Avoidant Attachment

 

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Dismissive Avoidant Relationship behavior - that's me...

 When in a relationship with a dismissive avoidant, they operate like they're still single. There's no collaboration, no shared decisions — it doesn’t feel like a true partnership or like you’re building something together. It’s just a strange feeling, like you’re simply along for the ride in their world.

At first, you might mistake their independence for strength, their calm for emotional maturity. You might even admire how self-contained they seem — how nothing seems to shake them. But as time passes, that independence begins to feel more like distance. You start to realize that they’re not just self-reliant; they’re emotionally unavailable. Every time you try to get closer, it feels like they retreat further into themselves.

You find yourself walking on eggshells, afraid that expressing your needs will make them pull away. You might start silencing yourself, convincing your heart to need less, to settle for crumbs of affection, just to keep the peace. They’ll tell you they “don’t like drama,” but what they really mean is they don’t want to face emotional discomfort — theirs or yours.

Their love often feels conditional, measured, and safe only when it stays shallow. Deep conversations turn into walls of silence, vulnerability feels one-sided, and affection becomes something you have to earn. You begin to feel unseen — like a background character in a story that’s supposed to be shared between two people.

And the cruel irony is, the more love and reassurance you offer, the more they seem to withdraw. It’s not because you’re doing something wrong — it’s because intimacy activates their deepest fears. They learned long ago that closeness equals danger, so they protect themselves by staying detached.

Eventually, you realize that no amount of patience or understanding can heal someone who refuses to meet you halfway. You can’t love someone into emotional safety if they keep running from connection. What you truly deserve is reciprocity — a relationship where effort flows both ways, where communication replaces avoidance, and where your emotional needs aren’t treated like inconveniences.

A dismissive avoidant isn’t broken; they’re often just a nervous system that learned to survive by staying in control. When someone meets that pattern with calm consistency instead of blame, the body slowly learns that closeness can feel safe again.

That’s the work of the Grace Cocoon—creating the kind of emotional stability where two people can co-regulate instead of abandon each other. It’s not about chasing or fixing; it’s about holding grace and boundaries at the same time so that fear has space to relax and love can do what it naturally does—heal.

🌿 Reflection:

When someone retreats, don’t take it as a verdict on your worth.

Take a breath, stay anchored in grace, and remember: steady love re-teaches safety.

Healing is not only possible—it’s already trying to happen through you.

From a relationship self help FB post

The Mission Trip Car Accident

 This morning, as Doug and I were chatting about old memories, I mentioned having to call Mom and Dad after the big car accident in Louisiana in high school on the way back from the church mission trip in Houston, TX. 

For the first time, I realized that with the internet resources we have now, I could probably find info or at least articles about the accident. 

I've always remembered that OJ Simpson's bronco chase happened during the mission trip because the story about our accident came before it on the local evening news we watched that night. However, I have never thought to use it to triangulate the exact date of the accident. I looked up when the bronco chase was - June 17, 1994. I looked at a calendar of June 1994 and was shocked to see Saturday (the day of our accident) was the next day - the 18th. 

After some creative Googling, I finally found newspaper articles. 

Once I had confirmation of where it happened, I looked at a map to see if I could figure out the church we'd stayed at that night until our church folks could come pick us up since the vans we were riding in were totaled. 

While I'm not 100% sure, looking at pics of the sanctuary for University Baptist Church in Baton Rouge felt instantly recognizable. I remember walking around outside the sanctuary trying to relieve muscle pain in my leg then sleeping on the floor in the back of the sanctuary for a bit. 

Ever since connecting these dots, I've felt a strange pain and connection to the past. Maybe it's just healing taking place because I have a bit of clarity on a hazy-but-impactful part of my life. 

The Nervous System of a Woman Who Secretly Wants to Be Rescued

 

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The Saga of Bertha...and Doug is stepping up (continued)

 Oh, Bertha!

From the time Doug bought our house, we have loved and feared Bertha. 

When Doug had the Homewood arborist to the house years ago to advise how to keep her safe and healthy, the arborist explained that the tree was over 200 years old (so, started growing before Alabama became a state). She is actually a collection of 3 trees that grew together into a single trunk.

You can see where the 3 trees split as they become the crown of the tree. 

And, this is why she is SO massive! From this Google Satellite view of our house (and Ms. Ruby's house), you can see the branch reach is bigger than our house. 

Since we bought the house 10 years ago, we've had a professional tree service come twice to trim dead branches and reduce some of the weight (especially from the side closest to our houses). 

Then came 6am on Saturday, July 26...

I woke up from a dead sleep to what seemed like the end of a loud clap of thunder and Annabel barking like crazy. I figured a storm was on the way so I needed to let Annabel out to potty before the bottom fell out. As I opened the back door to the yard, it was fully sunny without a cloud in the sky. 

My next thought was maybe it was a car accident or a giant truck hitting something so I went to the large living room window that faces Valley Ave. I was literally overcome when I realized the 1/3 of the tree facing Valley was now lying completely across Valley. 

I woke Doug up, and we tried to figure out what the hell to do when the Homewood Fire Department showed up with chainsaws. It took them almost 3 hours to cut what fell back to the edge of our yard to clear the road and to haul it away with claw trucks. 

