The Shame That Makes Us Pull Away from the People We Care About
Not everyone withdraws from love because they don’t care.
In fact, some of the people who love the deepest are the ones who retreat the quickest.
From the outside, it can look confusing:
Why chase connection one moment, then go quiet the next?
Why long for closeness, but panic when it arrives?
It looks like contradiction.
But underneath, it’s something much more tender:
Shame.
Not the loud kind.
Not the kind that makes someone hang their head.
The quiet kind.
The kind that lives under the skin and whispers:
“If someone really knows me, they won’t stay.”
Where This Begins
For many, this belief wasn’t spoken.
It was learned through experience — early, before words were even formed.
Maybe love had to be:
earned
managed
performed for
tiptoed around
held together by becoming “the strong one”
Maybe feelings weren’t welcomed.
Maybe needs were “too much.”
Maybe vulnerability led to distance, dismissal, or shame.
A child in that environment makes a very intelligent conclusion:
“To keep love, I must hide the parts of me that could cost it.”
And once that belief settles in the nervous system, it doesn’t matter what we logically know as adults.
The body remembers.
How This Shows Up in Relationships Later
When love feels far away, the fear is losing it.
So the body moves closer.
Tries harder.
Holds on.
But when love feels close, steady, warm, and real?
Another fear appears:
The fear of being truly seen.
Because if someone sees you…
with your fears
your softness
your flaws
your uncertainty
your past
…then they have the power to leave you for who you actually are.
So the body pulls away to protect the heart.
Not because love feels wrong —
but because being known feels dangerous.
It Looks Like This:
Going quiet when things get intimate
Saying “I’m fine” even when breaking inside
Feeling numb when someone expresses love
Blacking out or dissociating during emotional overwhelm
Choosing people who are unavailable (because it feels safer)
Or leaving the ones who are stable, kind, and present
On the surface, it looks like avoidance.
Underneath, it is fear of exposure.
Not fear of the other person —
fear of being seen in your humanity.
This Isn’t Self-Sabotage
It’s self-protection.
The nervous system is trying to prevent the pain it remembers:
The pain of being rejected as you are.
It’s easier, in those moments, to withdraw before someone sees the parts of you you learned to hide.
But here’s the quiet truth:
The parts you’re afraid someone will leave you for…
are the parts that need love most.
What Healing Looks Like
Healing isn’t forcing yourself to stay close.
Healing isn’t telling yourself to “stop running.”
Healing begins with noticing:
“I’m pulling away because I’m afraid of being seen.”
Not shaming it.
Not judging it.
Just recognising it.
The nervous system learned to protect you.
It did a good job.
It kept you alive — emotionally and otherwise.
Now, the work is slow and gentle:
Letting one person see 1% more
Allowing yourself to feel, without disappearing into your head
Learning safety in tiny doses, not dramatic leaps
Closeness becomes possible again —
not through force
but through warm, consistent, compassionate presence.
Your heart wasn’t wrong.
It was careful.
And now it is learning that love can be something new:
Not earned.
Not performed.
Not proven.
Simply met.
Held.
Shared.
Seen — and still safe.
How to Stay Present When Closeness Feels Overwhelming
1) A One-Minute Pause
When you feel yourself pulling away:
Place your feet on the floor.
Unclench your jaw.
Exhale slower than you inhale.
Then ask yourself quietly:
“Is my distance coming from fear, or from preference?”
Just noticing changes everything.
2) Speak to the Part That’s Scared
Imagine the part of you that learned to protect your heart.
It is not weak. It is young.
Say gently inside:
“You don’t have to earn love.”
“You are allowed to be seen.”
“We can stay here for 10 more seconds. That’s enough.”
You are not forcing closeness.
You are letting yourself stay present.
3) If Numbness or Shutdown Starts
Use the body to stay here:
Feel your feet
Loosen the jaw
Exhale slowly
Put a hand on your chest or ribs
Whisper internally:
“I don’t have to disappear.”
Your body is not the enemy.
It is trying to keep you safe in the only way it learned.
Now you are teaching it another way.
You Are Not “Too Much.” You Are Not “Hard to Love.”
You are someone who learned to love in conditions where love felt uncertain.
Your nervous system adapted to survive.
Now, you are learning how to live — not just protect.
There is nothing wrong with your heart.
It has been brave for a very long time.
And it is still here, trying.
That deserves gentleness.
Not judgement.
