Confessions of an Avoidant Attacher

I didn’t fully grasp how deeply my early childhood experiences influenced the way I perceived and navigated relationships.  For years, I wore my independence as a badge of honor, convinced that self-reliance was the ultimate strength. I avoided leaning on anyone—emotionally, physically, financially or otherwise, and often looked down on those I perceived as needy. Even though my relationships were complicated, messy, and often short-lived, I was successful in my career and met many of my financial goals early in life. Little did I know, my way of navigating intimacy wasn’t just a personality preference, but a hallmark of an avoidant attachment style.

Before beginning my healing journey, I often idealized my parents and childhood as a way to avoid confronting the truth that my emotional needs were frequently unmet as a child.  Instead of finding safety and attunement from my caregivers, I often felt criticized and ignored. Growing up, I quickly learned that vulnerability was often overlooked, disregarded, or worse- outright dismissed. My caregivers, though often well-meaning, were emotionally distant. It didn’t seem to be ok to feel scared, angry or sad as a kid.  I had to learn to take care of these feelings on my own, which I began to do through my shadow side. I spent most of my childhood alone, often in my room. What I didn’t realize then was that those formative experiences were laying the groundwork for a relationship pattern I’d carry well into adulthood. As I came to believe that relying on myself was the safest option, I constructed emotional walls and made an unspoken promise to guard my heart—vows that over time began to suffocate my relationships.

Avoidant attachment, as I’ve come to understand it, often develops in response to emotionally unavailable caregivers. As a child I adapted by minimizing my emotional needs and distancing myself from others. This coping mechanism might have helped me survive childhood, but it became a roadblock in forming deep, meaningful connections later in life.  These are some of the ways it showed up in my life-

I have been sensitive to criticism throughout my life, usually viewing it as a personal attack.  I think the solution to intense emotions is to run away from them. Withdrawing is my survival mechanism, and my nervous system often goes into a flee response. Since no one taught me how to meet my emotional needs, I also have a limited capacity to meet these needs in others. I people please to avoid conflict since intense emotions are so hard for me to be around. I don’t speak up for myself because of this fear of conflict-until one day I shut you out and then blame you, struggling to see how this pattern is perpetuated by my own fear of vulnerability.  I feel smothered by my partner’s emotional needs and pull away the more my partner clings.

Additionally, relationships as an adult often followed a predictable cycle. I’d be drawn to partners who wanted closeness and connection—often those with an anxious attachment style. In the beginning, their enthusiasm and need for intimacy felt flattering, even intoxicating. But as the relationship deepened, I’d start to feel suffocated and consumed. Their need for reassurance clashed with my instinct to pull away. The more they leaned in, the more I leaned out. Eventually, the relationship would end, leaving both of us hurt and frustrated.

It wasn’t until I stumbled across this concept of attachment theory that I began to see the pattern for what it was. This wasn’t just bad luck in love or a string of incompatible partners. This was me, repeating the same cycle over and over because I was too afraid to confront my own vulnerabilities.

Understanding my avoidant tendencies was like shining a flashlight into a dark room. Suddenly, I could see the ways I’d been protecting myself from pain—and also shutting myself off from love. But awareness alone wasn’t enough. If I wanted to break the cycle, I’d need to do the hard work of unlearning these deeply ingrained patterns.

Therapy became a lifeline. Experiencing a safe relationship with my therapist allowed me to open up to myself and my experiences and then eventually to others as well. My therapist helped me trace my avoidant behaviors back to their roots, showing me how they’d served me as a child but were now holding me back. Together, we worked on building healthier ways of relating to others. One of the biggest lessons was learning to sit with the discomfort of vulnerability. Opening up about my fears, my needs, and my emotions didn’t come naturally and was hard work, but it was worth it.

I began to engage my shadow side where I regulated myself with things within my control- addictions (pornography, sex, gambling, alcohol and drugs, eating, numbing through video games and constant scrolling, excessively exercising, shopping etc.), external appearances and success.  I learned that the steady flow of acceptance and validation I got from my career was keeping me from engaging with myself and others at a deeper level. I started practicing being present, even when it felt easier to shut down or withdraw. I began to be curious about my internal experiences. I realized that sometimes I withdraw to punish my partner in relationships for their behavior that felt threatening to me. I learned to recognize when my instinct to pull away was about fear rather than genuine incompatibility. And slowly, I began to trust that intimacy didn’t have to mean losing myself.

For those who resonate with avoidant attachment, there is hope! Healing doesn’t happen overnight, but it’s absolutely possible. The key is self-awareness, a willingness to confront past wounds, and the courage to try something different. Surround yourself with people who respect your boundaries but also encourage you to grow. Seek therapy or other forms of support. And most importantly, be patient with yourself. 

Today, I’m still a work in progress. There are moments when my old patterns creep back in, tempting me to retreat into my shell. But I’ve learned to respond vs. react-Now I can pause, reflect, and choose a different path. The journey toward secure attachment isn’t linear, but every step is worth it. Because on the other side of avoidance lies the possibility of deeper, more meaningful connections—both with others and with myself.