"I'm a Proud Avoidant" — The Words That Should Never Be a Badge of Honor

Someone shared a piece of her story with me.

Her avoidant told her, with no hesitation, no irony, and no shame:

"I'm a proud avoidant."

Those four words have echoed in my mind ever since. They weren’t said in a moment of self-awareness or accountability. They were said like a joke—like emotional detachment was something to celebrate. Like hurting someone who just wanted connection was a game.

Avoidant Attachment Is Not a Personality

Avoidant attachment is not something to be proud of.

It’s not a flex. It’s not a personality quirk. It’s not a convenient excuse to keep people at arm’s length.

Avoidance is pain in disguise.

It’s the armor you built when closeness felt dangerous. It’s the survival strategy you picked up when love came with strings, conditions, or punishment. It’s the wall you built because vulnerability once cost you more than you could bear.

And sure, those walls may have protected you once. But if you're still living inside them as an adult, chances are you're not just protecting yourself anymore.

You're pushing people away who want to love you. You're hurting the very hearts you secretly wish you could hold.

When Pride Replaces Accountability

When we start confusing distance with strength and numbness with control, we don’t just isolate ourselves—we cause collateral damage. We break trust. We silence connection. We turn people into ghosts before they ever had the chance to stay.

Avoidants aren’t heartless. But the impact is still real.

I know, because I used to be one. And I’m not proud of it.

I made people question their worth because I didn’t know how to sit with my own wounds. I withheld. I shut down. I ran—because running felt safer than risking.

But one day, I had to ask myself:

What’s really worth protecting—my pride, or the people I say I care about?

The Moment Healing Begins

Healing began when I stopped hiding behind the label. When I stopped justifying the hurt I caused by calling it independence. When I started owning the fact that detachment was no longer survival—it was sabotage.

I'm not proud I was avoidant.

But I am proud I chose to heal.

Not just to stop the pain.But to stop passing it on.

Because true strength is showing up.

Staying when it’s uncomfortable.

Unlearning what pain taught you—and letting love teach you something new.

A Word for Both Sides

If someone ever told you that you were too much, or made you feel like needing closeness was a flaw, please hear this:

You weren’t the problem.

You were just trying to love someone who hadn’t yet learned how to stay.

And if you’ve been the one who couldn’t stay: It’s never too late to begin again.

Avoidant attachment isn’t your identity. It’s your starting point.

And healing? Healing is the destination.

Let’s stop glorifying disconnection.Let’s start honoring the courage it takes to stay.

If this resonated with you, whether you're healing from avoidant patterns or from loving someone who carried them, you're not alone.

Healing Avoidant is a space for honesty, accountability, and growth.

Stick around. We're learning to stay together.