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The Reason They’re Pushing You Away Is Not Because They Need Your "Help"The Reason They’re Pushing You Away Is Not Because They Need Your "Help"">

The Reason They’re Pushing You Away Is Not Because They Need Your "Help"

Irina Zhuravleva
por 
Irina Zhuravleva, 
 Soulmatcher
10 minutos de lectura
Blog
noviembre 05, 2025

When your attachment is anxious and insecure, and a partner tells you, “I don’t want to be with you anymore,” yet you cling more tightly, you’re caught in a pattern of distorted thinking. If you’ve ever behaved like that — and many of us have — you know it’s unhealthy. Fear of abandonment can drive you to beg or abase yourself, and then you try to justify it by telling yourself comforting stories: “I’m not clinging to someone who doesn’t want me; I’m trying to help them. I’m such a kind, supportive person.” Often the person who does this is a woman, but in this instance the writer is a man, who calls himself Aaron. He asks, “Can you shed light on this breakup? What am I missing?” Aaron describes his situation: “I dated an incredible 38-year-old woman; I’m 33. We were together on and off for a little over two years. Most of the breakups were her leaving and then returning—sometimes after I chased her, sometimes of her own accord. I thought I was being patient and supportive, but every reunion started well and then suddenly faltered. She has a diagnosis of complex PTSD from childhood trauma and prior relationships with narcissistic partners. Knowing that, I tried to be extra cautious. We shared a deep connection and even made plans for the future. For the first time in both our dating histories, we were also best friends. She told me no one had ever shown her respect and love like I did. Then she would flip and accuse me of inconsistency. Looking back, I suspect part of the issue was that I felt like I was guessing how to be, and we didn’t communicate our needs enough. She wasn’t pursuing treatment for her trauma and tended to overbook herself. She had little support and isolated, with no close friends or family—something I later learned was related to her CPTSD. She refused to do therapy with me to figure things out, saying I should just listen and a therapist would only repeat that. I tried to listen, but I constantly felt like I missed something and came up short. I knew I wasn’t perfect, which is why I suggested couples therapy so we could work through this. This time it seems final, and I’m devastated. She said I wasn’t emotionally available—an issue that kept recurring—and whenever I asked what I could do specifically to make her feel safe, she said I should already know because it was the bare minimum. It’s been six months since the breakup—the longest stretch apart. After she told me to collect my things from a box on the porch, I took that as the end and blocked her on social media because I was emotionally spent and couldn’t bear to see her. I heard through a mutual friend who asked what happened that she reacted to that by posting on social media. I used to pray for protection, but I never imagined I was dating the weapon formed against me. I genuinely love this woman and was trying so hard to be there, but I know this dynamic isn’t healthy. I found myself apologizing without understanding what I’d done wrong. I feel awful for not knowing how she needed me to show up. Even now, if she reached out needing help I’d drop everything to go. I lost my best friend and partner, and it hurts so much. I want to learn and grow from this, thank you for your insight.” This is a painful, complicated situation. First, stop telling yourself that the central problem was that you failed to do something specific to fix her. You didn’t miss a magical action that would have saved the relationship. You can’t repair another person’s internal wounds for them. The painful truth here, as difficult as it is to accept, is that she wasn’t that into you. That reality is often hard to face, so your mind tries to reframe it as a communication problem you could have solved. But her repeated departures communicate exactly what she felt: she left multiple times. From what you described, there isn’t strong evidence she was truly committed or willing to work through hardship alongside you. You were trapped in a people-pleasing loop: trying desperately to make her happy and fix things for her. That tendency to fawn—constantly seeking approval and asking, “What can I do to make this right?”—is not the same as healthy love. It becomes a kind of self-erasure rather than genuine support. If she has untreated complex PTSD, it’s likely she was focused inward on survival and looking out for herself in ways that made it hard for her to consider the consequences of her actions on you. That doesn’t make her a bad person; it often means she’s not in a place to be fully present for someone else. The remedy isn’t for you to give more of yourself to compensate; it’s for her to work on her healing. You may also need more time to work on yourself. Love is not about endlessly doing whatever you imagine the other person wants. That is fawning, not love. Real love is a commitment to be with someone as they grow, accepting them while also maintaining your own limits. Sometimes you decide you cannot accept someone’s patterns and that’s what a breakup is for. When someone repeatedly leaves, it’s not reasonable to keep assuming the fix is on your end. Even if there was love, it sounds like her love was largely self-oriented at the moment, and she wasn’t capable of meeting you emotionally. In turn, your pattern of clinging kept you from being fully present and discerning whether the relationship was healthy. Traumatized people often find huge solace simply in having someone close; that comfort can feel like it resolves everything briefly, but it doesn’t heal core wounds. Genuine partnership involves mutual care—you support each other, make sacrifices when necessary, and work toward each other’s wellbeing. That’s love as action. Sacrificing your needs endlessly to try to guess what the other wants is not a sustainable path. The internal loop—she treats me badly, therefore I must have done something wrong—keeps you stuck. That reasoning doesn’t hold up. What attracts people is not submissiveness but self-respect. Boundaries and a refusal to be used make someone more desirable. So focus on becoming the kind of person who has healthy limits and self-regard. The healing work you need now is for yourself: learn to recognize when someone is treating you well and when they are not, and defend your emotional boundaries instead of absorbing mistreatment. While you’re single, invest in becoming a stronger partner—someone who offers care without losing themselves in people-pleasing. If you want guidance on traits to look for in a healthy partner, there’s a list available for download—you can get it for free right here. [Music]

Practical steps to heal and grow after this kind of relationship

How to spot healthier partners and avoid repeating the cycle

How to spot healthier partners and avoid repeating the cycle

Short exercises to practice now

When to consider reconnection (if ever)

Reconnection is only reasonable if there is clear, demonstrated change from the other person: consistent therapy and insight, concrete behavioral changes over months, and mutual willingness to do couples work. Both partners must be emotionally available and accountable. If you consider reconnecting, set concrete parameters (e.g., time-limited probation, transparency about therapy, and measurable behavior changes) and keep your own support system and therapist involved.

Final note

This loss can become a turning point if you use it to learn how to love in a way that preserves your dignity and sense of self. You won’t “fix” someone else by sacrificing yourself—healing and safety come from mutual work and respect. Practice compassion for yourself without excusing patterns that hurt you. Over time, with clearer boundaries and more emotional self-regulation, you’ll attract partners who reciprocate rather than drain you.

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