The Fearful-Avoidant Attachment Type in Relationships
Well hurray for me, I’m the worst of them all.
I used to think the concept of “Attachment Styles” was hippie nonsense.
And, as with much of my preconceived notions, I was wrong.
If you’ve never heard about Attachment Styles, I highly recommend starting with the book Attached by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller. Alternatively, Google the shit out of the subject.
The gist is that based on our childhood (where most of our fucked up ways of thinking stem from), we have developed a way that we “attach” to others in romantic relationships.
If you’re an Anxious type, you’re of the “oh my God, I love you, don’t leave me, why didn’t you text me, you didn’t give me a hug, are you cheating on me, you’re too far apart on the couch, are you trying to break up with me?” nature.
If you’re an Avoidant type, you’re of the “pfft, I don’t need to date, ugh this person is so clingy, she wants to spend both Friday and Saturday night with me which is way too much, things were cool until he gave me flowers so I’m going to peace out” nature.
There are the Stable types, which are the ones who have their shit together emotionally and are capable of forming healthy bonds.
But then there’s the fourth type: the Anxious-Avoidant, aka the Fearful-Avoidant, aka the Disorganized attachment type.
From Melodywright.com:
Disorganized attachment is the most intense of the four attachment styles, owing to the dire circumstances in which it develops. Disorganized attachment develops when a child experiences abuse, trauma, or chaos in the home. As a result, they learn to fear their caregivers and have no “secure base” to turn to for consistent support, emotional safety, and comfort.
People with a disorganized attachment style oscillate between the basic human need for belonging and their drive for survival. Like those with an anxious attachment style, people with a disorganized attachment style experience lots of anxiety in relationships, have an extreme need for closeness, and fear rejection by their partners.
Yay for me. I’ve got the worst of them all.
Once you’ve narrowed down your attachment type, look back at prior relationships and audit them for your behaviors within them.
On the surface, I was avoidant with all my relationships. I tend to keep people at arm’s reach. I don’t even assume anyone likes me unless it’s blatantly called out (which may also be from the autism). My default mode is to never assume anyone is hitting on me.
When a guy becomes interested in me, I begin looking for all the flaws. I get irritated by what I perceive as their neediness. I’ll never be the type to say, “Oh you want to hang out on Saturday? Let me check with my boyfriend,” as if a significant other gets higher priority on weekends than friends.
Being honest with myself, it’s probably why I suggested to Jon that we should break up. We became intensely connected and when it was clear that his soon-to-be-ex-wife might catch on, I immediately flipped and suggested that we should break up to end our marriages the proper way. At the time, it was rational. But looking back, I wanted to maintain control of the breakup instead of letting someone else control it; my reaction was to push him away, not bring him closer.
Here’s where it gets dicey: I become anxious about losing the other person.
I act super cool. Like, “Oh you’re hanging out with that hot chick? Nah, I’m secure and confident with that,” when in reality, I’m freaking the fuck out. I’ll work out like crazy, starve myself, make sure I have my nails perfectly done, and panic if an extra eyebrow hair isn’t tweezed.
I go into overdrive Perfection Mode because I believe that any flaws will be an immediate reason to leave me. My anxiety from it consumes me.
When I was dating then-boyfriend-turned-husband Joseph, he commented about me eating cake for dinner. On my small frame, I gained a lot of weight when moving to the US because food portions were bigger. And by “a lot”, I mean, fifteen pounds.
I panicked that he wasn’t going to be attracted to me (oh, the irony later in the marriage) so I went into overdrive to lose the weight. I went from 120lbs to 83lbs. All because of one passing comment.
Learning about attachment styles and more importantly, that I have a mix of two types, is an ongoing eye-opening experience for me.
When my two major relationships ended last year, I vowed to work on figuring my shit out so that I could be my best self in future relationships. It wasn’t just for the sake of a future partner; I want to feel secure and at peace as well.
Being a Disorganized attachment type is exhausting. It’s a constant tug of war of emotion. A big part of feeling that way is due to low self-esteem. My default thinking is flawlessness is a requirement otherwise someone will leave me.
