Embracing Ambivalence – Holding the Tension of Love and Doubt

Welcome back, Lovely Souls!

Have you ever loved someone deeply… and also felt frustrated by them? Or maybe you adore someone but dislike one of their habits, opinions, or the way they tell jokes? These contradictions can be jarring. They make us question: “If I feel this way, does it mean something’s wrong?”

We’re often taught to equate love with certainty. That when it’s “right,” we’ll just know. That love should feel effortless, uncomplicated, and free of doubt. In romantic relationships, this often shows up as the belief that love should begin with butterflies—or that hesitation means something’s off. But ambivalence, experiencing mixed or conflicting feelings about someone or something, exists in every kind of relationship, even the most connected ones: parent-child, siblings, friends. And feeling it doesn’t mean the love isn’t real.

Sometimes we feel deeply connected. Other times, we feel distance or tension. It can leave us unsure of what to do: stay or go? Move forward or pull back?

We live in a world that says, “If it’s not a full yes, it’s a no.” But that oversimplifies what it means to be human. We experience ambivalence in so many places—our careers, parenting, major life decisions. Why wouldn’t it show up in love too? And yet, we put pressure on love to rise above that complexity. But love—like life—is not black and white.

Ambivalence isn’t always a red flag—like our other emotions, it’s a messenger. An invitation to look beneath the surface: “What story am I telling myself about this situation? What old wounds or fears might be surfacing?”

What feels like doubt is sometimes an outdated form of self-protection. While we think we see things clearly, old stories might be shaping what we believe is possible, without us even realizing. Maybe we were taught love should start with passion, or that we’re too much or not enough. Maybe closeness feels risky because it once led to pain. Ambivalence might be pointing us to these old stories or beliefs, to something that needs care—not always in the relationship, but within ourselves.

When we feel uncertain, we tend to look outside of ourselves for answers: “Is my partner the right fit? Are they funny enough? Do they say the exact right thing?” But the more powerful questions are often internal: “What am I afraid of? What parts of me feel vulnerable right now? Am I waiting for someone to show up in such a specific way that it removes all my doubts—so I don’t have to sit with the discomfort of not knowing?”

Sometimes, when we feel unsure, we instinctively pull back. We wait for clarity before we invest, hoping certainty will arrive on its own. But the irony is that clarity often comes through showing up more fully, not less. When we take responsibility for our side of the relationship—with honesty, courage, and presence—it becomes easier to discern whether something is aligned. Avoiding or waiting might feel safer in the moment, but it rarely brings the clarity we’re longing for.

And when we do choose to stay—even in uncertainty—that’s a choice worth acknowledging. As Dr. Alexandra Solomon says, “Perhaps the opposite of ambivalence is not certainty, but patience.” That willingness to sit in the tension while we gently explore, instead of forcing a resolution can be an act of love in itself.

We don’t have to eliminate every doubt. We can be both in love and in process. We can feel unsure and still show up. We don’t need to feel certain to move forward.

And maybe this is part of what real love asks of us: to let go of what we think love is supposed to feel like. To hold someone in high regard even when we don’t always agree. To love someone not because they’re flawless or our love is flawless, but because we choose to show up for who they are—just as we hope they’ll do for us. Maybe the most grounded kind of love isn’t one that promises endless butterflies or perfect compatibility, but one that invites us to show up as we are, and to stay open even when it feels uncomfortable.

Of course, everything I’ve shared here assumes the relationship is rooted in emotional and physical safety. If there is abuse—emotional, physical, sexual, or otherwise—your ambivalence is not something to sit with, but a sign to prioritize your well-being. You deserve love that feels safe, respectful, and grounded in care.

So, if you’re in a season of uncertainty—if you're holding love and doubt at the same time—I hope you know: it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you, or your relationship.

Ambivalence doesn’t mean love is absent. It simply means you're human, with layers of emotion and history and complexity.

You don’t have to have all the answers today—but staying curious, honest, and willing to look within can bring more clarity than waiting for certainty ever could.

Certainty is rarely something we find—and maybe it was never the goal to begin with. Because love was never meant to be flawless. It was meant to be real. And sometimes, real love simply asks us to stay open, steady, and willing to keep showing up.

With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina