Concluded Thoughts

I’ve always considered myself self-aware (and not to toot my own horn, but my therapist agrees). When I decided to start dating again after three years of being on my own, I gained a practical understanding of how my attachment style influences my relationships. Although I now identify as secure-avoidant, I wasn’t always that way—I used to have a disorganized attachment style. The beauty about maturing is that it means your attachment style matures alongside your personal growth. I spent my single years truly learning how to embody secure attachment style.

Here’s a quick overview of the four main attachment styles:

1. Secure: A stable and trusting bond where individuals feel comfortable depending on others and being depended on.
2. Anxious: A style marked by a constant worry about being abandoned or unloved, leading to clinginess and heightened sensitivity to relationship cues.
3. Avoidant: A pattern characterized by discomfort with closeness and intimacy, where individuals often prioritize independence and emotional distance.
4. Disorganized: A response marked by a lack of a clear strategy for dealing with stress in relationships, often resulting in unpredictable and contradictory behaviors.

Last year, I embarked on an experiment that led to an experience entirely new to me. This wasn’t just “for the plot” or for the sake of a dramatic story—I was testing my ability to immerse myself in a different attachment dynamic. I wondered if I was as secure as I had believed.

I met a gentleman with whom I shared great compatibility. We enjoyed each other’s company and dated for several months. Fast forward four months, and while society might say I should have asked the infamous “What are we?” question by month two if I were dating with purpose, I wasn’t quite there. I’ve never struggled with dating intentionally, but I also haven’t felt ready to fully commit. I value courtship over casual dating, so until the feeling of marriage is mutual, I prefer to take things slowly.

Instead of the conventional question, we ended up having a long conversation about attachment styles. He mentioned that he considers himself secure—or “human secure,” as he puts it. This conversation made me realize just how similar the physical behaviors of secure and avoidant individuals can appear. Although both might seem distant, the reasons are quite different. A secure person might be distant simply because they’re living their own life, whereas an avoidant person distances themselves as a protective measure against getting too attached. One is driven by self-efficacy, the other by fear.

I complimented him on being “human secure,” acknowledging that his supportive childhood likely played a role in shaping him. I mentioned to him about how many men tend to exhibit more avoidant attachment styles. A phenomenon influenced by societal and gender norms. I wasn’t ready to explain why, but with him my “empty yaps” are always challenged. In reality there isn’t a significant correlation between attachment styles and gender. Recalling his healthy upbringing made me reflect on my own. I was—and still am—loved by my parents. However, they were never truly present enough for me to feel secure. I knew I could rely on them for survival, but when it came to emotional support, my avoidant tendencies began to take root. Vulnerability and open expression, free of judgment, were unfamiliar to me.

Although I have a cornucopia of love and reverence for my parents, my inner child still longs for emotional intimacy—but now, from both my partner and myself. The weight that holds me back from forming a genuine emotional connection is my fear—fear of reaching that level of intimacy and ultimately sabotaging it.

Stepping into the unknown feels both terrifying and unpredictable. The raw vulnerability it demands makes the younger version of me retreat, curling into a ball in a safe corner—free from judgment, yet still yearning for the fundamental essence of love.

This exploration into attachment styles not only deepened my understanding of myself but also highlighted the subtle differences between similar behaviors. A reminder that what we see on the surface can often mask a complex psychological landscape.