By Julie Githiri

Can it be as simple as incompatibility?

Attraction might be there.
Sexual chemistry might hum beneath the surface.
The body responds. The eyes linger. The conversation flows.

And yet there is something.

Something unnamed.
Something that does not fully settle in the nervous system.
A quiet internal knowing: this isn’t it.

They are not the person you instinctively want to be fully vulnerable with. Not the one you feel safe unravelling beside. Not the one you trust with your softer edges sexually or emotionally.

In many cultures particularly within African and diasporic communities’ compatibility is often measured through visible markers: family background, faith, education, reputation, culture, profession. Attraction may be secondary. Stability is prioritised. Endurance is admired.

But the body has its own criteria.

As a Psychosexual therapist, I often see the gap between external compatibility and internal safety. Two people may look perfect on paper. They may even perform intimacy well sexually fluent, attentive, responsive.

But sex without emotional safety eventually exposes the fracture.

Because sexual intimacy is not just a physical act. It is psychological exposure.

When you are sexually naked, you are not only offering your body. You are offering history. You are offering attachment style. You are offering the blueprint of how you learned to give and receive love.

And sometimes, even when desire is present, the deeper nervous system does not feel safe enough to attach.

We mistake arousal for alignment.

But arousal is chemistry.
Attachment is regulation.

One can exist without the other.

In clinical work, I see how early exposure shapes adult choice. If love in childhood was inconsistent, intrusive, emotionally unavailable, or overly conditional, the adult self may equate intensity with intimacy.

So, what feels like “chemistry” may actually be familiarity.

The nervous system says, I know this pattern.
Not, I am safe here.

And so, we enter connections that feel magnetic but destabilising. The sex may be passionate. The longing intense. But underneath, there is a subtle contraction a reluctance to fully rest.

That contraction matters.

Especially when the heart is ready. When you genuinely desire a relationship rooted in trust, respect, and integrity. When you are not seeking drama, but depth.

In that season, the body becomes more discerning.

You begin to notice:

Do I feel calm after intimacy or anxious?
Do I feel expanded or slightly diminished?
Do I feel chosen or tolerated?
Do I feel met or managed?

In many African family systems, vulnerability is not always modelled openly. Emotional literacy may be limited. Children learn resilience, responsibility, strength but not always attunement. Not always repair. Not always emotional transparency.

So as adults, we may know how to commit.
We may know how to endure.
But do we know how to feel safe being fully seen?

Sometimes what doesn’t land is not a failure of compatibility it is a misalignment of emotional capacity.

One person may be ready to build securely. The other may still be negotiating their relationship with vulnerability. One may want exclusivity; the other may want admiration. One may be sexually open; the other emotionally guarded.

And the body knows.

It knows when touch feels connecting versus consuming.
It knows when desire feels mutual versus performative.
It knows when you are slowly abandoning yourself in order to maintain the connection.

Not every attraction deserves access to your body.
Not every chemistry deserves attachment.

And not every relationship that ends was a mistake.

Some were lessons in discernment.

The deeper question becomes:

What was I exposed to that now guides my decision to let love land?

Was affection freely given or earned?
Was conflict safe or explosive?
Was closeness nurturing or overwhelming?

Because your adult sexuality is not separate from your childhood attachment. They are intricately linked.

The partners you feel drawn to.
The ones you hesitate with.
The ones you desire but do not trust.

These patterns are rarely random.

Incompatibility is real. Timing is real. Emotional readiness is real.

But so is self-awareness.

When love truly lands, it does not require you to override your intuition. It does not demand you shrink, perform, or prove.

It feels steady.
Grounded.
Unforced.

Not perfect but emotionally coherent.

And perhaps that is the quiet distinction between a love that excites… and a love that endures.

With warmth

Jules