Me. The Anxious-Avoidant.

Attachment theory is brutal. Taking a step back and looking at my life is hard work. Admitting that I was never able to count on my parents, that I avoided counting on anyone, trying to make myself count on people, and then putting myself out there to potentially be rejected, if only through the failure of someone to do what I’m counting on them to do. It’s just rough.

But to be clear, I do not accept avoidance over intimacy as an acceptable behavior. And it will not continue.

But it’s worth it. The connections we have with other people are critical in life. They make us better people. They give us a sense of being. We have a visceral need for others. And not having a variety of different connections makes us reliant, if not needy, of the connections we do have.

I denied that for a long time. I thought I had conquered my traumas. But I had only begun and the unresolved feelings would their way into my very being with serpentine tails to suffocate my relationships.

Why had I found myself here? Alone again… Because I had not been honest and so open. Why had I not been open? Because I didn’t feel I could rely on another person. Why couldn’t I rely on another person? Because I had been failed so many times before. Why was I failed? Because I put myself in a position to fail. Why? Because my parents had failed me. And so many…