Nana Banana
On Valentine’s Day, the enduring allure of "The One" captivates countless hearts, a potent belief that somewhere out there exists a soulmate, a perfect match, a person destined to complete us. This romantic ideal, steeped in poetry and popular culture, suggests a singular, preordained partner who will effortlessly align with our deepest desires and make us feel whole. But what does contemporary science, from psychology to biology and even mathematics, reveal about this profound human longing? Is love truly a matter of cosmic alignment or something far more intricate and actively constructed?
Across the annals of human history, the notion of predestined love has taken many forms, reflecting the cultural and philosophical landscapes of its time. In ancient Greece, the philosopher Plato, through Aristophanes’ speech in his dialogue The Symposium, posited a mythical origin for our quest for connection. He imagined primordial humans as spherical beings, blessed with four arms, four legs, and two faces, possessing immense power and radiating brilliance. Fearing their might, Zeus, the king of the gods, cleaved them in two, scattering their halves across the earth. Ever since, each fragmented being has wandered, driven by an innate yearning, searching for its missing other half, the one who will restore their original completeness. This potent myth laid the poetic groundwork for the modern soulmate concept, promising a profound sense of belonging and resolution once "The One" is found.
Centuries later, during the Middle Ages, this primal longing was reinterpreted through the lens of "courtly love." Troubadours and Arthurian legends, such as the tales of Lancelot and Guinevere, propagated an idealized, often unconsummated devotion. Knights pledged fierce, sometimes forbidden, fealty to a beloved, proving their worth through acts of chivalry, self-sacrifice, and unwavering dedication, even if their affection could never be openly declared or fully realized. This form of love, distinct from the pragmatic, often economic arrangements of marriage, emphasized spiritual and emotional connection, setting a precedent for love as a transcendent, almost sacred, bond.
By the Renaissance, playwrights like William Shakespeare elevated these themes with their "star-crossed lovers" – couples like Romeo and Juliet, bound by an overwhelming, immediate connection, yet tragically separated by external forces like feuding families, societal pressures, or cruel twists of fate. These narratives suggested that the universe itself might conspire to both create and thwart these powerful, fated unions, imbuing love with an element of grand, cosmic destiny. In more recent times, Hollywood blockbusters and romance novels have further cemented these fairy-tale love stories, perpetuating the myth of a singular, perfect match waiting to be discovered.
But what does the latest scientific inquiry say about soulmates? Is there truly a particular special someone out there for us, or is our understanding of romantic love a construct of cultural evolution and psychological needs?
Viren Swami, Professor of Social Psychology at Anglia Ruskin University (ARU) in Cambridge, has meticulously traced our contemporary European understanding of romantic love back to its medieval roots. He points to stories of Camelot, Lancelot, Guinevere, and the chivalry of the knights of the round table as pivotal in shaping our modern ideals. "These stories first pushed the idea that you should choose one other individual as your companion and that companion is for life," Professor Swami explains. Prior to this, in much of Europe, love was often fluid, less constrained by exclusivity, and frequently detached from sexual partnership.
The concept of "The One" gained further traction with the advent of industrialization. As individuals were uprooted from their traditional agricultural communities, severed from extended family networks and familiar social attachments, a sense of alienation began to take hold. Professor Swami argues that people, dislocated from their communal support systems, increasingly began "looking for one other individual to save them, to save them from the wretchedness of their lives." This profound societal shift fostered an intensified yearning for a singular, all-encompassing romantic partner who could provide stability, meaning, and emotional refuge in an increasingly impersonal world.
Ironically, today’s digital dating apps, designed to facilitate connection, often transform this ancient quest into a process Professor Swami describes as "relation-shopping." The search for a soulmate, meant to be deeply personal and profound, can become a paradoxically "soulless experience" for many. Users endlessly swipe through profiles, reducing potential partners to a series of curated images and bullet points. "You’re shopping for a partner… going through possibly dozens of people on the dating app until you get to a point where you go… I need to stop," he notes, highlighting the exhausting and often dehumanizing nature of this algorithmic pursuit of perfection.
Jason Carroll, Professor of Marriage and Family Studies at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, is sympathetic to the deep human desire for "The One." "We are attachment-based creatures," he affirms. "We desire that bond." However, he challenges his students to reframe their understanding of "The One," encouraging them to abandon the rigid notion of a "soulmate" while retaining the aspiration for a unique, profound connection. This seemingly contradictory advice hinges on a crucial distinction: the difference between destiny and deliberate effort.
For Carroll, a "soulmate" is passively found, a pre-made entity whose arrival is purely a matter of fate. In contrast, a "one and only" is something actively forged and cultivated by two individuals over time. "A one and only is something two people carve out together over years of adapting, apologising, and occasionally gritting their teeth," he explains. This perspective underscores that profound connection is not an accident, but a continuous, collaborative creation.