Fortunately, I’m a pro at over-analyzing my childhood. My dad was absent due to work and his religious causes. He was the dictator and our limited interactions were usually him spewing religious talk or being angry with me. I don’t think he even knows my middle name. I lived at home during college; twice I went on week-long vacations and he didn’t even know that I left the house.
My mother is an emotionally volatile basket case. Her upbringing needs an entire psych team to treat (I have learned to cut her slack on her shitty parenting as a result). She is impatient and flies off the handle easily. She insists things be done exactly her way, she listened to my phone calls, and scoured my room for my diary. My mother controlled everything and when I became a teenager, she couldn’t handle my attempts at independence.
My parents once found my diary. I had written that I didn’t think they loved me because they didn’t attend the Meet the Teacher night at school.
I got in trouble because I dared to speak so poorly of them. In my own private, for-my-eyes-only, journal. Nowhere in their flipping out did they try to convince me that they did indeed love me.
My disobedience growing up was in the form of hitting and slapping. The objects of choice that I remember were brushes, cooking spoons, house slippers, a horsewhip, and my dead grandfather’s lead cane. I got in trouble if I managed to run away in time and get to my bedroom (my brother and I perfected a locking technique with a chair behind the doorknob). When I dared mouth off and tell them it was abuse, my mother explained that abuse was when parents pushed lit cigarettes into children’s arms. Therefore, none of it was abuse since it was for discipline, not for sadistic fun.
Sometimes after my mom cooled down, she’d say from her bedroom, “Jennifer, come in here. Give me a hug. Let’s calm down.” I hated those hugs. I never hugged back. While I get the spirit of her intentions, it always felt like it was more to make her feel better than to resolve things with me.
It’s easy to see why I eventually convinced myself that I don’t need love and yet, I’m terrified to lose it. I could maintain the stance of a stoic rock if I were publicly tortured but I’d also crumble into an emotional puddle once I’m alone.
I think that’s what makes a Disorganized attachment style unique: the Avoidant part is what is seen on the outside and the Anxious part is what’s felt on the inside.
I’m seeing a new guy named Thomas. He surprised me by being great. Unlike my relationship with Marc, I know where I stand with him. He adores me and has been completely upfront about how he has no desire to continue anyone dating else (while also respecting that I’m not so quick to jump headfirst into anything).
After Thomas’ transparency with his intentions, my brain automatically went into Avoidant mode. I picked apart everything. I mean, everything. He has a tiny gap in his two front teeth. His masseter muscles could use some Botox to reduce the size of his lower cheeks. He needs to lose the weight he said he gained during Covid. He must be desperate if he’s willing to jump into things with me (as opposed to thinking that maybe, just maybe, I’m the shiz).
The Avoidant part comes first. Then, if I allow myself to get invested, I’ll switch to Anxious mode. I’ve managed to catch myself while I’m still in that first phase.
I tell myself that I’m being irrational. Thomas said that he’s never weighed this much (he’s not overweight, he just needs to tone up) and he’s in the process of eating better. He texts me constantly, which is something I so badly wanted from Marc and Sean in the past. He thinks he’s the luckiest guy in the world to be out with me, while I spent a year being somewhat hidden in my relationship with Jon. He’s a single dad who has his shit together while still having a crazy “bad boy” past. (He used to do street racing where entire cars were the prize if someone won or lost. He also used to get paid to take other people’s college exams.)
Thomas is both courteous and polite on the outside while being dominant during sex. I was worried that I’d plow over him with my aggressive personality but he knows how to change that dynamic when naked. I don’t laugh as much as I do when I’m with Marc, but I laugh plenty and I enjoy my time with him.
He tells me that I’m beautiful and that I’m a 10. I like kissing him.
In other words, I’m dating a great guy that I would ordinarily keep at arm’s length and then eventually push away. Now that I’m aware of that tendency, I need to make sure as we get closer that I don’t switch to my Anxious mode and fear losing him.
If someone had told me two years ago about attachment styles, I would have rolled my eyes at them. It doesn’t take Einstein to figure out that how our parents treated us affects our adult relationships.
This is one of the few methods I’ve learned to identify the cause, identify my past actions, identify my thought processes, and apply these lessons in a concrete way to my current relationships.
