Romanticism as a suppression dynamic for both sexes

When it comes to intersexual dynamics, one often-overlooked fact stands out: men tend to be more romantic than women. This might sound counterintuitive—especially given cultural portrayals of women as the more emotional sex. But in reality, many men—particularly those who have not yet fully confronted female hypergamy, mate-switching, and the dual mating strategy—approach relationships with far more idealization and emotional vulnerability than they should.

Before a man has seen the full emotional spectrum women are capable of—ranging from genuine affection to emotionally cold detachment activated by hypergamous recalibration—he often leans heavily into romantic thinking. He creates narratives of soulmates, eternal loyalty, emotional fusion, and unconditional love.

This form of romanticism is not exclusive to men, but it manifests differently across sexes. While women can fall into romantic fantasy as well—often fueled by media, novels, or emotional projection—the male version is more existential. Men tend to build their entire self-worth and purpose around a singular female figure, which can become dangerous once her behavior violates the romantic myth.


Romanticism, then, is not simply a poetic instinct. It is often a psychological suppression—a retreat from the biological and social realities of mating behavior.

Which sex tends to drift further from reality through romanticism is debatable—but what’s certain is this: romanticism blinds both sexes to the transactional, strategic, and often subconscious nature of mating. And this blindness can be costly—especially for men who fail to update their worldview in the face of hard evidence.

The male need for romanticism: Surrender as self-avoidance

The male need for romanticism in relationships is often not rooted in love—but in the withdrawal from personal responsibility. For many men, especially those who have not fully structured their lives under a clear, self-authored value system, romanticism becomes a coping strategy—a beautifully packaged form of strategic suppression.

At the core, high-value men—especially those with strong potential for leadership—feel a deep urge to grow, to dominate their field, or to ascend toward legacy. Depending on life stage, this drive might express itself as:

• Building one’s sexual market value to attract a worthy partner

• Scaling a business

• Establishing a family

• Committing to a woman through long-term partnership or marriage

In all cases, such a man tends to operate with a monotheistic, singular value hierarchy. One top value—whether it’s mission, God, legacy, or transformation—anchors the rest of his structure. This singular focus makes voluntary sacrifice meaningful. It provides energy, discipline, and structure even in the face of pain and setbacks. The man knows what he is suffering for.

But here lies the danger:

If that singular value becomes “the woman,” romanticism takes over.

When a man elevates the woman—his relationship partner or wife—to the top of his value hierarchy, he locks onto her as the object of worship. This dynamic has been echoed for centuries—from Byron’s military romanticism to Romeo’s self-immolation for Juliet.

Such men don’t just love—they surrender. They sacrifice their purpose, mission, and masculine growth for a singular emotional symbol. From the outside, it appears noble. But psychologically, it is often something else entirely:

Avoidance.

When romanticism becomes escape

This type of grand emotional surrender doesn’t stem from strength—it often arises from the inability to face one’s own unresolved inner battles. The man redirects his focus toward a noble “cause” (the woman), which conveniently satisfies all of Tony Robbins' Six Core Needs:

• Certainty: She is always the mission.

• Variety: Relationships provide emotional turbulence.

• Significance: His suffering becomes a symbol of his depth.

• Connection: He feels deeply “in love.”

• Growth & Contribution: Framed as sacrifice and loyalty.
  
  

From the outside, he becomes the archetypal martyr. But from the inside, he’s using the woman to avoid confronting the chaos within.

This is why so many women, after months or even years, report feeling suffocated by “a good man who gave them everything.”
At first, the pedestal feels flattering.

But soon, it becomes oppressive—because the woman realizes that the man’s attention on her is not supplemental to his well-developed self—it’s a substitute for it.

What felt like love becomes a spotlight turned interrogation lamp. And what once made her feel adored now makes her feel trapped.

A woman can love a man.
But she cannot become his reason to live.

