On the Illusion of Self-Discovery

Posted on September 2, 2025 by Chris McBean

In an age where “finding yourself” has become a lifestyle brand, it’s hard not to notice, gently, how strange it all is.

You see it everywhere: bright, hopeful faces on “healing journeys,” framed against sunsets in Bali; corporate executives burning out in glass towers only to reappear months later as “authentic living” coaches after a $12,000 retreat in the Andes. Suburban families decluttering their closets in search of inner peace, as if enlightenment might be hidden somewhere between last season’s jackets and the yoga mats.

Modern self-discovery, especially among the comfortable and educated classes, has become an elaborate ritual. The tools vary: yoga teacher trainings, digital detox camps, van life road trips, artisanal workshops on gratitude, but the impulse remains deeply human: the yearning to feel whole, to understand oneself beyond the blur of obligations.

And yet, with a kind of quiet sadness, you realize that much of this restless effort misses the heart of what older wisdom traditions have long tried to say: that the self you are chasing cannot be caught like a butterfly. The ego, the needy, striving “I”, is not a puzzle to be solved or a prize to be won. It is an illusion to be gently seen through, a dream to wake up from.

In this softer light, it’s clear that modern self-discovery often becomes a new form of grasping. A gentler grasping, perhaps, dressed in mindfulness retreats and ayahuasca ceremonies, but grasping nonetheless. Transformation is packaged, marketed, and sold, with self-actualization offered for a price. It’s not that these experiences are without value; many carry glimpses of beauty and honesty, but when the pursuit becomes a new identity, a new project of consumption, it quietly reinforces the very suffering people hope to leave behind.

Meanwhile, the genuine work, the real, hard, simple work, remains overlooked. It doesn’t glitter. It looks like sweeping a floor without resentment, holding silence without needing to fill it, sitting with discomfort without demanding it change. It looks like living, fully and without drama, in the plainness of an unremarkable day.

Ancient teachings, whether whispered under the Bodhi tree, scribbled in the margins of Stoic letters, or passed hand-to-hand among Sufi poets, point always to the same difficult kindness: You do not find yourself by changing scenery. You find yourself by changing how you see.

And sometimes, by realizing, with a soft sigh, not a harsh judgment, that there was no fixed, shining “self” to find after all.

This truth is not meant to mock anyone’s search. It is not meant to diminish the sincere longing behind every yoga mat, every travel blog, every self-help journal. Longing is sacred. The path is sacred. It is only that the destination, in the end, may be smaller and quieter than expected, not a place to arrive at, but a way of being already waiting inside the life you have.

And that, perhaps, is enough.

The “True Love Will Change Him” Myth

Posted on August 25, 2025 by Chris McBean

One of the most persistent cultural myths about relationships is the idea that “true love” can fundamentally change someone’s nature. It appears in countless stories: the roguish bachelor who becomes the devoted husband, the restless wanderer who finally settles down, the free spirit tamed by the right partner. In the context of polyamory, this myth often takes a specific form: the belief that a happily polyamorous person will eventually abandon multiple loves when they meet the “right one.”

For many polyamorous people, this is a familiar experience. We disclose our relationship orientation clearly and early, often as one of the very first things we share. And yet, it is not uncommon to encounter potential partners who hear “I am polyamorous” not as a statement of identity or practice, but as a challenge to be overcome. The assumption lingers that love, if deep enough, will lead to conversion.

This assumption reveals more about the cultural scripts we inherit than about the people involved. Generations of romantic storytelling have reinforced the notion that the highest form of intimacy is exclusive, permanent monogamy. When polyamorous individuals do not conform to this arc, partners may experience confusion, disappointment, or even a sense of betrayal, as though a promised transformation has failed to occur.

The problem runs deeper than mismatched expectations. At first glance, polyamory appears to be a liberating and beautiful idea. Who would not want more love, more intimacy, more sources of support and joy? Yet when lived in practice, polyamory frequently exposes unresolved vulnerabilities. The experience of sharing a partner can provoke profound feelings of abandonment, inadequacy, or betrayal. For many, it becomes the first time they must directly confront the reality of their attachment style and emotional insecurities.

This is one reason polyamory is often misunderstood. It is not simply “more love,” nor is it an easy alternative to monogamy. It is a demanding practice that requires rigorous self-examination, radical honesty, and a capacity for discomfort. Jealousy, fear, and insecurity do not disappear in polyamory; they are amplified. To remain in the dynamic requires bravery, and a willingness to name and work through these challenges.

