Avoidants Secretly Juggle Lovers and You're the Backup

Have you ever asked yourself what finally makes an avoidant person stop running? What triggers that moment when they slam the brakes, turn back, and say, “Alright — I’m in. I’ll commit. I’ll be present”? If you’ve ever loved someone who pulls away, you know how draining it is. One minute they’re glued to their phone, making plans and fully engaged; the next, they vanish — they shut down, withdraw, disappear — and you’re left staring at the screen wondering what just changed. The replay in your head starts: Did I text too much? Was I needy? Did I say something wrong? You find yourself Googling attachment styles at 2 a.m., desperate for an explanation. Here’s the blunt reality: it’s not on you to fix them. You can’t love someone into being secure, you can’t talk them into commitment, and there isn’t a perfect message that will miraculously make them show up. Change happens only when they choose it. That’s painful to accept, especially if you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be the exception. Still, avoidance can shift — people do grow — but the pressing question is what finally forces that change. That’s what this is about, and the truth won’t be sugarcoated. By the end, you’ll see clearly what prompts an avoidant to step up and what actions are simply outside your control.

First, let’s define avoidant attachment in simple terms: it’s like being half in a relationship with one foot inside and the other pointed toward the exit. They crave the buzz of connection, but the moment things get intimate, they pull away. That hot-and-cold cycle messes with your head — one night you’re laughing on the couch and imagining a future, and the next they retreat and leave you second-guessing reality. That inconsistency is addictive: you chase the memory of the good times, hoping that if you’re patient or get the tone right, they’ll return. It’s heartbreaking and lonely to be with someone who is only partially present.

Here’s a hard truth about avoidant patterns: you cannot love someone into security. Begging, sacrificing, or desperate attempts to “fix” them only reinforce avoidance. So if you can’t make them change, what actually does? What makes a lifelong runner stop and confront themselves? The answers come from conversations with three people who were once deeply avoidant and later changed — and their turning points surprised me.

The first story is about a former high-school player — the classic charmer who flitted from person to person, never trusted, always the life of the party and impossible to pin down. Everyone assumed he’d never settle. Fast forward a decade: he’s married with kids and is now an attentive, loving father and partner — a complete transformation. When asked why, he didn’t point to soft persistence or being pursued. He said his wife simply didn’t chase him. She saw who he was and refused to be impressed. Earlier partners had forgiven his inconsistency, enabling the behavior; she drew firm boundaries, said no, and rejected him repeatedly until he realized he had to earn her. Becoming a parent then delivered a second, seismic shift — holding his child forced him to confront the need to change. That combination — meeting someone who wouldn’t tolerate his games and the responsibility of fatherhood — compelled him to grow. He admitted that if she had pursued him like others did, he never would have changed. The lesson: chasing an avoidant usually preserves their patterns; refusing to accept crumbs either forces growth or creates space for someone else.

The second story is more tragic. This man lived with the pattern of attention-seeking and sabotage — he’d pull away, disappear, even cheat, then slip back just enough to keep his partner hopeful. Then he met someone who truly loved him and believed in him. He took her for granted, assumed she wouldn’t leave, and ultimately drove her away. At first the loss felt like relief — no expectations, no pressure — but later, silence and absence grew louder, and reality set in: she was gone for good. That realization haunted him; regret became his wake-up call. Over time, after failed relationships and comparisons to what he’d lost, he finally sought therapy and began asking why he kept running. He unpacked fears of intimacy and shame he’d carried for years. He didn’t win her back — by the time he changed she had moved on — but the heartbreak forced him to face himself and, eventually, be present in a new relationship. The core point: her leaving didn’t magically fix him, but it stopped the enabling and created the consequence that made change possible.

The third example involves one of the closest friends: brilliant, funny, wildly avoidant. She recoiled at intimacy, joked about disgust for love, and repeatedly bolted when relationships deepened. Underneath that defense, she wanted love but didn’t know how to accept it. Her wake-up call wasn’t someone else walking away — it was her body. Crippling anxiety, panic attacks, and sleepless nights became impossible to ignore. She laughed it off at first, but the physical and emotional pain intensified until she sought therapy. In treatment she confronted buried grief, guilt, and shame she had long suppressed. For the first time she acknowledged how her avoidance hurt another person, and that recognition, combined with unbearable internal distress, forced her to change course. She isn’t back in a relationship yet, but she’s actively healing, learning to feel rather than flee, and appears ready for a secure connection when the right person arrives.

