Avoidance Isn’t Strength — It’s Cowardice!

The truth is this: the avoidant isn’t “mysterious,” they’re not “protecting their peace,” they’re not “low drama.”

The avoidant is the asshole who refuses to look at themselves.

While the anxious partner is clawing for understanding, desperate to communicate, aching to heal and repair—what’s the avoidant doing? Running. Dodging. Pretending.

They shut down instead of showing up. They ghost their own feelings, and in doing so, they ghost the relationship.

The anxious one says: I want to fix this. The avoidant says: I’ll just bury myself in work, in distractions, in holidays, in buying crap I don't need, in a half-dead relationship where I don’t have to feel anything real.

And then they wonder why their life feels hollow. They wonder why everything feels like it’s slowing crumbling to dust.

It’s because you can’t keep dismissing reality. You can’t keep running from yourself. You can’t keep avoiding the wreckage you’ve created.

The anxious is seen as “too much,” "confrontational," (and the one I get thrown regularly) - an "overthinker". But at least they’re in the arena—at least they’re willing to fight for love, for connection, for growth.

The avoidant? They’re on the sidelines, arms crossed, pretending they don’t care while everything burns down.

Avoidance isn’t strength. It’s cowardice dressed up as independence.

At some point, the avoidant has to wake up to the fact that avoidance is the thing ruining their life. Until then, they’ll keep hiding behind mediocre partners, jobs they don't even like, and failing connections, all while convincing themselves they’re “fine.”

Spoiler: they’re not fine.

And I don’t just say this in theory—I see it in two people close to me, or who used to be close to me.

I see exactly what they’re doing. And honestly? They’ve tumbled to minus zero in my estimations. They are cowards. They are actors. They may be fooling some people, but they’re not fooling me.

I’m sad for both of them. Both of them I loved, in different ways. But they’re slow-riding into hell, locked in their own avoidance, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Because you can’t save someone who refuses to self-reflect. You can’t drag someone out of denial when they’re clinging to it with both hands.

Both are entrenched in their avoidance, and the only thing left—the only thing possible—is to let go. To step back. To get on with my own life and watch the carnage unfold from the sidelines. Popcorn ready, (trying not to laugh).

Because, in the end, you can’t fight for someone who won’t even show up for themselves, and there's zero point in even trying. You'll either get gaslit by them, ghosted, or screamed at and quite honestly you really don't need that unhealed dysfunctional shit in your life anymore!

So, let go! Breathe in the fresh healed air. Pat yourself on the back for seeing them for exactly what they are and move on!

TR