From Avoidance to Desire

Aug 31

Written By Coreen Ruiz

Avoidance has a shape. It sits in the body like tension in the throat, like a quiet ache in the chest.

For years, I thought it was protection. But really, it was fear.

I learned to leave before I was left.
To disappear when something felt too vulnerable, too unknown, even too good.

And for a long time, I called it strength.
But if I’m being honest with myself now, it was fear.

Fear of being misunderstood.
Fear of being too much.
Fear of being not enough.

Fear that if I showed someone the softest parts of me, they’d flinch and I’d never recover.

So I stayed silent.
I stayed distant.
I stayed in control.

Until all I had left was longing and a wall I couldn’t see over.

This Pattern Didn’t Start With Me

Avoidance runs in my lineage. An inherited silence, passed down like an heirloom none of us asked for.

I saw it in the people who raised me - in the ways they handled love, guilt, and grief.
People who looked at the phone, wanting to reach out, but never did.
People who loved quietly from a distance and thought that was enough.

Maybe they were doing the best they could.
But I see now how much it cost them.
And how much it cost me.

Because I’ve done it too.
I’ve walked away from people I loved, not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t know how to stay when it felt uncertain.

I thought if I left on my own terms, I’d be safe from the pain.
But grief always finds a way in.

Avoidance Isn’t Neutral, It’s Self-Abandonment

It’s easy to call something a boundary when it’s actually a wall.
To tell yourself, “I just need space,” when really, you need to be seen.
To say, “They weren’t trying either,” instead of admitting you were scared to be vulnerable.

I’ve spent so long mistaking emotional distance for maturity.
But real growth requires presence.
Real healing asks us to stay.

To sit in discomfort without reaching for the exit.
To say what we mean before it’s too late.
To choose connection, even when it feels terrifying.