It also requires discipline. Not only sexual discipline, though that is critical, given the need for careful vetting and consideration of potential partners, but emotional discipline. Communication skills become the backbone of any polyamorous structure. And here, one of the most sobering truths emerges.

“The quality of a polycule is directly proportional to the communication skills of its least emotionally secure member; or, if you prefer something gentler, less absolute, more accepting – a polycule’s health depends less on its most skilled communicator, than on how well its least secure member feels heard.”

If even one person in the network is unable to express needs, set boundaries, or listen without defensiveness, the strain reverberates outward. This is why intentional partner choice matters. Attraction and chemistry may open the door, but sustainability depends on emotional maturity and the capacity for dialogue. Without these, polyamory can quickly collapse into chaos and harm, easily mistaken for selfishness or exploitation disguised as “freedom.”

The myth of “true love will change him” bypasses this complexity. It reassures us that we will not need to face our own insecurities, because eventually the polyamorous partner will conform to a monogamous ideal, but this reassurance is hollow. The harder truth is that no amount of affection can erase a person’s fundamental orientation toward relationships. Attempting to do so often results not in intimacy, but in resentment and disillusionment.

A more grounded vision of love recognizes people as they are, rather than as we wish them to be. True love, in this light, is not about rewriting someone’s story, but about choosing to join it. It requires clarity, communication, and the courage to engage with the difficult emotions that inevitably arise. Polyamory, when practiced with integrity, is not a rejection of love’s depth, but an expansion of its possibilities, provided those involved are willing to meet the demands it places upon them.

Ultimately, the challenge of polyamory is also its gift. It forces participants to confront their own fears, to sharpen their honesty, and to expand their capacity for empathy. It strips away the comforting illusion that love can be a simple cure-all. In doing so, it offers a different, and perhaps more radical, lesson: that love is not about changing another person, but about embracing them fully, while also accepting the work required to embrace oneself.

An idea that’s been waiting since 2019 is finally ready to come into the light. PolyConnections will be a shared space for stories and reflections from across the polyamorous community: a place to write, to connect, and to listen. It’s been a long time coming, but the conversation is about to begin.

Being an Independent Knowledge Worker has a New Trendy Name

Posted on August 8, 2025 by Chris McBean

For over 25 years, working as a business consultant has meant managing multiple projects for different clients, each demanding unique skills and contributions. Whether leading a project, analyzing business processes, or facilitating strategic discussions, this multi-faceted approach to work offers both challenges and rewards. One of the most appealing aspects of this style is the built-in networking opportunities. Engaging with diverse clients allows for the development of meaningful professional relationships while creating dynamic ways to generate income. By choosing to work independently and focusing on outcomes-based projects from my own space, rather than embedding within a client’s office, I have embraced a flexible, autonomous way of working that aligns with modern career trends.

This approach aligns with what is now popularly referred to as “polyworking,” a concept that has gained traction in recent years. Polyworking involves taking on multiple professional roles simultaneously, often across different industries or fields, rather than adhering to the traditional single-job model. Its rise can be attributed to advancements in technology, the normalization of remote work, and shifting attitudes toward traditional career paths. It enables workers to diversify income sources, build a broad skill set, and gain greater autonomy over their work schedules.

Polyworking is not without its challenges, however. Successfully managing several roles requires careful time management, as balancing multiple commitments can be overwhelming. The risk of burnout is real, with the potential for fatigue and reduced productivity if boundaries between roles are not clearly defined. Additionally, polyworking often lacks the financial and employment stability associated with traditional full-time jobs, as benefits and protections like health insurance or retirement plans may be absent.

Despite these challenges, polyworking offers notable advantages. By maintaining diversified income streams, individuals can reduce financial vulnerability during economic downturns or unexpected job losses. Exposure to various industries not only broadens professional networks but also fosters personal and professional fulfillment by allowing individuals to pursue their passions alongside their careers. Digital tools and platforms, such as project management software and freelance marketplaces, have played a pivotal role in making polyworking feasible, enabling effective collaboration and organization.

As the gig economy and remote work continue to evolve, polyworking is increasingly seen as an alternative to traditional career paths. For some, it represents freedom and flexibility; for others, it is a necessary adaptation to modern economic realities. While it may not suit everyone, polyworking is shaping the future of work, offering opportunities for greater financial independence, professional growth, and a more tailored work-life balance. Understanding how to navigate its challenges is key to thriving in this emerging landscape.