Romanticism as a deviation from masculine development

In Jungian terms, the man is avoiding the shadow. He does not want to face the parts of himself that are:

• Weak

• Addicted

• Undisciplined

• Fatherless

• Unworthy

Rather than transmute these shadows through disciplined action and self-confrontation, he seeks emotional salvation through the woman. And romanticism becomes the cathedral where he hides from himself.

This is not love.
This is not strength.
This is not masculine.

The right path is not to begin with full emotional surrender. It is to become the kind of man whose life is so complete, grounded, and directionally aligned that a woman wants to enter and build with him—not carry his broken weight.

Female romanticism – A love affair with a ghost

While much is said about male romanticism and emotional overinvestment, the same psychological mechanism can often be found in women—but in a more solipsistic and fantasy-driven form.

Contrary to cultural cliché, women are not less romantic than men. In fact, their emotional neurocircuitry, stronger connectivity across hemispheres (Ingalhalikar et al., 2014), and innate tendency to relate through feeling rather than logic, make them even more prone to romantic delusions—especially when deep admiration meets emotional uncertainty.

In a healthy relationship, a woman genuinely admires her man. She feels proud of him, looks up to him, and is inspired by his clarity, his strength, and his direction. This is possible when he possesses higher sexual market value—not only in terms of looks or money, but status, discipline, vision, and respect from other men and women. When these conditions are met, the woman can surrender to her role as the emotional admirer without having to fabricate attraction.


In such cases, the woman gives what she can—sexual intimacy, loyalty, emotional support, even childbearing—in hopes of receiving love, attention, and family structure in return.

But trouble begins when this admiration dynamic persists without reciprocation—when the woman is deeply romantic about a man who does not actually need her for anything.

The ghost she’s in love with

In these cases, the man may be charming, charismatic, powerful, and magnetic. But he has no reason to commit—because the woman provides nothing he cannot easily outsource:

• Companionship? He has friends and family.

• Support or advice? His business circle and male mentors do it better.

• Sex? He has options—and in high-SMV circles, access to it is abundant.

The woman falls into over-romanticization: she projects onto the man a version of him that would want to build a future with her. She convinces herself she’s in a relationship—but in truth, she’s in a long-term emotional illusion.


She is in a relationship not with a man, but with his hypothetical potential—a ghost.

And like all ghost stories, this one is driven by avoidance.

Instead of facing the ugly truth—that she is replaceable, redundant, and unessential—she clings to a fantasy of future commitment, kept alive through fragments of affection, transient intimacy, and ambiguous signals.

What is she truly offering?

If asked directly: “What are you offering that he cannot get anywhere else?”—many women fall into a string of self-validating abstractions:

• “I’m always there for him.”

• “I understand him deeply.”

• “I support him emotionally.”

• “I’m loyal, calm, and experienced.”

These statements, while sincere, fall apart under scrutiny—because high-value men already have these needs met, and usually from better sources:

• For emotional support and strategic advice: close male friends, business partners, mentors, or family.

• For sex: other female admirers, casual relationships, or even professional services.

• For conversation and company: a wide and stimulating social circle.

In such scenarios, the woman becomes a comfortable companion, but not an irreplaceable asset. The one potential anchor—childbearing and family creation—is often not even on the table, and if the man hasn’t initiated that conversation within a year, it likely never will be.

Romanticism masks emotional redundancy

The core issue is not the man’s cruelty or deception—it is the woman’s inability to self-assess her own value proposition. Romanticism serves as a shield from the truth: that she is giving things that are not unique, not difficult to access, and not structurally necessary for the man’s life.

The relationship carries on—not because he’s building a future with her, but because she’s pleasant, available, and non-disruptive.

Eventually, the emotional dynamic collapses. The man remains casual and indifferent, while the woman spirals into confusion, desperation, and loss of self-respect. What began as romantic admiration becomes emotional self-erasure.

The Relationship Escalation Paradox

What does it really mean when one party falls into romanticism while the other maintains emotional distance?

The answer is simple:
The one with more optionality and less to lose holds the power.

If that’s the woman, she may enjoy admiration from a man who places her on a pedestal while quietly scanning the horizon for a better mate. This is the core mechanic of hypergamy: a woman will stay with a man only as long as she genuinely believes he is the best she can do with her current sexual market value and resources.

