I once had an ex-boyfriend say to me, “When you’re mad, I know it’s not fair to you, but it’s like you took the sun away. I’ve never been as sensitive to a woman before you.”
At the time, I didn’t know what to make of that. I wasn’t particularly dramatic and I am never cruel in conflict. I didn’t scream or slam doors. I grew up in a situation where I had to be the de-escalator, so maybe more than most people I really do have a lot of capacity to stay steady when I feel afraid. I am far more likely to fawn than attack.
But looking back I guess I can admit I was intense in a different way—fully present, emotionally honest, and after I turned about 35 no longer willing to fake peace just to keep things smooth. Not because I liked conflict, not because speaking out was comfortable for me, but because all the other sneaky methods of trying to be treated fairly hadn’t ever worked.
And for some people, that presence—especially when upset at them—feels enormous. Like weather. Like something they can’t control, only orbit.
It took me years to realize that what he was describing wasn’t just our personal chemistry. It was part of a larger pattern I’ve experienced, and that I now see in many of my clients. The more attractive you become as a person—especially in a way that isn’t manufactured or manicured but embodied and real—the more complicated everything gets.
Maybe you finally find your writing voice, grow into your superbly long legs (they used to be awkward, now somehow shapely), hit a remarkably successful working out streak, bury your demons in five years of nervous system work and just basically end up feeling pretty much ok about yourself day in and day out. You don’t feel that anxiety or need to compare that used to control you. You care about people but aren’t controlled by how they feel about you.
Whatever your combination of factors is, waking up in a spot in life where you somehow are just very attractive to other people is complex.
Again I’m not talking about surface-level attraction here. This isn’t about being hot on Instagram, or having the right paycheck, or being liked in the comments. I’m talking about energetic attraction. Presence. The kind of magnetism that happens when you are attractive to yourself first—when you’ve cultivated inner eroticism with life itself. That kind of inner radiance does something to the world around you. It opens doors. It makes people pay attention.
It brings in opportunities, connections, invitations, offers.
And it also brings projection. Misinterpretation. Overattachment. Or in some cases, outright fear.
Because being energetically attractive is not just about receiving—it’s about being seen. Or, more accurately, being perceived. And when that perception is strong, people start to attach their own meanings to you.
You might become, in their mind, a symbol. A solution. A fantasy. An adversary. A mirror.
The hard part is, once you hold that kind of charge in someone’s experience, your hurt or your disappointment doesn’t land as neutral. It feels like punishment. Your praise feels like a crown. Your anger feels like exile. Your affection feels like salvation.
That’s what my ex meant about the sun.
He wasn’t being poetic—he was confessing something true for him. I didn’t have to scream to affect him. My presence was already calibrated so loudly in his nervous system that any shift in energy—especially withdrawal—was experienced as punishment, even if it wasn’t intended that way on my part.
And this is where it gets really unfair.
When you’re the real thing—not just curated and polished, but genuinely alive, grounded, magnetic in your wholeness—it’s easy for people to forget that you are a person too. They stop seeing your needs. They offer you less, because they assume you need less. They get scared of your jealousy or sensitivity, because they’ve decided you are too “powerful” to be vulnerable. Your human moments become threatening, because your baseline is so solid.
It is so easy to treat someone poorly when you subconsciously decide they are “too good for you”.
It can make your circle smaller. It must make your inner circle smaller.
Not out of ego, but out of necessity. The more visible and magnetic you become, the more you have to learn to manage the energy coming toward you. You become someone who can’t afford to leave the gate wide open. You’re not cynical, but you’re discerning. You have to start layering your access. You don’t let everyone in, even if everyone wants in.
And that’s what’s so tricky. If you’re not careful, people will assume your boundaries are arrogance. That your sadness is manipulation. That your no is rejection of them, not just an honest limitation between what you can offer and what they are requesting of you.
So to be clear: I think being attractive to yourself—really grounded in your own erotic aliveness, your joy, your sense of beauty and wholeness—is a gift. It’s the start of everything good. But being more attractive to others, especially in a real and resonant way, is not simple. It asks for skill. It asks for humility.
It asks for an unwavering commitment to self-respect without overexplaining. It asks you to stand in the storm of other people’s confusion and give them space to either adjust or stand fuming outside the gates.
Because when people are deeply moved by you, your presence becomes a form of leadership—whether you want it to or not. The choice really isn’t yours to make.
And leadership, as any honest leader knows, is a burden and a gift. Just like real beauty. Just like real power. Just like real love.
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.
This experience has been the most difficult to navigate thus far in my life. From the experience itself to becoming aware of said experience to accepting the reality of this lifestyle--it's all been extremely difficult for me to process. Because on one end I think, "how could you find so much comfort in treating me this way?" While on the other end, I stand firm with my belief that, "I will not allow you to treat me this way."
You're right, it's not about physical attraction, but more so energetic attraction. The penalty of being energetically attractive is not discussed enough, in my opinion. Many people do not believe this is a real thing. But as someone who is physically and energetically attractive, it is definitely a real thing, and so is the penalty from others that comes with it.
And mistaking boundaries for arrogance is one of the most hurtful, in my opinion. Because my boundaries are what protect me from harm. I set boundaries like everyone else. It seems that it's far more accepting when other people set boundaries, when other people say "no" and advocate for themselves. However, when I do the same as everyone else in the room, it's viewed as arrogance? Because you find me attractive in some way? The explanations in this post is exactly what I mean when I say, "It's hard being a mirror." Because it truly is. And yet again, from your post, I feel seen. Thank you.