When a Sex Worker Calls a Lawyer a Whore: Feminism, Hypocrisy, and the Weight of Words

Posted on August 2, 2025 by Chris McBean

I recently witnessed a moment that was, in equal measure, jarring, ironic, and deeply revealing: a sex worker called a lawyer a whore. The word hit the air like a slap, not just because of who said it, but because of what it exposed. This wasn’t just a spat. It was a cultural moment that pulled back the curtain on how we still weaponize language soaked in misogyny, even among those who should, by all rights, know better.

Now, let’s pause here. The term whore has long been used to shame, control, and degrade women, especially those who dare to transgress sexual norms. Yet, in recent years, many sex workers have reclaimed it, asserting their agency and challenging the stigma. To hear someone from within that world hurl it as an insult is, on the surface, ironic. But beneath that irony lies something far more complex: a commentary on respectability, power, and the hypocrisy that still riddles both feminist and professional spaces.

When a sex worker calls a lawyer a whore, they’re not talking about sex. They’re talking about compromise, about selling out, about being willing to do anything for money or power while cloaking it in the illusion of respectability. It’s a sharp dig at the moral contradictions we tolerate in professional life. After all, lawyers and especially those in corporate or political circles, are often paid handsomely to defend the indefensible. They play the game in tailored suits and courtrooms, while sex workers do it in ways society still deems unacceptable. Yet only one of them gets a LinkedIn profile and a pension.

This, to me, is the hypocrisy at the heart of modern feminism. Too often, it uplifts professional women while distancing itself from those who work outside “respectable” labour categories. Mainstream feminism has made great strides, but it still struggles to make room for those whose empowerment doesn’t come with a university degree or a boardroom badge. Sex workers, domestic labourers, and other marginalized women are too often left out of the conversation, unless they serve as cautionary tales or symbols to be rescued.

And this is why the insult stung so sharply. The word “whore” still holds power, not because of what it means, but because of the shame we still attach to it. When used against a lawyer, it highlights the deep discomfort we have with the idea that all labour, whether it involves a courtroom or a bedroom, is transactional. That both women may be “selling themselves” in some fashion, but only one gets to pretend it’s noble.

Feminism, if it means anything today, must confront this hypocrisy head-on. It must stop drawing lines between the respectable and the reviled, the educated and the erotic. It must challenge the systems that make one woman a whore and another a hero, when both may be navigating the same capitalist dance – just with different music.

In that sense, maybe the insult wasn’t ironic at all. Maybe it was deadly accurate.

Great Textpectations: And Other Hauntings From Ghosters Anonymous

Posted on July 17, 2025 by Chris McBean

Ah yes, ghosting, the ultimate disappearing act of the digital age. It’s like ditching a party through the bathroom window without so much as a “thanks for the snacks.” Passive-aggressive? Check. Lazy? Double check. But effective? Sure, if you count avoiding awkward conversations as an accomplishment. Spoiler alert – it’s not.

Let’s be real. Ghosting is less about sparing someone’s feelings and more about dodging accountability. It’s like saying, “I’m too emotionally constipated to have an adult conversation, so here’s eternal silence instead.” Bravo, ghoster. You’ve unlocked the relationship equivalent of turning off your phone and calling it self-care.

Now, here’s the plot twist: some people ghost people they actually like. Why, you ask? Oh, just a cocktail of commitment issues, fear of vulnerability, and the maturity of a houseplant. Think of it as emotional dodgeball, except they threw the ball, ran home, and never came back.

Research (and common sense) shows that people with attachment avoidance are the reigning champions of ghosting. These are the folks who would rather fake their own death than text, “This isn’t working out.” Instead, they fade away like a bad Wi-Fi signal, leaving you wondering if it was something you said, did, or wore (it wasn’t).

Here’s the kicker, ghosting isn’t about you. It’s about them. Their fears. Their insecurities. Their inability to handle adult-level emotions. So, when someone ghosts you, consider it a blessing. You just dodged a lifetime of, “Why won’t they talk about their feelings?” Pop the champagne and move on.

That said, let’s not sugarcoat it, ghosting hurts. It’s the emotional equivalent of yelling into an empty canyon and waiting for an echo that never comes. One minute you’re texting about your favorite pizza toppings, the next you’re refreshing your messages like a stock ticker in free fall. And just when you’ve pieced yourself back together, in shuffles the ghost turned zombie.

Ah yes, the zombie; a ghoster who rises from the dead with a “Hey stranger!” text at 2 a.m., as if they didn’t vanish like a magician’s rabbit. It’s the ultimate insult: “I didn’t care enough to stay, but I’m bored enough to come back.” Block them, delete the thread, and light a sage stick for good measure.