If she perceives that she’s at a temporary low point in life—aging, emotionally burned out, or economically struggling—she may keep the "SIMP" around as a comfort buffer, knowing deep down she could do better, but also aware that doing so would require:

• Self-confrontation

• Breaking her current lifestyle

• Facing the open market with no backup plan

And as one woman admitted candidly in consultation:

“That would suck.”

So she remains in limbo—living on crumbs, emotionally speaking, compared to what she knows is possible—but unwilling to take the necessary steps to get there. Meanwhile, the romantic man—whose main contribution is endless admiration—continues to pour attention and validation into a dynamic that only reinforces the woman’s stasis.

The man in control: Passive gain, zero risk

Now reverse the roles.

When the man is the one being admired, he’s in an enviable position. He holds all the cards:

• He enjoys consistent intimacy

• He gets admiration without having to earn it through long-term investment

• He incurs no obligations—emotional, legal, or financial

Especially for older, high-value men, this setup is optimal. They get sex, companionship, and emotional softness—without the burden of commitment or escalation.

They know exactly how far they can go without rocking the boat—and the one thing they’ll never do is initiate the “Where is this going?” conversation.

Why? Because they understand that the moment the romantic illusion becomes a negotiation, they risk:

• An ultimatum: “Ring or door.”

• The collapse of the current arrangement

• A forced confrontation with expectations they never wanted to meet

These men—often experienced, emotionally controlled, and strategically disengaged—never step on the landmine. They maintain ambiguity, offer surface-level gestures (birthday plants, casual affection), and keep the frame calm and low-stakes. It works.

The tragedy behind female romanticism

And yet, on the other side, the romantic woman still holds out hope. She tells herself:

• “If I don’t push too hard, he’ll eventually choose me.”

• “Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be the one who changes him.”

• “He’s not like the others. He’s just emotionally wounded.”

But deep down, she knows:

The only reason this dynamic still exists is because she has not risked breaking the illusion.

She tolerates low-effort holidays, empty promises, and the occasional emotional breadcrumb because—however hollow it may be—he’s still in her life. And that’s better, she thinks, than the void of absence.

But if she were to be completely honest, she’d know the truth:

That day never comes.

Because the arrangement already works perfectly—for him. And that is the paradox: the more she waits for him to change, the more she guarantees that he never will.

In conclusion

Romanticism—when untethered from personal growth and reality—becomes a trap for both men and women. It’s not love. It’s a form of self-deception, a psychological strategy to avoid the hard work of improving one’s actual sexual market value.

For men, romanticism often manifests as the idolization of a woman, placing her at the top of his value hierarchy. This becomes a convenient way to avoid confronting his shortcomings, lack of purpose, or absence of a compelling mission. By offering endless admiration and emotional sacrifice—actions that require no true effort, no actual transformation—he gets to feel morally superior. He tells himself he is “a good man,” “a loyal partner,” “a devoted spouse.” But this moral narrative is often a shield—used to avoid responsibility for building a life worth inviting someone into.

For women, romanticism is more often temporary. In the early stages, being admired feels good. But the emotional high fades. Eventually, the relationship continues only as long as nothing better appears. This is hypergamous inertia: she stays until she upgrades—or until the illusion collapses.

The female version of romantic delusion is harder to spot. On the surface, it may resemble healthy admiration. She’s with a high-value man, she admires him, she gives him affection. But over time it becomes clear: he will never dedicate himself, because he doesn’t need to. He enjoys the sex, the comfort, the attention—but he pays no real price. And she receives no real commitment.


That’s the cruel lesson: for the man in this dynamic, the benefits are high and the cost is near zero.

And after years of romantic self-sacrifice, what does she have to show for it?

• A few quirky birthday gifts.

• Some memories.

• A harsh realization.
  
  
  A man’s willingness to dedicate is not equal to his value. It is the multiplier of it. And if that multiplier is zero—so is the relationship.