Carroll’s argument is built upon decades of research, which he distilled in his influential report, "The Soulmate Trap." This work primarily distinguishes between "destiny beliefs" – the conviction that the right relationship should feel effortless and perpetually harmonious – and "growth beliefs," which emphasize the active role partners play in nurturing and improving their relationship. A widely cited series of studies conducted in the late 1990s and early 2000s by Professor C. Raymond Knee at the University of Houston provided significant evidence. Researchers found that individuals who held strong "destiny beliefs" were far more prone to doubt their commitment and the viability of their relationship after experiencing conflict. They interpreted disagreements as signs of fundamental incompatibility, evidence that their partner was not, in fact, "The One." Conversely, those with more "growth-minded views" tended to remain more committed, even during periods of intense argument or difficulty. They viewed challenges as opportunities for understanding and development rather than insurmountable obstacles.
People with growth-based views, Carroll argues, still aspire to a special, unique bond, but they anticipate and accept that rough patches are an inevitable part of any long-term partnership. "They ask… what can they do to make their relationship better, have improvement and have growth?" he observes. In his view, the "soulmate belief" acts as a trap not because romance is inherently flawed, but because it fosters an unrealistic expectation that love should never be hard. The most "soulful" aspects of a lasting relationship, he suggests, are not cinematic declarations, but the privileged position of having "front-row seats not only for each other’s strengths, but… [their] challenges and weaknesses." This intimate vulnerability, he contends, creates a sacred space where partners truly know and accept each other.
The soulmate trap, Carroll warns, makes relationships particularly vulnerable when they encounter their first serious snag. The immediate thought for destiny believers is, "’Well, I thought you were my soulmate. But maybe you’re not, because soulmates aren’t supposed to deal with things’," he says. This mindset prevents the crucial work of problem-solving and compromise. "But if relationships are going to go long term, it’s never just going to be a downhill run."
Vicki Pavitt, a London-based love coach, frequently encounters individuals who believed they had found their soulmate, only to discover that the intense "fairy tale" chemistry was intertwined with emotional manipulation, inconsistency, and pervasive anxiety. "When there is a lot of chemistry and the spark, I think that can sometimes be about opening old unhealthy patterns, like old wounds," she explains. A partner who is inconsistent, or who plays "hot and cold," can create a powerful, addictive dynamic. "A person who is inconsistent or plays a bit hot and cold can make you feel ‘I can’t wait to see them again’, but what’s really happening is they’re giving you so much anxiety and that it has you wanting more."
Pavitt posits that what is often perceived as destiny might, in fact, be a deeply ingrained pull from our nervous system recognizing familiar patterns of past hurt, attempting to "fix" or resolve them. Therapists refer to this phenomenon as a trauma bond. This bond can mimic the intensity of profound love, drawing individuals magnetically into unhealthy dynamics not because they are perfectly matched, but because the patterns are familiar and unconsciously compelling.
A pivotal study supporting this concept was conducted by Canadian psychologists Donald Dutton and Susan Painter, published in 1993 during their tenure at the University of British Columbia. They followed 75 women who had recently left abusive partners, measuring the strength of their continued attachment to their exes and correlating it with the nature of their relationships. Their findings were striking: the strongest bonds were not observed in women who had experienced consistent, unremitting abuse, but rather in those whose partners had alternated between periods of charm, affection, and extreme cruelty. This intermittent reinforcement creates a powerful, confusing cycle of hope and despair, making it incredibly difficult to break free.
Dutton and Painter argued that this "trauma bond" helps explain why individuals can feel irresistibly drawn back to relationships that are objectively detrimental to their well-being. The intoxicating mix of danger and intermittent affection, while destructive, becomes a familiar, even addictive, pattern for the nervous system, mistaken for profound connection rather than a sign of unhealthy dynamics. This distinction is what Pavitt strives to illuminate in her coaching practice: "It’s about discerning whether the chemistry you feel is showing me this person’s compatible with me or if it is a familiar sense of anxiety." She concludes, "In my language, I never talk about soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there is one person for everybody… but I do believe that we become ‘The One’ for someone."
If psychology and evolutionary history suggest a more nuanced view of "The One," then the biology of attraction further complicates the notion of a singular soulmate. Hormonal contraceptives, for example, have been shown to subtly reshape how partners perceive and feel about each other. Research suggests that birth control pills, by flattening the natural ebb and flow of a woman’s fertility cycle, can dampen the shifts in attraction that typically occur across the menstrual cycle. This can potentially alter initial mate choice, as a woman’s preferences for certain masculine traits (like facial symmetry or body odor, which can signal genetic compatibility) may change depending on whether she is on the pill when she meets a partner.
