In today’s dating culture, many people find themselves trapped in a romantic purgatory; emotionally involved, physically present, but without a title, clarity or direction.
We call this a situationship, a connection that mimics a relationship in everything but commitment.
For those caught in its web, the experience often begins with spontaneity and chemistry, but soon dissolves into uncertainty, mixed signals and a quiet kind of heartbreak.
From the outside, a situationship may look like a relationship. There are sleepovers, romantic dates, inside jokes, deep conversations, maybe even holidays together. Friends know there’s someone in the picture.
You may be texting daily, sharing meals and exchanging affection. But when it comes to defining the relationship, the air is thick with avoidance. One person dodges the question, the other stops asking.
At first, the ambiguity can feel modern and liberating, a casual arrangement in an age that glorifies independence and flexibility. But that freedom often turns into emotional malnutrition.
People of all ages find themselves in situations where the burden often falls on the one who hopes for more. One person gives consistency, vulnerability and even devotion. The other gives just enough to keep the connection alive. For some, it feels like a relationship with an emotional ghost, present in the body but absent in the commitment.
According to Caroline Karanja, a psychologist specialising in trauma and relationship dynamics, situationships can mirror traumatic attachments. “They operate in a cycle of intermittent reinforcement,” she explains.
“You get affection and intimacy, then distance and ambiguity. This back and forth destabilises you emotionally. It’s the inconsistency that keeps people hooked, mimicking the addictive push-pull of early attachment trauma.”
It’s not always malicious. Sometimes the ambiguity stems from fear, emotional immaturity, an avoidant attachment style or a genuine inability to commit. But whatever the intention, the damage is often the same.
And then comes the hardest part: the end. Situationships don’t end with a breakup. There are no big fights, no closures and no goodbyes. Just a shift. Texts go unanswered. Calls become rare; ghosting.
The person who once said “I miss you” fades into silence. And the grief that follows is uniquely cruel, because you’re mourning something that was never officially yours.
“It’s disenfranchised grief,” Caroline says. “Because there was no defined relationship, people feel they have no right to grieve. But the emotional investment was real. The heartbreak is valid.”
What makes situationships so pervasive is the hope that fuels them. Hope that the person will change. That patience and loyalty will eventually be rewarded. But that patience often becomes paralysis.
And in a society where being in a relationship is still considered a badge of success, people remain in emotional limbo to avoid the stigma of being alone. Independence is celebrated, but only up to a point. The pressure to find a partner, especially in adulthood, drives many to settle for something that feels better than nothing.
Social media only reinforces this. Online, relationships are curated to perfection, anniversaries, couples’ goals and elaborate dates. Being single becomes a kind of invisibility. In such a climate, even an undefined relationship offers the comfort of visibility. You’re not completely alone. You’re “talking to someone”. That counts. Right?
But underneath it all, there is a hunger for clarity, for honesty, for mutual intention. And more and more people are starting to ask the hard questions: Why am I being loyal to someone who doesn’t want me? Why am I giving my commitment to someone afraid to give it?
Steve Harvey, in his book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, talks about ‘sports fish’ and ‘keepers’, those who are entertained versus those who are cherished. According to Steve, people who don’t demand clarity are often left with confusion. Those who assert their standards early teach others how to treat them.
Leaving a situationship is rarely easy. It means grieving for a person who was half there, half committed and half unavailable.
It means admitting that you wanted more and didn’t get it. But there is dignity in this honesty. Healing begins when you stop settling for the crumbs and start demanding the feast.
By Eve Waruingi
