Why On Earth Do I Still Dream About My Ex?

And I've been happily married for 20 years.

By

Kimberly Witt

 
Published August 27, 2025
illustration of woman dreaming of being with her ex
Eva Redamonti

Earlier this spring, my husband and I spent a delightful evening at a concert, one of our favorite shared activities. I contentedly fell asleep after a night of holding hands and singing beloved songs. Then I vividly dreamed about building a life with the boy I loved at age 16. I woke up deeply unsettled, especially after such a wonderful night with the man I did build a life with.

I wish this had been a one-off experience for me, but it wasn’t. Several times a year, I dream of the first boy I ever loved.

In these dreams, I’m texting him, desperate to make sure he knows how I feel. Of course, this makes no sense. When we were together in the mid-1990s, baggy flannels were in, and texting was something from a science fiction movie.

In another memorable dream, I’m frustrated because his younger sister won’t let him talk to me. Unlike texting, this one tracks. I don’t think she liked me much.

I wake up from these dreams feeling ashamed, like I was cheating on my husband, despite more than 20 happy years of marriage.

What’s wrong with my subconscious? Why can’t I stick to dreams about missing teeth or scary tornadoes?

Do these dreams mean something is wrong with my marriage? I set out to learn more.

First, I turned to my friends.

I quickly discovered I’m not alone. Many of the women I talked with — even those currently in healthy relationships — had confusing and unsettling dreams of high school or college relationships. Some dreamed of longing for their old loves, and others had nightmares.

As these women shared their theories of interpretation, I found some common ground. One friend said, “I think [this ex-boyfriend] implanted in my mind because we grew up together.” That rings true for my teenage love. So many of my formative high school experiences involve him, and the psychological concept of the reminiscence bump confirms the power of memories from our teens and early adulthood.

Another friend believed she dreamed of one particular ex-boyfriend because the relationship was “strongly emotional and confusing” and didn’t have a clear ending. Her experience resonates with me, too. My early high school relationship turned into a prolonged will-we/won’t-we until I met my now husband.

Armed with the peace that I wasn’t the only one plagued by dreams of first loves, I continued my search. What were my dreams really telling me?

Then I turned to the research.

An initial Google search assaulted me with all kinds of pop psychology theories: I dreamed of first loves because my current relationship was stale, or it revealed an urge or desire I didn’t know I had.

I wanted answers more satisfying than “you miss the thrill” or “your marriage must be stale,” so I did what any former English major would: I hit the books.

The cognitive theory of dreams, as explained by psychologist Jacques Montangero in his article “Using Dreams in Cognitive Behavior Psychotherapy,” asserts that our dreams aren’t hiding things, like Freud taught, but “simply represent things in a concrete, eventful, visual and economic way.” In other words, dreams are symbolic representations.

I learned my dreams have more to do with my present life than my past.

In his book This Is Why You Dream, neuroscientist and neurosurgeon Rahul Jandial teaches that to interpret dreams, we should examine two aspects: underlying emotions and central images. Like Montangero, Jandial reminds readers to think of these images as metaphors.

So, dreams about my first love aren’t a sign that I’m unhappy in my real-life marriage; instead, I can focus on the emotions he represents and the symbolic role he plays in my sleeping life.

Because my teen relationship lacked a clear resolution, perhaps I dream about him when facing other confusing and inconclusive situations, like an unresolved conflict at work or an ongoing dilemma with one of my young adult sons.

When I dream about communication breakdowns with my ex-boyfriend or struggle to reach him in the dream, it might reflect similar frustrations in my real life. Maybe I’m having trouble expressing myself in a conversation with my husband or miscommunicating in a text exchange with my siblings.

No matter how I interpret these dreams, I rest much easier knowing they’re about my daytime drama, not longing lust or a miserable marriage.

Now, as I drift off to sleep — hours before my night-owl husband — I find reassurance in our nightly litany. “I love you,” one of us begins. “I love you more,” the other quickly follows.

And I know that whatever dreams may come or who plays a starring role, I’ll be happy to wake up next to my husband — the one I keep choosing.

Do any of you ever dream about an ex? Does it bother you? Let us know in the comments below.

Kimberly Witt is an Iowa transplant placing roots in St. Paul, Minnesota. Together with her husband of more than 20 years, she is raising two amazing young adult sons born in Ethiopia. An adjunct English professor and freelancewriter, she spends her free time exploring her city and delighting in everyday life. She writes about the messiness of parenting, faith, and middle-agedness.