If you've ever found yourself overthinking a delayed text, needing constant reassurance, or convincing yourself that a relationship is about to end because your partner seems a little quieter than usual... you're not alone (in the slightest!).
Anxious attachment can make relationships feel exhausting. One moment, you feel connected and secure, and the next, you're analysing every interaction, no matter how small, looking for signs that something is wrong. If you could just figure out what it is... you're protected.
I know this because I've lived it.
For around eight years, I was single. During that time, I dated on and off, but nothing ever became official and I never really clicked with anyone. Looking back, I think part of me wanted a relationship desperately, while another part of me was terrified of being hurt again.
After an abusive relationship, years of carrying old wounds, and eventually recognising the impact of CPTSD on my life, relationships didn't exactly feel safe. So, instead, I threw myself into work.
At first, it felt productive. I built my skills from the bottom, worked my way up to a very successful career, chased goals, and kept myself busy. But eventually, I realised that work had become more than just something I enjoyed. It had become a way to avoid dealing with the loneliness, grief, and fear I was carrying underneath it all. I didn't even enjoy the work, it was just a distraction.
So I took a huge step back and quit (drastic, I know!)
I spent about a year trying to reconnect with who I was outside of my work and productivity. During that time, I discovered attachment theory and immediately recognised myself in descriptions of anxious and disorganised attachment. For the first time, I understood that I wasn't "not enough" or "bad at relationships". My nervous system had simply learned (through years of bad experiences) that love wasn't always safe or predictable.
I started doing the work. Therapy, self-reflection, journalling, somatics, nervous system regulation, learning about boundaries, challenging old beliefs, practising self-compassion. Slowly, things truly began to change. I felt lighter, more like the real me that I'd lost for so long.
At one point, I retook an attachment style quiz I'd completed years before. This time, the result was earned secure attachment. I was so proud of myself. It felt like proof that healing was possible and that all of the work I'd put in had made a difference.
And then... I got into a relationship.
After eight years of being single, all of that knowledge suddenly had somewhere to go. But the thing that no one really talks about is that healing in theory and healing in practice are two very different things.
When you're single, there aren't many opportunities to practise secure attachment. There are no disagreements to navigate, no moments of vulnerability, no delayed replies triggering fears of abandonment. There are no real stakes. Just imagined "I'd do this if this happened" scenarios.
Being in a relationship again has been beautiful, but it's also shown me that healing isn't about reaching a point where you never feel anxious again. There have been moments where old fears have resurfaced, and times where I've needed to really remind myself that just because I feel unsafe doesn't necessarily mean I am unsafe. Days where I've had to consciously choose not to believe every anxious story my brain is telling me. The old me would have spiralled out of control & self-sabotaged - becoming acusatory and mistrustful, whether fairly or not.
The difference now is that I recognise what's happening. Instead of thinking, "Something is wrong... they must want to end it," I can often pause and ask, "What real evidence is there that something bad is happening? Is it real or imagined?"
Instead of seeking immediate reassurance, I try to explore what I need in that moment. Sometimes it's communication with my partner, sometimes it's self-soothing, sometimes it's simply reminding myself that uncertainty is part of every relationship.
I've realised that overcoming anxious attachment isn't about becoming someone who never gets triggered. It's about building enough safety within yourself that when those triggers show up, you know how to respond differently.
Understanding what activates my attachment system has been one of the most helpful things I've done. Delayed communication, changes in routine, conflict, and uncertainty can all trigger old fears. Recognising these patterns allows me to respond more intentionally rather than reacting automatically.
During my years of being single, I built a life centred around work. Now, I'm learning that nurturing a secure relationship includes making all areas of your life balanced, so you're not relying on any one thing to fill your cup - that's too much pressure!
Friendships, hobbies, rest, personal goals, and maintaining your own identity all matter. The fuller your own life feels, the less likely you are to seek all of your safety and validation from one person. The more fulfilling your relationship will be, and there will be less pressure on your partner to be everything for you!
I've learned that not every uncomfortable feeling needs immediate action. Running to my partner to talk about every little worry I have would be exhausting for us both. Recognising which fears need discussion and which don't has been invaluable.
Journalling, grounding exercises, going for a walk, talking things through with someone I trust, or simply sitting with discomfort for a little while can help me determine whether I'm responding (reasonably) to the present moment or reacting to an old wound.
This one has been particularly challenging because vulnerability can feel terrifying when you've been hurt before. Healthy relationships aren't built on mind-reading, they're built on honest conversations about needs, fears, and boundaries.
I've learned that expressing my feelings doesn't make me needy. It makes me human, reduces the risk of building resentment, and it's vital for a healthy relationship.
I used to think that healing meant reaching a point where I would never struggle with anxious attachment again. Now, I know that healing looks different to that. It looks like noticing your patterns more quickly, responding to yourself with compassion instead of criticism, choosing new behaviours even when old ones feel familiar.
It looks like trusting yourself to navigate discomfort, understanding that progress isn't erased by difficult days. Most importantly, it's recognising that relationships often don't create our wounds. They simply highlight the places within us that still need care and attention.
If you're navigating anxious attachment right now, I want you to know that you're not broken, and you're certainly not alone. The fact that you're here, reading this and becoming aware of your patterns is already a huge step.
Healing is possible. Secure attachment is possible. The real work begins not when we understand the theory, but when we find ourselves brave enough to put it into practice.
I'm still practising too.