Wtf Is Avoidant Attachment?
Because apparently we need a term for every way we run from love.
“I would love to read what you think of avoidant attachment in romantic relationships. I recently came to the realisation that I’m very avoidant attachment in relationships/talking stages and I feel like the walls are coming down on me in relationships. I know you aren’t a therapist but I would love to see a piece on your take on avoidant attachment.” - Freya
Immediately, my brain went: Ahhh, yes. Of course. We have a word for it. Avoidant attachment. Because clearly just saying ‘I freak out when things get real’ isn’t dramatic enough.
Can we take a step back? When did dating become an emotional scavenger hunt where every little quirk, hesitation, or instinctual pullback has to have a fancy name? Can’t a person just decide they don’t feel like texting you back today because… they don’t like you? Or maybe they are tired? No, apparently it has to be avoidant attachment, and suddenly, you’re not cold, you’re psychologically complex.
Congratulations!
I have to admit, though, there’s something irresistibly dramatic about it. Because Freya’s confession those walls coming down, that panic when intimacy appears, it reads like a tragic romance novel disguised as a TikTok psychology lesson. And yet, I can’t help rolling my eyes just a little. Because how many times have we all sat there, scrolling, whispering to ourselves: “Oh god, he’s texting back too fast. Run.” And then, like obedient children of the internet, we slap a label on it, soothe our ego with a psychological excuse, and call it self-awareness.
Avoidant attachment: the official stamp of “I can’t handle love properly today, so I’ll intellectualize it instead.”
And yes, maybe sometimes it’s real. Maybe some people genuinely have an innate, brain-wired hesitation around closeness, and it’s been studied and theorized and written about in journals with diagrams that look suspiciously like Ikea instructions for the human heart. But let’s be honest, sometimes it’s just fear. Sometimes it’s just ego. Sometimes it’s just: I don’t want to text him back, and now I need a reason that makes me sound like a tortured genius instead of a lazy millennial.
We live in a world obsessed with naming feelings, as if a label gives it meaning, as if knowing the term for our discomfort absolves us of responsibility. I’m avoidant, we say, with a sly smile, as if it explains everything, excuses everything, elevates us above the common plebeians who are just… messing up dating like humans have always done.
And yet… there is something almost romantic about it. Because avoidance, in all its frustrating, exasperating glory, is born of something deep and true: the knowledge that love hurts, that intimacy terrifies, that feeling too much is risky. There’s a reason a heart trained to protect itself builds walls and retreats. It’s not because it’s cold. It’s because it’s alive. It’s because it wants something so fiercely that the possibility of losing it is unbearable.
I’ve been there. Haven’t we all? Liking someone too much, texting back too quickly, and then stepping back just to see if they’ll chase. Wanting to be close, but panicking when the closeness is real. Feeling desire and fear in the same heartbeat, and thinking: I need a label. I need a word. I need a clever explanation that makes me sound like I know what I’m doing.
But maybe we don’t. Sometimes a hesitation is just a hesitation. Maybe sometimes, not liking someone today is just not liking someone today. Maybe sometimes, the walls aren’t an attachment style, they’re a cry for personal space.
And yet, dating without labels is terrifying. Because without labels, we have to admit our messy truths: that we are sometimes selfish, sometimes cowardly, sometimes impulsive, sometimes vulnerable, sometimes… complicated humans who are figuring out the art of connecting while trying not to lose ourselves. Avoidant attachment, I admit, is a prettier way of saying: I want love, but I’m terrified of it. I want closeness, but I fear the exposure. I want connection, but only if it doesn’t hurt too much. And suddenly, Freya’s DM isn’t a cry for a therapist. It’s a love letter to herself, an attempt to understand why her heart is both eager and resistant at the same time.
And perhaps that’s the real takeaway: the point isn’t to label it, to diagnose it, or to intellectualize it. The point is to notice it. To see the walls. To see the hesitation. To see the pattern and think: Ah, that’s me. That’s how I love. That’s how I protect myself. That’s how I survive and stumble through the chaos of modern romance.
So yes, avoidant attachment is real. Sometimes.
But it’s also… sometimes just a convenient excuse.
A chic, psychological way of saying: I’m complicated, I have standards, and today, I don’t want to deal with you. And honestly? That’s okay. Because the messy, hilarious, terrifying, exhilarating truth of dating in the 21st century is that sometimes the feelings don’t need names. Sometimes the walls don’t need to be deconstructed. Sometimes we just need to let ourselves feel, stumble, pull back, and stumble again.
And if we’re lucky, someone notices. Someone waits. Someone doesn’t panic when we retreat, someone doesn’t roll their eyes when we analyze every text, someone doesn’t get offended when we ask for space and then crave it. And that someone helps us realize that the walls don’t have to be prisons. They can be doorways. Doorways that open to trust, to intimacy, to laughter, to kisses in unexpected moments, to late-night conversations that feel like therapy but aren’t.
So, what even is avoidant attachment? It’s fear and longing entwined. It’s a defense mechanism and a declaration of love. It’s the art of stepping back while secretly hoping someone will step closer. It’s the contradiction of wanting someone fiercely while panicking that wanting them is dangerous. It’s human. It’s ridiculous. It’s heartbreaking. It’s glorious. And above all, it’s real.
And maybe, in a world that demands we label everything, the real lesson is this: let’s be allowed to just feel. Let’s be allowed to hesitate. Let’s be allowed to want and fear, to love and run, to step forward and step back, without turning every heartbeat into a diagnostic. Let’s just be humans.
With love,
Victoria (Your fake Carrie Bradshaw)
Wow you really put our feelings into words perfectly ! I feel so seen! 👏🏽👏🏽