Relationships/Love

Green Flags Mean Go, Not Run

To the anxious ones who want love but are afraid to love again.

Green might mean go, but it’s not supposed to mean run. Tell that to a person who has been hurt before though. I can handle red flags in relationships and dating. I know what to do with them. I’ve learned the hard way to recognize when someone just isn’t a good fit and no longer qualifies as a potential partner. But I’ve also learned to recognize green flags, the signals that someone is a good person and worth getting to know better.

Unfortunately, green flags make me want to run.

Let me see if I can explain this in a way rational people will understand. Recognizing and honoring red flags… well, that’s easy. There’s little risk in seeing that someone isn’t right for us and cutting off that connection. It’s not fun, but it’s the right thing to do.

With green flags, we recognize positive characteristics in the other person. Signs of stability, intelligence, emotional maturity, and kindness put us at risk if we’re afraid, deep down, to love again because we know it puts us at risk of being hurt again. I can navigate an endless array of bad matches and know my heart isn’t at risk. Good matches are a little terrifying.

But green flags are supposed to mean go. They provide an indication that we can safely continue to get to know this person. They tell us to keep going because we’re seeing the traits we want and need to see. I know that. I know it doesn’t mean to run away. But tell that to a heart still scarred from the last time it dared to love.

I remember falling in love. Before it happened, I was so scared of it. I’d been hurt. I didn’t want to risk it again. But I met someone who changed and challenged all of that. I was so sure that he was right, it didn’t feel wrong to fall. I didn’t just fall; I took that leap. And the landing hurt like hell. It still stings from time to time.

So, imagine being pushed to the brink again, only the pushing is imaginary and comes from those green flags and the brink is the fear that falling in love means being left at the end of it. Instead of seeing safety and reward, I see risk. I see the potential to be hurt. I see my past playing out in my present, and I want to run and hide. It feels safer. In fact, it feels even safer than seeing and managing red flags.

Now that I recognize this pattern, I can learn to stay.

I can learn to hold my ground. I can wait for the fear to pass and allow myself to get to know a good person better. I don’t have to leap, but I can take cautious steps forward rather than giving in to the urge to run.

When we experience a fear response at the thought of connecting with someone new, we can practice soothing our nervous system. For some, deep breathing is an effective tool. For others, tapping (also known as Emotional Freedom Technique, EFT) is a technique that helps. Sometimes, we just need to tell ourselves that the fear response is based on past experience, not a present circumstance. Just as we were once conditioned to anticipate pain, we can condition ourselves to expect positive outcomes.

We can also observe our own patterns. It helps to know that I make different choices now that I used to when it comes to dating. I’m no longer attracted to the red flags I see out there. It’s completely changed my dating experiences. While I rarely find great matches, I can honestly say that most of the interactions I have aren’t toxic, just incompatible. The dating options haven’t changed at all; I have.

Being able to reassure ourselves that we’ve changed our patterns and learned our lessons can help us remember that having done so can change the outcomes we experience. In the past, we experienced these anxiety surges or butterfly feelings when we recognized toxic traits and red flags. Later, we would pay for ignoring our intuition.

When we experience the same anxiety surge at green flags, we can remind ourselves that the experiences aren’t the same. We might anticipate pain because of the past, but if we’ve changed our patterns, we’ve also disrupted the pattern that leads to that pain. However, that intellectual acceptance still needs to be accompanied by soothing the physical and emotional response we’re experiencing in our nervous systems.

I deserve a good, healthy, kind relationship.

I know that. I also know that even good relationships can end badly. Even people who love us can accidentally hurt our feelings and disappoint us. It’s not abnormal to develop a healthy reticence for the experience. I just know that if I want that good, healthy, and kind relationship, I have to stop blocking it by shying away from good men. I have to be able to look directly at the problem and face it — and the problem is me.

As much as I’d like to take a hard pass on ever hurting again, that’s just life. There’s no way to opt out of that part of it. If I could, I probably would. But since I can’t, I need to lean into my fear and discomfort because I know it’s coming from a reactive place, not a rational one. If I want the chance to connect with a good person, and I do, I’ve got to get out of my own way.

That’s easier said than done. I can get in my own way better than anyone else and then stubbornly refuse to move. But I don’t want to be the cause of my own heartache because connecting is terrifying to me. I know that if I lean in and let it happen, I will get to experience all the wonderful parts of connecting with others. By blocking the pain, I’m also blocking joy, love, and intimacy from entering my life. I’m keeping the good things out because I’m so worried about the threat of bad things.

My imagination can be my worst enemy when fear leads the way.

Frankly, I’ve worried about plenty of bad things that never came to be. I’ve begun to challenge myself to imagine that things will go well. It’s not easy, and it takes effort, but it helps me see people in a different way. It helps me see dating in a different way, too.

I’ll never be the kind of person who just fearlessly falls in love with one person after another. I never was. It’s hard for me to connect in that way, and when I do, it’s even harder for me to let go. I loved one person with my whole soul, and it took years for that damage to heal when it ended. Some days, I still feel the echoes of that pain. I’m so glad I was brave enough to leap that time, but I also understand that it’s made me more reluctant to do it again.

But this is me, getting out of my own way. It’s me, saying that I need to stop treating green flags like a sign to run and using my fear as an excuse to keep everyone far from my fragile heart. It’s me, soothing my nervous system and reminding myself that this time really will be different. It’s me, realizing that my heart is far stronger than I’ve ever given it credit for.