Attachment and Survival

Have you ever waited for a text back like your life depended on it?

If you’re anxiously attached, this is a very normal response. The constant phone-checking, the inability to concentrate on anything else, the panic – these are all strategies for survival.

Waiting to reconnect feels like your life depends on it because at some point, your life did depend on it. As children, we needed adults – for food, shelter, care, and importantly, love and attention.

If we couldn’t consistently rely on our caregivers for these things (say they physically walked out the door or told us off for having feelings), then we developed ways to cope. We decided that our main strategy for survival would be to reach for more (anxious), to withdraw (avoidant), or to do both (disorganised/fearful-avoidant).

This was very smart! But these adaptations are now outdated, and will keep causing pain in our adult relationships unless we do something to rewire our systems.

The Anxious-Attachment System

You might know that the pioneers of attachment theory in the 1960s, John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth, devised three styles of attaching to our caregivers:
1. Anxious
2. Avoidant
3. Secure.

A fourth category, disorganised, was added in 1986.

In this article we’re focusing on the anxious-attachment style, which comes about when our caregivers attended to our needs in an inconsistent way: sometimes providing connection, sometimes not.

Those who experienced this inconsistency (me included) are frightened of being abandoned, and will do everything in their power to prevent it. Having not received consistent care and attention, they believe, deep down: I am unlovable.

If you’re anxiously attached, you may distort the importance of being in a romantic relationship. You may be fine when you’re single (happy with hobbies and friends), then lose yourself in partnership. You may believe that one person can ‘fix’ or ‘complete’ you; their existence is proof that you’re lovable.

It’s worth saying that these patterns and beliefs are completely understandable given your upbringing. But they’re risky. When a new lover or long-term partner starts to pull away, you may feel your whole being become shaky.

What happens inside you when someone appears to pull away?

If you’re anxiously attached, at the slightest hint of abandonment, your body goes into a state of physical distress.

It could be anything from a partner’s subtle change of mood to a delayed response from a new love interest. In any case, your sympathetic nervous system gets activated, and you go into ‘fight or flight’. Part of your brain genuinely believes you might die. Your breathing speeds up, your pupils dilate, and your muscles tense.

And of course, as these things tend to go, you do something you regret.

That’s because when we’re triggered, we act without thinking (literally… our pre-frontal cortex, the part of our brain in control of rational thoughts, goes offline). Then later on, when we’ve calmed down, we realise it wasn’t so wise to have sent seven texts in a row or that three-page-long email with bolded and numbered headings (a personal favourite of mine).

You might be wondering… Is there a better way?

How to Self-Soothe

It’s perfectly normal to want someone’s reassurance when you’re afraid of being abandoned. And while there’s nothing wrong with asking for it, real magic can happen when you wait.

If you can be with yourself, and find within you the love and attention you crave, then real healing is possible. Otherwise, you’ll stay stuck seeking it from the outside world and being disillusioned (we simply cannot control what other people do – it’s impossible).

So, here are my tips for turning towards yourself, next time your anxiety gets triggered:

1. Stop what you’re doing.

Put the phone in another room. Do not text when you’re triggered, my therapist has drummed into my consciousness. If you’re physically with the other person, ask for space – go to a separate room or go outside for a walk.

2. Slow down your breath and expend the extra energy.

Take deep breaths (e.g. 4 count inhale, 8 count exhale). Our nervous systems need to get back to ‘rest and digest’ (the parasympathetic system) so we can think clearly. If you feel jittery, go for a walk, run, or jump up and down to release the energy; it needs to get out of your system to complete the stress cycle (and not get stuck).

3. Get in touch with the underlying feeling.

What’s going on underneath the anxiety? Try and understand what’s happening for the child in you. Maybe you feel sad, lost, hopeless, lonely, misunderstood, or ashamed. Check, what are you believing? It might be some version of: I don’t matter, I’m not good enough, I’m not loveable, I won’t be okay.

4. Ask your younger self, what do you need?

Locate what age, roughly, you felt a similar feeling strongly. Maybe a scenario comes to mind. Try and bring your younger self into your imagination – what do they look like? what are they wearing? where exactly are they? Then, ask them what they need. A hug? To be told they’re okay? To be seen and understood? Wait patiently, and see what naturally comes.

5. Try and give it to your younger self.

It doesn’t always work, and you might not always be in the mood for it, but try and give yourself what you need. You may have models of compassion, if not your parents then other caring adults (a grandparent? a teacher? a therapist? a mentor or friend?), to draw loving energy from. You can wrap your arms around your little self and hold you – if they want it. You can say “I know, darling, you’re feeling very alone right now, I’m so sorry this is happening”.

Because the brain can create new pathways (neuroplasticity), we can provide ourselves with corrective experiences, and transform the pain living in these old wounds. The original memories of abandonment begin to lose their charge, and over time you might be triggered less, or not go so quickly to such dark places.

But what about co-regulation?

It’s great if you have someone nearby to give you a hug or say comforting words (humans are biologically wired to connect, after all). But if you need someone else to regulate your nervous system (like as a child, you needed your mother), you can’t rely on returning to a grounded state, 10 times out of 10. I believe in the beauty of developing skills for self-soothing, so you can give yourself what you’ve always longed for, anytime, anywhere, and release others from a responsibility to ‘heal’ you.

My own journey and your invitation

I’m fascinated by attachment because I’m my own test subject, and I astonish myself sometimes when my fear of abandonment gets triggered. One moment I’ll be my calm, intelligent, rational adult self, writing emails and buying groceries, and the next moment I’ll be whimpering on the floor in fetal position, feeling like I’m going to die.

Each time I get triggered, though it’s incredibly inconvenient (I have an essay to write!), I do thank the universe for supplying me with the material I need to heal. If these trauma responses didn’t come up to be seen, they’d never be put to rest.

So I encourage you, in the middle of your pain, to know that something profound is happening – you are being invited to heal. You can say “thank you, not now” (totally fine) or you can reach out your hands, cautiously but confidently, and say the magic words: “I accept”.

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