Calling Out a Dismissive Avoidant: Why You’ll Get Gaslit!

Ah, the dismissive avoidant! A whole species unto themselves!

They strut about pretending to be independent, self-sufficient and ever so strong, when in reality they’re terrified of the one thing that makes relationships work: emotional intimacy.

They want connection, but the moment vulnerability shows up, they bolt faster than you can say commitment issues.

Why They Leg It When Things Get Real

Here’s the truth: dismissive avoidants do want closeness, but only in theory. In practice, intimacy feels like being asked to walk barefoot across hot coals—they’ll do anything to avoid it.

The problem is, they’re usually blissfully unaware that they even have an issue. Everything seems fine—until you ask them to open up emotionally. Then it all kicks off. That’s when they either vanish, deflect, or suddenly develop the memory of a goldfish.

Breadcrumbs, Anyone?

After disappearing, they’ll often send the odd little message—“Hey, how are you?” or some other meaningless drivel.

These breadcrumbs aren’t about connection; they’re about checking you’re still an option. Cruel? Absolutely. Effective? Unfortunately, yes.

But once you stop romanticising them as strong and mysterious and instead see them for what they are—damaged, fragile, and emotionally constipated—the illusion shatters.

Calling Them Out (Spoiler: It Doesn’t End Well)

Now, I’ve tested this three times in my own life. And let me tell you: it blew up every single time 🤯.

• One ghosted me as if I’d asked them to donate a kidney.

  
  

• One snapped, “How DARE you!” like I’d just insulted the Queen.

  
  

• And one? Full meltdown. Screamed blue murder. Truly Shakespearean stuff.

  
  

Do you see the common thread? Not one of them paused for self-reflection. Not one thought, “Hmm, maybe I am a bit avoidant.” Oh no, far easier to either vanish or make you the villain of the piece.

Watching From the Cheap Seats

So what’s left? Pity, really. All three are still out there, stumbling through life, convinced they’re fine, while steadily sliding into a kind of slow-motion hell.

And me? I’m just watching from the cheap seats. As Nietzsche once said, sometimes you’ve got to hope for suffering, pain and misery—because maybe, just maybe, hitting rock bottom will finally nudge them into therapy. Until then, popcorn at the ready.

The Lesson (For You, Not Them)

Here’s the bit you actually need to hear: you cannot save a dismissive avoidant. You cannot love them into self-awareness. You cannot explain them into healing.

All you can do is let go. Let them carry on avoiding, dismissing, and breadcrumbing their way through life. Their wounds are theirs to face—not yours to fix.

And the moment you stop taking it personally, you’ll see it for what it is... and (just like Kierkegaard) you'll open your eyes and laugh.

TR