Lately, I’m being inundated with information on attachment styles—which I have heard described as the roadmap we use when we feel disconnected from a person—and interpersonal neurobiology, which explores what happens in the brain in the context of relationships. What’s the common theme between them? Connection.
Have you ever played with magnets? They have an interesting relationship with other magnets. Their two poles will either attract or repel other magnets nearby, depending on how they’re aligned. Opposite poles (North and South) are drawn together, while similar poles push apart.
This concept is often used to describe people and relationships. You’ve likely heard the phrase “magnetic personality,” referring to some charismatic person—someone people naturally gravitate toward, like a magnet. But here’s the thing about magnets: they don’t always attract. Sometimes, they repel.
Now, imagine a magnet flipping over and over, like a coin, constantly shifting from pulling close to pushing away. That’s what relationships often feel like for someone with a disorganized attachment style—a relentless cycle of craving connection, intimacy, and closeness, only to be overwhelmed and suddenly feel the need to push them away.
This may come as a surprise to those who know me, but this tension describes the struggle I feel every day in my relationships—even with those closest to me. I long for intimacy and connection, but when I start to get near it, fear takes over. Fear of judgment. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of being hurt. So, I pull back. I isolate. I retreat. And in the quiet, shame creeps in and I start to blame myself.
“Why can’t you just let people in?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Are you even deserving of real, lasting relationships?”
As I write this, I’m reminded of the words from a Scripture I read at a wedding recently: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” —1 John 4:18
What this tells me is that if I love the people in my life, I have to fight back against those fears.
I’ve been doing EMDR therapy to process some of the deep wounds where some of these fears originate, but it’s still incredibly hard. I know healing doesn’t happen overnight. It’s messy, slow, and often painful. But it is worth it.
By recognizing the patterns in my attachment style, I’m beginning to break free from them. Slowly but surely, I’m learning to give myself grace, to remind myself that my worth isn’t tied to my struggles, and to accept the fact that I don’t have to be perfect.
For those stuck in this dance of push and pull, know that you’re not alone. Healing is possible, even in the messiness. And while the process may feel slow, there is hope to be found in the journey.
I’m holding onto that hope as I continue learning to create healthier connections—with myself, with others, and with God.
“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18 CSB)
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