In the world of modern relationships and attachment theory, we’re more aware than ever of how childhood wounds show up in our adult connections. That’s a beautiful thing. But sometimes, this new language creates confusion—or worse, can be used to pressure one partner into self-abandonment in the name of “intimacy.”
I want to speak to a particular experience that’s often misunderstood: when someone in a relationship asks for space, sets boundaries, or refuses to take full responsibility for their partner’s emotional regulation, and in return, they’re accused of not being “emotionally available.”
Let’s slow that down.
The Demand to Be Someone’s Healing
It’s not uncommon to hear something like this in a relationship:
“I feel abandoned when you pull away. If you loved me, you wouldn’t need space. I need you to stay, show up, reassure me—always.”
There’s a vulnerability in this. A plea. Sometimes even a panic. But sometimes—embedded in that plea—is something else: a demand.
A demand that says:
“I don’t want to feel this; I want you to make sure I never feel this.”
That might not be what’s consciously intended, but it’s often the underlying energy. And it puts the other partner—especially one who values individual integrity, emotional regulation practices, or conscious inner child work—in a painful bind. Because if they don’t show up the way their partner wants, they’re framed as emotionally withholding, avoidant, or afraid of intimacy.
It is understandable to come to this conclusion, but I question if it a false choice.
Boundaries Are Not a Lack of Love
Here’s the truth:
- Taking space doesn’t mean you don’t care.
- Refusing to be someone’s emotional crutch doesn’t mean you’re avoidant.
- Saying no to coercive closeness is not a rejection of intimacy.
Sometimes, these are the most loving acts possible, because they come from a place of wanting to meet the other person honestly, without collapsing your own center in the process.
Real intimacy includes boundaries and allows space for difference, selfhood, and the discomfort of not being everything to someone else.
What True Secure Attachment Looks Like
A securely attached person isn’t someone who never pulls away. It’s someone who can say:
“I love you, and I need time to process.”
“I’m here, but I’m not here to save you.”
“I won’t abandon myself in order to soothe you.”
Secure attachment is certainly about closeness, but not constant closeness. It’s about mutual safety, emotional responsibility, and trust that the relationship can hold space for both connection and autonomy.
When the Wound Becomes a Weapon
It becomes a problem when one partner says:
“I I want you to keep me from ever feeling this pain.”
That’s not intimacy, but outsourcing healing.
And when attachment theory is used to justify that dynamic—when the one asking for space is labeled as emotionally closed or broken—it weaponizes the very tools that were meant to help us connect more compassionately.
The Invitation Forward
If you find yourself in this dynamic, either as the person being asked to carry someone else’s pain, or as the person fearing abandonment—there could be room for reflection. And of course, this isn’t for everyone.
Ask:
- Are we both committed to our own healing journeys?
- Is closeness being used to avoid inner work?
- Is space being used to protect something sacred, or to avoid vulnerability?
And most importantly:
Is this relationship a container for mutual growth—or is one of us disappearing to keep the other from falling apart?
We all deserve love that honors our wounds, because relationship is about mutual healing, but it can also challenge us to take responsibility for them.
Intimacy isn’t just about staying close.
It’s about staying true.
