We live in a generation where saying "I like you" is easy, but staying is rare. Where Filipino teenagers fall in love with the thrill of connection, but never follow through with commitment. We want the feelings, but not the responsibility. We want the warmth, the comfort, the illusion of something real. Until it asks us to choose. And suddenly, we ran.
I’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of love too many times. The kind that flirts with consistency but never follows through. The kind that calls you "mine" in private, but keeps you nameless in public. The kind that says “I love you,” but never chooses you when it matters. And for some reason, that kind of love is so normalized now, especially among Filipino teens.
Maybe it’s the culture of "ligaw-ligawan" that never leads to anything. Maybe it’s the obsession with the idea of love rather than the effort it actually takes. But whatever it is, it’s toxic. And painful. Because you can be loved deeply, intensely, and passionately, and still not be chosen.
There’s this twisted kind of romance going around. We give each other boyfriend-girlfriend treatment, act like a couple, say all the right words—but without the commitment. We text all day, call until midnight, send sweet good mornings, and make each other feel wanted. But when it’s time to define things? To make it real? Suddenly, there’s hesitation. Suddenly, there’s fear. Suddenly, they say, “I’m not ready.”
And that’s what hurts the most. Not the rejection, but the “almost”. The illusion. The way they made you believe that you were enough to be loved, but not enough to be pursued. They made you feel special, only to retreat when things got serious. They made you feel wanted—but never fought to keep you.
Filipino teens have mastered the art of emotional attachment without accountability. We chase connection, but we avoid commitment like a disease. We want someone to make us feel less alone, but we don’t want to carry the weight of actually loving them. We confuse desire for devotion. We offer affection, but not assurance. And we think that’s okay. But it’s not.
Because being loved without being chosen slowly destroys your self-worth. It makes you wonder what’s wrong with you. Why do they act like they care, but never claim you? Why do they treat you like you matter, only to pull away when you ask to be prioritized? It’s exhausting. It’s cruel. It’s emotionally manipulative, even if unintentional.
I used to think it was my fault. Maybe I was too much. Too emotional. Too clingy. Maybe if I had just stayed quiet, stayed chill, stayed “low maintenance,” I would have been picked. But no. I’ve learned that when someone really wants you in their life, you won’t have to shrink yourself to fit their comfort.
To be wanted but never chosen is to live in uncertainty. You’re loved just enough to stay hopeful, but never enough to feel secure. And deep down, you know they’ll never commit. You know you’re just a temporary cure for their loneliness. But you stay anyway, because even borrowed love feels better than none.
It’s time we call this what it is: emotional cowardice. Stop leading people on if you’re not ready to commit. Stop playing house if you’re not ready to build one. Love is not a game. Hearts are not playgrounds. If you’re not going to choose someone fully, then don’t make them believe that you will.
In conclusion, to every Filipino teen who has ever been made to feel wanted but never chosen, this is your reminder: you deserve more. You deserve clarity, not confusion. Commitment, not convenience. Real love doesn’t leave you guessing. Real love chooses you. Loudly, consistently, and completely.