A neighbor (that we don't know but is apparently friends with someone I know) that lives across the street posted about the fall on Facebook - including this insane picture.

It seems that dampness and leaf debris likely collected at the base of where that part of the tree branched from the main trunk, and some sort of plant began to take root. The dark part at the top of the gaping wound in the tree that is still standing in the picture is combo of a root system and decay. My theory is that the joint began to weaken to the point that the weight of the "branch" (in reality one of the 3 trees that grew together) became so much that it fell, taking that part of the trunk with it. 

Doug called Ace Tree Service (who we'd used to trim back the tree over the years) on Monday. They came out to quote a price but said we had to secure a permit from the City of Homewood before they could take the tree. 

Apparently Homewood takes its reputation as being Tree City very seriously. If we were trying to remove the tree for the hell of it (instead of because it is a safety hazard), we would have to submit plans to replant another shade tree (that would be expected to grow to the same size) - AND would be fined $500 if that tree was not actually planted within 120 days. 

It took Homewood 2 weeks to send an inspector (who agreed the tree had to go) and issue us the permit. 

The soonest Ace could schedule the removal was Sept 11 - more than a month later. So, I was a ball of nerves hoping the other 2/3 of the tree wouldn't decide they also were tired of standing. 

Last Thursday, the day finally arrived. When Garrett (the tree service foreman) knocked on the door to let us know they were there and to confirm we didn't need to get any cars out before they started (since we'd had to clear everything to the backyard to give them room to work), he made the remark that it was a monster tree. I watched through the kitchen window as he walked back to the crane, leaned against it, and just shook his head while looking up a the monster. I guess the guys who quoted the job had not completely clued everyone in. 

It took them 6 hours to cut up the fallen part still in our yard to move it, have a worker up in the tree to tie each big branch section to the crane before cutting it off so it could be safely lowered to the ground, and then felling the trunk (that was slightly shorter than the house at that point). 

Finally, all that was left was a stump...

...and a giant pile of debris by the road.

When I heard - and felt - the trunk fall, I felt like I could relax for the first time in months because I no longer had to worry about whether a tree would come through the house. 

We mourned her Friday (especially since the claw truck didn't come pick up the debris yet) and noticed the difference without her majestic shadow. 

We'd collected a number of acorns in the hopes that we can sprout at least one new Bertha to replant someday, but we figured that was the end of her story. 

Until 2:30am on Sunday, September 14...

I was woken out of a dead sleep by Annabel barking like crazy (I would REALLY love if I could stop being woken up to complete chaos). Since it has happened several times, I've come to realize - even in my not-even-half-awake state - that SOMETHING has happened is she's barking like that out of a sleep. 

So, I do a quick look around the house, but the alarm had not gone off so I figured it wasn't someone breaking in. Since tree debris was blocking the mailbox, I knew it wasn't someone hitting it (for what would be the third time). I had not heard anything before her barking woke me up to give me any clues. 

I looked out the big window in the living room, but the mountain of tree debris was blocking any view of the road immediately in front of our yard. I strained to see anything but noticed a little plume of smoke that seemed to be coming from the other side of the debris mountain closest to our neighbor's house. 

I then noticed a few cars - not slowing down in the LEAST - that changed to the far lane (which is the lane for traffic going in the opposite direction) just as they reached where our driveway meets the street - just before they disappear behind the debris mountain. 

I legitimately thought that someone had flicked a cigarette out of their car that had ignited the wood and leaves so I made my way down the driveway to the other side of the debris to see if I could tell what was smoking - I sure didn't want a pyre in our front yard. 

So, when I saw a car - facing the wrong direction in the middle turn lane - as I made my way around the debris mountain, I could not make my still-mostly-sleep brain compute. 

I only saw one car so I thought it was a hit and run. I saw a man standing by the car so I asked what happened. He replied "I hit that log on the side of the street" as he motioned to one of the giant pieces of tree that was now extending maybe a foot over the white shoulder line and into the traffic lane. I thought that somehow the 3 giant pieces of tree that had been stacked on each other must have shifted at some point in the night and pushed that piece into the road. I wondered if it had even happened just as he was coming up to that part of the road, and that was why he'd hit it. 

Very shortly after that, the police appeared from one direction and the Fire chief vehicle from the other. Since the driver was certainly about to be taken care of - and he didn't seem to be injured, I headed back inside to wake up Doug since I assumed the Police would want to talk to us since it was an item from our property that was involved. 

As I started walking down the hall to Doug's room (not only is he a ridiculously deep sleeper, his noise machine masks most noise so he doesn't just wake up to chaos like me), I was shaking uncontrollably. 

He calmly (at least from the outside, he may have been shaken up on the inside) got dressed and started looking out the front windows. He went out on the deck to smoke a cigarette and then sat on the couch to watch TV while we wait to see if anyone would come talk to us. 

I could not make my body be still. My teeth were chattering, my body was shivering. I felt like I was in shock - it reminded me of how I felt hours after the giant car accident involving eighteen wheelers and our church vans in Louisiana when I was in high school, heading back from a mission trip in Houston. I felt electricity racing through my body. 