So, what’s the moral of the story? Ghosting is the coward’s way out. It’s a neon sign flashing, “I can’t handle hard conversations!” If you’re ghosted, clap for yourself because you dodged an emotional grenade. And if the zombie reappears? Ghost them right back. Poetic justice tastes even better than that pizza you never got to share.

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ

Posted on June 14, 2025 by Chris McBean

If only this were real!

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ is a spiritual movement that reimagines Christian teachings to fully embrace and affirm polyamorous relationships. At the heart of its manifesto is a simple, profound belief: that the love exemplified by Christ is limitless, far too vast to be contained by monogamy alone. This theology holds that Christ’s message of compassion, acceptance, and radical love applies to all forms of consensual, ethical relationships, including those that involve multiple partners and the full spectrum of LGBTQIA2S+ identities.

A central tenet of the church is the idea that traditional Christian doctrines around marriage and sexuality often fall short of expressing the depth and breadth of Christ’s love. Instead, the church calls for a faith rooted in mutual respect, honesty, and open-hearted communication. It also seeks to dismantle the social and religious stigmas that continue to weigh down non-monogamous relationships, seeing those barriers as obstacles to living out a more inclusive and authentic Christian love.

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ invites its followers to grow spiritually by embracing the beauty and diversity of human connection. It challenges the notion that monogamy is the only valid or moral path, and instead celebrates a theology where diverse expressions of love are understood as sacred reflections of the divine.

And to be clear, this isn’t polygamy in terms of one man with many wives. This is polyamory: a celebration of all genders, all sexualities, and all loving combinations built on trust and consent.

Sounds kind of incredible, doesn’t it?

Now, if only I weren’t a Secular Spiritualist…

Roll Britannia: The Greggs Chronicles

Posted on May 7, 2025 by Chris McBean

Once upon a time, in the wilds of Tyneside, there emerged a force so powerful, so delicious, that it would one day rival the might of empires. No, not the Romans. We’re talking about Greggs, the humble bakery, turned national obsession that has swept across the UK like gravy on a sausage roll.

It all began in 1939 when a man named John Gregg decided that Newcastle needed something more than coal, fog, and football. So, he did what any visionary would do: he got on a bike and started delivering fresh eggs and yeast to the good people of the North East. Little did he know that his humble yeast rounds would eventually help leaven the British soul.

Fast forward to the 1950s, and the first Greggs shop opened. It sold bread, cakes, and dreams. And by dreams, we mean hot pastries that could scald your mouth, but warm your heart. Greggs soon became a staple of the British high street, which is no small feat considering the fierce competition from fish & chips, kebabs, and aggressive seagulls.

Now, Greggs isn’t just a bakery. It’s a lifestyle. A philosophy. A national institution. While France has the baguette, and Italy has pizza, the UK has the Greggs sausage roll, a flaky, meaty miracle that unites builders, bankers, and students alike. It’s one of the few things in Britain that still works reliably and costs less than a cup of designer coffee.

But let’s not forget innovation. In 2019, Greggs stunned the nation with the Vegan Sausage Roll. Critics laughed. Piers Morgan nearly exploded. But the people? The people lined up. The plant-based pastry launched Greggs into a new orbit, attracting vegans, vegetarians, and confused carnivores who just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

From there, things escalated. Greggs went viral, won awards, and, brace yourself, teamed up with Primark to launch a fashion line. That’s right: you can now wear your steak bake with pride, even if it’s printed on a hoodie. The combo meal of clothing and carbs is the 21st century’s answer to haute couture.

Let’s be honest: Greggs is taking over the UK one pasty at a time. No town is too small, no train station too remote. There’s probably a Greggs opening inside your kitchen cupboard as we speak. Resistance is futile. You will be fed.

Plans for world domination remain hush-hush, but we all know it’s coming. First, it’ll be Europe, somewhere easy, like Belgium. Then maybe America, where Greggs will stun Starbucks with sausage roll-based frappuccinos. By 2040, the UN will convene in the Greggs Lounge, sipping on baked bean lattes and resolving conflicts over custard slices.

So next time you bite into a cheese & onion bake, know this: you’re not just enjoying a snack. You’re part of a movement. A flaky, buttery, gloriously British movement.

Long live Greggs.

Why Your Dismissive-Avoidant Partner Loves You From Across the Room (With the Door Slightly Ajar)

Posted on April 23, 2025 by Chris McBean

Ah, the dismissive-avoidant attachment style. The human equivalent of a cat: they might love you, they might not, but either way, they’re going to knock your emotional mug off the table just to see what happens.

