Sometimes, we walk into situations with the hope that they will bring connection, clarity, or maybe even closure. When we open up, we hope the other person will see us, hold space for our vulnerability, and respond with care. But that’s not always what happens. Sometimes, it feels like we’re left holding emotional wreckage we never expected.
I’ve experienced this twice this year—first with someone I had known for years and more recently with someone I never imagined would play a significant role in my life. Both times, despite my best efforts to approach these connections with honesty and openness, I found myself picking up the pieces alone.
Navigating the Pain of Mixed Signals and Emotional Distance
First, someone that I had known for over 30 years. We had reconnected during a pivotal time for both of us, and I thought that maybe, after all those years, there was a possibility for something more between us. He reached out, showing interest, and it felt like the beginning of something different, something meaningful.
But what followed was emotional inconsistency. He seemed interested one moment, then distant the next. I tried to converse honestly about my feelings, but his responses were evasive. He continued to send mixed signals, which left me confused and frustrated. Eventually, I realized I could not fix or change his emotional unavailability. Despite our long history, I decided to let go of hope for a romantic connection.
I told him how I felt and couldn’t maintain this back-and-forth dynamic, slowly eroding my emotional peace. His response? He didn’t engage with it at all, continuing to give me flirty, casual messages that felt shallow compared to the depth of what I was experiencing. The final blow was realizing he wouldn’t take responsibility for how his actions affected me. I walked away, hurt but knowing I had made the right choice.
Enter Guy Two
After stepping back from the situation with the last guy, I wasn’t looking for anyone new. I had no intention of dating, no desire to put myself in a vulnerable position again. But Guy Two entered the picture unexpectedly. We had known each other for years, and one day, out of nowhere, he suggested visiting me. “What do you think about me visiting to see if we have chemistry?” he asked.
It felt genuine. I allowed myself to hope and think that this could be different. After all, I had been single for two years, intentionally avoiding intimacy while focusing on my healing. If someone from my past who knew me and respected my growth was willing to explore a potential connection, maybe it was worth considering.
Guy Two arrived, and initially, things seemed fine. But as the days unfolded, I noticed a pattern. He would engage with me one moment, then emotionally check out the next. There were moments of silence that felt heavier than they should, and when we did talk, it felt like he wasn’t truly present. Still, we became intimate despite my reservations. I hadn’t been with anyone in two years and made it clear to him that intimacy wasn’t casual for me.
But after that, everything changed. It was like a switch had been flipped. What I thought was a meaningful step for us, he downplayed. When I brought up how hurt I felt by the shift in his behavior, he denied ever suggesting that he wanted to see if we had chemistry. Worse, he tried to minimize everything, telling me that his only mistake was coming to visit in the first place.
I was hurt and sad. It was as though the significance of our connection—something I had opened up to after years of protecting myself—meant nothing to him. He initiated everything, stirred the emotional pot, and left me alone to deal with the fallout.
Navigating The Emotional Wreckage
What made everything more painful wasn’t just the lack of accountability—it was how these two men, both of whom I began to have feelings for, left me to navigate the emotional wreckage they created. Guy One emotional unavailability and Guy Two’s avoidance of responsibility and attachment left me wondering: Why do so many people initiate intimacy or emotional closeness when they aren’t willing to deal with the aftermath or follow through?
Both men taught me a painful lesson about emotional avoidance and the damage it can do, not just to a relationship but to the people left picking up the pieces. I entered both situations with honesty and openness, and in both cases, I felt like I had been too vulnerable and trusting.
But I’ve realized something important through these experiences: my willingness to be open, even after years of protecting myself, is not a weakness. It’s a testament to my growth and to the work I’ve done to heal and create space for meaningful connections. What I learned, though, is that not everyone can meet me where I am. And that’s not on me.
I’ve accepted that while I can’t control how others respond to vulnerability, I can control how I move forward. I can choose to protect my peace, let go of connections that don’t serve my emotional well-being, and continue prioritizing my growth.
Moving Forward
I’m not angry at either of these men—it’s the opposite. I have deep compassion for both of them. They both have good hearts, and I think they are trying to grow and work through things. They were not in the right place to have a secure relationship with me.
Before this experience, I mistakenly believed that healing myself would naturally attract someone with a secure attachment style. So, it wasn't obvious when I found myself attracting two people with avoidant attachment styles instead. I’ve since realized my commitment to personal growth drew them to me. Healing doesn’t necessarily bring the right people into your life, but it offers the strength to walk away sooner rather than sticking around and hoping for things to change. That’s the real difference. In the past, I would encounter this behavior and make excuses for the person, justifying my decision to stay. I would accommodate their emotional outbursts and only leave once the situation left me emotionally drained.
If you’ve ever found yourself holding emotional wreckage that someone else created, know you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel hurt, disappointed, and even angry. But it’s also OK to let go and understand that your vulnerability is not the problem. Keep your boundaries firm, but don’t let the actions of others make you close off entirely. You deserve better, and it’s possible to find people willing to do the emotional work, just like you have.
I’ll continue my journey, believing that while some connections might break my heart, they won’t break my spirit.
Disclaimer: Journaling is a powerful tool to support your healing process. The CBT exercises in Journals to Healing journals are intended to help you analyze and reframe your thoughts as part of a personal growth journey. However, these journals do not replace therapy or professional help. If you are experiencing intense emotions or feelings beyond your control, please seek professional assistance. Resources such as the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (988) and Crisis Text Line (Text HOME to 741741) are available 24/7 for support. Remember, reaching out for help is a strength, and healing is a process.
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