I mean, I'm sure it was adrenaline, but I don't know why it was so much worse this time getting woken up like I did when it didn't happen when the tree fell months ago. Maybe it was because a person had been directly affected and damage had been done this time. 

About an hour after I'd been awakened, the whole thing was cleared - the car had been towed (the airbags had deployed) and all emergency personnel were gone. Doug headed back to bed. 

I tried to go back to bed, but since I had actually walked out and seen there was a giant piece of tree in the road (which I'd also convinced myself was what had caused the accident), I felt myself bracing everything I heard a car go by in expectation that I was going to hear an impact. 

I ended up going to sleep on the couch in the den since I couldn't hear cars as well, but I only ended up sleeping about an hour and a half more anyway. 

After taking a closer look in the light of the day, I realized I had been completely wrong about my theory of what had happened. 

The "log" (as he'd called it) had been on the shoulder of the road. Sure, it was on the same level of the road, but God-knows-how-many people had passed that same place for at least 2 days without hitting it so it was not grossly extending into traffic. Anyway, his car hit maybe six inches in from the edge and pushed the whole piece back and out. THAT was what caused the pieces that had been stacked on it to tumble. 

I assume he was going at a decent rate of speed considering the passenger side of his card was torn up all the way from the front of the car to at least the back door AND the car had spun to come to rest facing the opposite direction. Since our yard is directly across from the streetlight, there is no argument that he couldn't see it in the dark. 

Still, I went to Lowe's that morning to get reflective safety gear to make sure the pieces that were now actually IN the road were as visible (day or night) as possible. 

THE DOUG PART

From the morning the tree fell, Doug has been on top of it. 

He got out of bed without grousing when I woke him up with a really bad description of what happened (I apparently said a really big branch had fallen - completely underselling what had happened). 

He went out and talked with the Fire Department. 

He handled Ace through the consultation to the booking to the final cleanup. 

He not only handled the City Permit, but he reached out for clarification on some questions AND followed up when he had not heard back (his usual refusal to follow up on things had been a big frustration for me in the past). 

The most meaningful part for me, though, was this past Sunday morning. He never groused or complained when I woke him up for the accident. He didn't get a tone or complain when it ended up that he didn't have to get up. 

I even apologized at one point saying that I guess I hadn't needed to wake him up, but he said - SINCERELY - that it was good I had. He calmly talked through possible outcomes if the city did send a fine or if the guy or his insurance tries to make a claim. 

I truly felt like we were a team and like I had someone to depend on like I wanted and needed at various times (especially in my childhood) but didn't have. I was truly comforted. 

Do I think something else is going to come of all this tree drama before it's all said and done? ABSOLUTELY, but I also know that I can count on Doug. And that we really will make it through together. 

The Perfect Night with Doug

Fall has been in the air lately with incredibly pleasant temps. 

Last night, I made a very Southern dinner (pork chops, squash casserole, and fresh little green peas), and when we sat down to eat, I commented, "Well, I feel like we need to enjoy a little Moonshine for dessert to complete this Southern meal."

After eating, Doug commented, "Do I remember something about moonshine?"

I asked him to pour some for us while I was doing the little bit of clean up in the kitchen. 

He asked what flavor I wanted (we purchased several flavors at a little distillery on the way home from our last visit to Lance and Heather's North Georgia cabin). I told him to surprise me but also let me guess the flavor to make it more fun. 

After I was done in the kitchen, I joined Doug on the deck where he had set out the mosquito protector and our drinks. 

I literally guessed through every moonshine flavor EXCEPT the correct one, and reliving that distillery visit kicked off an hour and a half or so of connection. 

We stayed outside on the deck enjoying the beautiful weather and chatting about all kinds of things from Doug's memory of living at his grandparents' house in college to what we might want to do in the future since we should be financially stable for retirement to sharing memories from different points in our lives. 

No TV. No phones. Just us. 

I even saw a shooting star while we were sitting looking at the sky (Doug, unfortunately missed it). 

It was amazing!! If it was getting late and I wasn't also getting cold, I would have stayed there with him for another hour or longer. 

When I said I needed to go to bed, Doug asked to play one song to end our time on the deck with. I already knew exactly what song he was going to play, but I didn't have my usual frustration when he starts playing songs or videos. I was connected so I was in. 

As he was about to his play, I told him to wait a sec. I went in and turned off the outside deck light and closed Annabel inside so we could just experience the night with the music. 

"Nightswimming" by REM played, and I reached for Doug's hand. We held hands, listened to the music, and looked at the night together for the whole song. 

It was my favorite night in a long time. 

THAT is what I have wanted in our relationship and in our marriage. I felt really, truly connected - and even valued - in a way that I don't know I have since we were first dating. 

I've wondering if it was even possible or likely for us to return to that level or if it is just destined to disappear as a relationship grows longer. 

It gives me hope that we can rekindle and build towards the relationship that I know we both want but that the constant barrage of the realities of life keeps seeming to take away.

FB Post: The Nervous System of a Woman Who was Always Left to Regulate Alone

 

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