These three narratives — the player who met someone who wouldn’t enable him, the man who needed loss and regret to face himself, and the woman whose body demanded change — look different on the surface but reveal the same pattern: avoidants don’t transform because someone loves them enough; they change when something larger than their fear forces them to. Until that tipping point, they’ll likely keep running. That’s a hard truth but an important one. You aren’t their wake-up call, therapist, or rescuer — and your healing is not their responsibility. What is yours to protect are your boundaries, your self-worth, and your peace. When you stop tolerating crumbs, stop rescuing, and stop reshaping yourself to earn minimal attention, the dynamic shifts: either they grow up or they leave, and either outcome frees you. In short, change happens when the pain of running outstrips the fear of staying — not a moment sooner. So if you’re wondering how to make an avoidant stop avoiding, flip the question: what are you tolerating that keeps you stuck? The more you chase and enable, the less likely they’ll face themselves. Draw a line, honor your standards, and prioritize your heart. You deserve consistent, safe love from someone who chooses you daily without games or disappearing acts. Yes, avoidant people can change — the stories prove it — but their growth is sparked by life’s consequences, not by your sacrifice. When you stop chasing someone running from themselves, you create room for true, secure, lasting love and free yourself from the cycle of overthinking and waiting.

Concrete Steps You Can Take Right Now

If this resonates, here are practical, non-manipulative things you can do to protect yourself and — if the avoidant chooses it — create healthier conditions for change.

Set clear, enforceable boundaries. Decide what behavior you will not accept (ghosting for days, secretive dating, dismissive put-downs). Communicate one or two non-negotiables calmly and once. Then follow through. Example script: “I care about you, but I can’t stay in a relationship where I’m ignored for days. If that happens again, I’ll step back for my own well-being.”
Limit rescuing and chasing. Rescue behaviors (explaining, begging, making excuses) reward avoidance. Pause before responding when you feel the urge to fix things. Shorten the leash: reduce availability, stop doing extra emotional labor, and protect your time and energy.
Use time-limited choices, not ultimatums. Ultimatums rarely work; clear choices that protect your dignity do. For example: “I can’t continue like this. If you’re willing to go to couples therapy in the next month, I’ll stay engaged. If not, I need to step away.” That makes consequences present without theatrics.
Ask practical questions, not accusatory ones. Replace “Why do you always do this?” with “When you disappear for days, what do you need to feel safe being present?” This invites curiosity but holds them accountable to answer and act.
Encourage help but don’t become their therapist. Suggest therapy or reading about attachment styles; offer support for scheduling but not for doing the work for them. Change is internal and sustained only through their commitment.

Self-Check: Questions to Ask Yourself

Am I changing who I am to get a sliver of attention?
Do I feel respected and safe in this relationship more often than I feel anxious or hurt?
Have I communicated my needs clearly and then enforced boundaries consistently?
Is there a pattern of growth and accountability from them, or only promises and occasional gestures?

When to Stay, When to Walk

Staying makes sense if they show consistent accountability: they take responsibility, do the messy work (therapy, reflection), and their actions align over months. Walking away makes sense when their pattern continues without change, or when their behavior is abusive, manipulative, or damaging to your mental health. Leaving is not punitive — it’s protective.

Therapies and Practices That Help Avoidant Patterns

Attachment-based therapy: focuses directly on relational patterns and how early caregiving shaped them.
Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT): useful in couples work to create safety and attachment bonds.
Cognitive-behavioral and trauma-informed approaches: help individuals sit with uncomfortable feelings and reframe avoidance-driven thoughts.
Mindfulness and interoceptive work: teaches tolerating bodily sensations (anxiety, shame) instead of fleeing from them.

Safety & Red Flags

Exercise extra caution if avoidance coexists with controlling behavior, gaslighting, infidelity without remorse, financial manipulation, or emotional/verbal abuse. Those aren’t attachment-related quirks — they’re red flags. If you’re unsure, reach out to a trusted friend, therapist, or a local help line.

Small Scripts You Can Use

“I value consistent care. If you’re not able to give that, I need to know so I can make healthy choices for myself.”
“When you withdraw, I feel unseen. I’m telling you this because I want honesty about what you need and what you can realistically give.”
“I’m willing to support your growth, but I can’t be in a relationship with one-sided emotional labor.”

Books & Further Reading

If you want to learn more about attachment and practical change, consider checking titles that focus on attachment styles, couples work, and boundaries. Therapy directories and local mental-health resources can also point you to clinicians who specialize in attachment and trauma.

If this resonated with you, share your experience in the comments: have you loved an avoidant, or been the avoidant? What was your wake-up call? Sharing helps people feel less alone and supports collective healing. And if this conversation helped you, stay tuned for more candid talks about love and reclaiming your power. Remember: avoidance only ends when the cost of running becomes greater than the fear of staying — and your job is not to save them but to save yourself.