How many times do we fall more in love with the idea of someone than with who they really are?

  When I ask this question, I’m not just talking about romantic love – I mean friendships, family members, and even people we admire. I think we’ve all had that moment when we meet someone, like one or two things they’ve done… and without even noticing, we start mentally filling in all the blanks with qualities we wish they had.

  Sometimes, the connection is real. But more often than not, what actually happens is that we fall more in love with the image we’ve built than with the person standing right in front of us.
As I read and reflected on this, I realised it’s a natural tendency. It’s part of our desire to believe in the best of people – to crave strong, meaningful bonds. But I also realised that this is where most of our disappointment begins: we idealise so much that any slip-up or difference from what we imagined feels like a betrayal.

  And it’s important to understand: feeling hurt by a mistake is valid – it’s human to feel pain. But deep disappointment is often our own responsibility. Because we expected more than the person was ever able to give, ignoring signs that were probably always there.

Today, I wanted to explore exactly that:
• Falling for the idea of someone
• Creating expectations based on just a few actions
• And, often without noticing, expecting people to act the way we would

  And maybe, reflect on how we can stop waiting for perfect versions of people – and start accepting them as they truly are.
  One of the easiest traps to fall into is creating an entire narrative about someone based on a few isolated gestures. Sometimes, all it takes is a little attention, the right words, or a shared view for us to automatically assign a whole list of virtues – often without real evidence.

  It’s almost instinctive: we want to believe that a good first impression is enough to trust, admire, or connect. But the truth is, one kind gesture doesn’t define an entire person – just like one bad moment doesn’t either. We are all far more complex than any single instant.
  The problem is, when we build huge expectations from so little, we end up following a version we created – not the actual person. And the bigger the expectation, the harder the crash when we realise that this person also makes mistakes, is also inconsistent, or simply doesn’t match the fantasy we projected.

  Personally, I love meeting new people. Not in big social settings, but in one-on-one conversations. There’s an inexplicable joy in discovering a new way of seeing the world – a new mind, a new story. The endless topics that can come from a single exchange of ideas have always fascinated me.
What happens, though, is that I often create a nearly unshakeable impression right off the bat. If it’s positive, I struggle to accept that this person might also mess up and make poor choices. If it’s negative, I’m surprised when I see kind gestures and noble actions. It’s as if, to me, people are either all good or all bad – no space for the grey area that, let’s be honest, we all have.

And that’s where the trap lies: when we idealise too much, we forget to see the real human behind the image we’ve created.
Idealising someone doesn’t just stop us from seeing who they really are – it also leads us into another trap: expecting them to react, think, or behave exactly as we would.

  And that’s something I admit I’m still learning to deal with. So often, I catch myself thinking: “If it were me, I’d have done it differently”, “If I were in their shoes, I’d have acted like this...” As if my way of seeing the world had to be the universal standard.
  But the problem with that mindset is that I forget everyone has their own story, their own wounds, and their own limitations – and no one is obligated to think or feel like me.
Expecting someone to make the same choices I would is not respecting their individuality.
  It’s wishing they were an extension of me, when in truth they are their own person – just as complex and imperfect as I am.

  I remember a situation in a relationship where we had an argument, and in the middle of the conflict, I expected my girlfriend to defend me. To me, it was obvious: I’d done that for her before, and I would’ve done it again without thinking twice. But she didn’t.
  At the time, I was deeply disappointed. In my mind, standing up for the ones we love – whether friend or partner – was something natural, almost instinctive.
Today, with a bit more maturity, I can understand that in her mind, stepping in might’ve only made things worse. Maybe, for her, protecting me meant staying silent.
But back then, what hurt wasn’t just what happened – it was the expectation I’d built of how she should have acted. And that expectation was based on my way of thinking and feeling, not hers.

In the end, it’s natural to idealise people – especially when we care about them.
But it’s important to make a conscious effort to see others as they truly are, not just as we wish they were.
One thing I’ve learned (and am still learning) is that, to avoid disappointment, we should pay more attention to consistent actions over time – not just isolated gestures that feed our hopes or desires.
Loving someone isn’t about projecting a dream or expectation onto them; it’s about accepting the real person, with everything they are – and also with what they’re not able to be.
It’s realising that we all have flaws, we all have limits – and that truly loving someone also means embracing that imperfection.

And maybe the greatest challenge – and the greatest sign of maturity – is being able to look at the person in front of us and, instead of asking “Why aren’t you who I wanted you to be?”, being able to say: “I can love you exactly as you are.”

In the end, the question I leave is:
Are we loving real people – or just the idea we created of them?