Dismissive-avoidants are the folks who will cuddle you on the couch and then, without warning, evaporate like steam in a British mystery novel. You think things are going great, you’re texting every day, you’ve met each other’s pets, you’ve even shared fries. Suddenly, they’re “just really needing some space” and have gone to “work on themselves” in the wilderness with no signal and no return date.

Now, don’t get me wrong, they’re not bad people. They just learned, somewhere along the way, that feelings are kind of like bees: unpredictable, swarming, and best avoided if possible. These folks often grew up in homes where vulnerability was about as welcome as a raccoon at a wedding. So, they built themselves emotional panic rooms and installed locks with 87-digit codes.

Dating a dismissive-avoidant can be a little like dating a haunted house. There’s a lot going on inside, but they don’t want you poking around in the attic. Ask them how they feel, and they’ll either crack a joke or vanish in a puff of logic. “I don’t need to talk about feelings. Feelings are just electrical impulses. You know what else are electrical impulses? Traffic lights. And I don’t cry at those, do I?”

These are the champions of “I’m not really looking for anything serious” and “I just want to see where this goes”, which is often directly into a brick wall labeled unavailable. But don’t let that deter you, because dismissive-avoidants do fall in love. It just takes a while. And by a while, I mean longer than it takes for an avocado to go from rock-hard to brown mush.

They actually value connection deeply, but only if it doesn’t interfere with their need for independence, alone time, or the ability to escape through a metaphorical skylight at any moment. They’re like emotional ninjas: stealthy, elusive, and weirdly attractive.

If you’re dating one, the key is patience, and a good sense of humor. Celebrate the small wins: they made eye contact while discussing their emotions? Break out the champagne. They admitted they missed you (after a three-week silence)? Start planning the wedding.

Just remember: when they say, “I don’t really do emotions,” what they mean is, “Emotions are terrifying and I don’t know how to do them without short-circuiting like a 1996 printer.”

So love them gently, laugh a lot, and maybe invest in a nice doormat that says “Welcome-ish.”, because with a dismissive-avoidant, you never know when they’ll show up, but when they do, it’s almost always in their own charming, weirdly tender way. Just don’t ask them to define the relationship too soon. That’s how you get ghosted via interpretive dance.

From Work Husbands to Instagram Crushes: Embracing the Messy Beauty of Human Bonds

Posted on April 13, 2025 by Chris McBean

There’s been a lot of talk lately about “microcheating”, that nebulous zone between platonic friendship and outright infidelity that’s often fueled by digital intimacy. You’ve probably seen the headlines or heard a podcast warn you about the dangers of liking your ex’s selfie or texting a coworker late at night. Critics point to social media as the villain, a tool for secret flirtations and emotional betrayal, but let’s take a breath and be honest; people have always had emotionally rich, complicated connections outside of their primary partnerships. We just used to call them something else.

Take, for example, the decades-old concept of the “work wife” or “work husband.” Long before we were DM’ing heart emojis or watching each other’s stories on Instagram, we were confiding in coworkers, sharing emotional labor, cracking inside jokes, and supporting each other through the grind of daily life. These relationships have always lived in a gray area, close enough to be intimate, but generally understood to stop short of romantic or sexual; and yet, we largely accepted them as harmless, even beneficial. We chuckled at the idea of having “two spouses”, one at home, and one who understands your work stress better than anyone else. No one called it microcheating back then, it was just life.

The moral panic around microcheating today says more about our evolving discomfort with complexity than it does about the relationships themselves. In a world that’s increasingly networked, emotionally porous, and socially dynamic, we are clinging to a monogamous template that often doesn’t serve how we actually live or love. When people form emotional attachments through social media, or deepen their connections with someone outside their marriage, the problem isn’t necessarily the connection, it’s the secrecy, the shame, the absence of clear agreements. If anything, these “infractions” point to a need for more openness, more dialogue, and more room for complexity in how we relate to each other.

As someone who supports and lives polyamory, believing that humans are naturally wired for multiple meaningful relationships, I find it fascinating how society polices these invisible lines. Why is it okay to rely on your “work husband” for emotional validation every day, but suspicious if you develop a deep bond with someone online? Why is one seen as harmless routine, and the other as emotional betrayal? It often comes down to how much control we believe we’re entitled to exert over our partners’ inner lives. Frankly, that control is rarely about love, it’s often more about fear.

