel safe. You’ll feel located.
You’ll transform admirers and sympathizers into family.
I write primarily to support my small business, christinaelaine.com
I am a somatic coach, writer, and curriculum creator writing about the interior life of modern relating, weekly on Medium & Substack. I also host interviews on YouTube.



Here's a question - how about if you don't "fit the mould" for what is typical for your group(age, profession, or whatever group you can think of)? Most people will think of you as "off".
However - trying to conform will be "off" and inauthentic.
How do you deal with those situations, where being "one of a kind" will lead to being judged as "off" to most people, yet that is who you truly are?