One large study involving 365 heterosexual couples revealed that women’s sexual satisfaction was notably higher when their current contraceptive status matched what it was when they first chose their partner. This suggests that changes in pill use, such as discontinuing it after years, could subtly shift how a partner is experienced, potentially altering perceived chemistry. While these biological effects are typically small, they offer a compelling explanation for some couples’ puzzling shifts in attraction and dynamics over time, further undermining the idea of a fixed, unchanging "perfect match." If hormones and external factors can tilt who feels like "The One," it becomes exceedingly difficult to argue for a single, preordained partner.
This leads us to the realm of mathematics, which offers yet another perspective on "The One." Dr. Greg Leo, an economist at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee, has developed a compatibility algorithm that suggests a startling conclusion: not only might you have "a One," but you likely have many "Ones." In his "Matching Soulmates" paper published in the Journal of Public Economic Theory, Leo creates computer simulations with thousands of digitally generated daters who rank each other. His algorithm then identifies "first-order soulmates" – pairs who mutually choose each other in a "stable matching." These pairs are then removed from the pool, and the algorithm runs again with the remaining daters, identifying "second-order soulmates," and so on.
In these simulations, it was exceedingly rare for individuals to have their mutual first picks. However, a significant number of people found "matches" with those who were their second or third picks, or even further down their list. In this mathematical scenario, a couple is considered "happy" if each partner is near the top of the other’s preference list, and neither can find an alternative partner whom both they and their current partner would prefer more. The elegance of this "love algorithm" is its quantitative demonstration that, from a statistical standpoint, there are numerous viable partners for almost everyone, not just a single, elusive "The One."
So, if science largely dismisses the notion of a singular, predestined soulmate, how can couples actively cultivate a relationship that feels uniquely "meant to be"? Jacqui Gabb, Professor of Sociology and Intimacy at The Open University, explored this very question in her "Enduring Love project," published in the journal Sociology in 2015. This extensive research involved surveying approximately 5,000 people and then conducting in-depth studies of 50 couples, using a forensic approach that combined statistical analysis with personal diaries, detailed interviews, and "emotion maps" charting daily life within the home.
Gabb’s findings were revealing. When participants were asked what made them feel most appreciated and loved, it wasn’t grand gestures like sunset proposals or surprise trips to Paris that topped the list. Instead, it was "surprise gifts, thoughtful gestures and the kindness of a cup of tea in bed." It was warming the car on a cold morning, picking wildflowers and placing them in a vase, or sharing a private, knowing smile across a crowded room. Quantitatively, these "everyday attentive acts" proved far more powerful and impactful than infrequent, extravagant romantic displays. In her survey, 22% of mothers and 20% of childless women identified such small gestures as one of the top two things that made them feel valued – a higher percentage than those who prioritized big nights out or expensive presents.
The study concluded that relationship satisfaction was not primarily driven by financial status or conventional romance, but by "intimate couple knowledge" and its consistent, thoughtful expression in daily life. Gabb points to a young couple’s diary entry from the project, where Sumaira describes her partner coming home, the dinner she has cooked, a hug in the hallway, and their shared meal at the table. "It’s perfect," she writes. "Just us and food. What more could I want?" The entry continues with a spontaneous dance, a walk in the dark, and a photo her partner cherishes. It reads like a beautiful, ordinary day – no glass slippers, but perhaps wellies. Yet, Gabb emphasizes that beneath this sweetness lay shared challenges: money worries, family obligations, and a history of depression that the couple was actively learning to navigate together. "The soulmate feeling here doesn’t float above life; it is made, inch by inch, by life, in the way the pair meet those pressures," she concludes.
Ultimately, the insights from science don’t diminish the magic of romance; rather, they provide a framework for it to truly flourish, through both good times and bad. As Jason Carroll articulates, "I’m pretty comfortable with the aspiration to be in a unique special relationship as long as we remember it needs to be created." Vicki Pavitt agrees, suggesting that "it’s fine, helpful, even to have faith that your person is out there, so long as you know there are many people that you could form a really great connection with and stop expecting anyone to be perfect."
The science of soulmates points to a profound paradox: the individuals who ultimately experience relationships that feel uniquely "meant to be" are often precisely those who ceased waiting for fate to deliver them a perfect partner. Instead, they consciously turned towards the flawed, complex person in front of them and, through consistent effort, understanding, and shared growth, effectively asked: "Shall we make something truly extraordinary of this?" It is in this active co-creation, rather than passive expectation, that the most enduring and deeply soulful connections are forged.
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