The truth is, what is being called microcheating is a symptom of a culture that wants the emotional richness of multiple connections, but refuses to grant itself the language or permission to explore them consciously. People are starving for intimacy, for shared secrets, for someone who listens without judgment. They find it where they can, sometimes in a DM thread, sometimes across the break room coffee machine. Rather than pathologizing these relationships, we should be making space for them. We should be encouraging couples, and moresomes, to talk about what kinds of emotional connections they’re open to, what boundaries feel respectful, and how to share space without falling into surveillance or possessiveness.

In polyamorous circles, we understand that love and connection aren’t zero-sum. My emotional intimacy with one person doesn’t diminish what I share with another, rather it expands my capacity. So when I see the hysteria over someone maintaining a friendship that’s “too close,” I wonder, what would change if we trusted each other more? If we understood that our partners are complex, full-hearted beings who may love more than one person deeply, and that’s not a threat, but a gift?

The rise of microcheating discourse reflects a growing tension between our social conditioning, and our relational reality. Maybe instead of drawing stricter lines, we should be blurring them with intention. Naming the feelings! Creating agreements! Inviting more truth into the room, because whether it’s a work spouse, an online confidante, or someone you just really vibe with over coffee, there’s nothing inherently wrong with emotional closeness. What matters is the integrity with which we hold it.

Attachment Styles: A Pigeonhole for Every Relationship Problem

Posted on April 12, 2025 by Chris McBean

I wrote this piece in response to a comment from one of my readers. I hope they like it; it’s a follow up on the post “A Pigeonhole for Every Personality”

If there’s one thing western society loves almost as much as personality tests, it’s diagnosing relationship dynamics with attachment styles. Suddenly, every awkward text message delay, every weird argument over who forgot to buy oat milk, and every vague feeling of existential dread about love can be neatly categorized into one of four labels: Secure, Anxious, Avoidant, or the truly thrilling combo package—Fearful-Avoidant.

It’s like the Myers-Briggs of romance, except instead of deciding whether you’re an introvert or extrovert, you get to figure out whether you cling to your partner like a koala in a windstorm, or bolt for the door the second someone gets emotionally vulnerable.

The concept of attachment styles comes from psychologist John Bowlby, who first theorized that the way we bonded with our caregivers as infants shapes how we approach relationships in adulthood. Sounds reasonable, right? But the internet has turned this into an all-consuming diagnostic tool, where every failed romance is either the fault of an anxious partner texting too much or an avoidant partner texting… never.

The Pigeonholes of Love
Let’s start with the holy grail: Secure Attachment. If you have this, congratulations! You are a unicorn. You text back promptly, communicate your needs like a functional adult, and somehow don’t panic when your partner asks, “Hey, can we talk?” You were probably raised by parents who hugged you at the right times, and never forgot to pick you up from soccer practice. The rest of us admire you, resent you a little, and assume you exist mostly in fiction.

Then there’s Anxious Attachment, a.k.a. the Overthinker’s Club. These are the people who send, “Hey, everything okay?” when you don’t respond within 15 minutes, then follow up with, “Sorry, never mind, ignore me,” followed by, “Actually, I just wanted to check in,” and finally, “I guess you hate me now.” They crave closeness, but also kind of expect to be abandoned at any moment, which makes dating them an emotional rollercoaster with no seatbelts.

On the flip side, we have Avoidant Attachment, the poster child for ghosting. These folks see a heartfelt emotional conversation the way most people see an unsolicited call from their car insurance provider: something to be avoided at all costs. Their love language is “mysterious silence” and they’d rather disappear into the woods than have a deep talk about feelings. Commitment feels suffocating, which is why they often end up dating people with anxious attachment, because nothing says “healthy relationship” like one person desperately clinging, and the other desperately pulling away.

And then, for the truly chaotic, we have Fearful-Avoidant Attachment, also known as “Anxious and Avoidant, Because Why Not?” These individuals desperately want connection but also deeply fear it, making every relationship a high-stakes game of emotional Jenga. They text “I miss you” and then immediately throw their phone into the sea. They want love, but also, love is terrifying. It’s exhausting for everyone involved.

Escaping the Labels
Like every other personality test, attachment styles are useful, until they become a life sentence. Sure, maybe your childhood shaped your relationship habits, but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed to spend eternity analyzing your texts like a forensic scientist. People can change, grow, and even, brace yourself, go to therapy.

So, the next time someone tells you they’re anxiously attached or avoidantly wired, smile, nod, and remember; nobody fits neatly into a box. Except maybe Secure people. But honestly, who trusts them?

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