Why Do I Push Away the People I Love?

Dhruv and Lavanya spent Saturday at her parents’ home in Pune. It went well. Her father brought out the old family photographs. On the drive back, she rested her hand on his knee and said, “I think they love you.”

By Monday, he is finding fault with the way she loads the dishwasher. On Tuesday, he works late. On Wednesday, she asks what is wrong, and he says, “Nothing. I just need space.” By Friday they have fought about nothing much, and he is alone on the sofa with a strange feeling of relief. By Sunday, the relief has turned into missing her.

He has done this before, with her and with others. He does not understand it. He loves her. So why does getting closer make him want to leave?

Why distance feels safe

As children, we learn what happens when we need someone. If a parent usually came when we cried, we learned that reaching out works. If nobody came, or help came with anger or shame, we learned something else.

Psychologists see two common ways of adapting to that second lesson. Some people reach out harder. They cling, ask again and again, and worry about being left. Others do the opposite: they learn to need less. They rely on themselves, keep their feelings hidden, and try not to notice how much another person matters to them.

Needing less is not coldness. It was a sensible answer to an old problem. If needing people led to disappointment, needing them less hurt less. The trouble is that the old answer keeps running in adult life, long after the original problem has gone.

People who keep their distance are not all alike. Some do not seem to miss closeness much. Others want it badly and are afraid of it at the same time. Dhruv, with his warm Saturday and his cold Monday, is the second kind.

The feelings are still there

People who push others away often believe they simply feel less than other people do. Research suggests otherwise.

In one experiment, people were asked not to think about a breakup. Those who usually keep their distance were very good at this. Then they were given a hard mental task to do at the same time. Suddenly, the sad thoughts about separation came flooding back, along with harsh thoughts about themselves.

In other words, the calm is real, but it takes effort to hold in place. When you are stressed, ill or exhausted, that effort runs out. This is why people often push hardest at the very times they most need someone.

What your partner sees

Lavanya cannot see any of this. She sees a man who was warm on Saturday and who is criticising the dishwasher on Monday. So she reaches the obvious conclusion: he is losing interest, or she has done something wrong.

The iceberg below shows the gap between them. The behaviour sits above the water, where she can see it. The fear that drives it sits below, where only he can feel it, and often even he cannot put it into words.

Chasing makes it worse

When one partner pulls away, the other usually follows. She asks again. She follows him into the next room. She wants an answer now. He feels crowded and pulls back further, so she pushes harder.

Researchers who film couples talking about their problems see this pattern often, and over time it wears a relationship down. The partner who keeps chasing tends to grow less and less happy. Each person’s move makes sense as a reaction to the other’s. Together, they make a trap.

Can this change?

Yes, slowly. Our early lessons about closeness shape us, but they do not decide our future. People do change, through a loving relationship, through big life changes, and through therapy. Studies that followed people from childhood into adulthood found that many who felt unsafe as small children grew into secure adults, and went on to have good relationships.

The way a partner approaches you matters too. In one study, people who tend to pull away became less angry, and withdrew less, when their partner spoke gently, showed that they understood, and mentioned something good about them.

What helps

• Learn your early signs. A sudden irritation. An urge to be busy. Finding fault just after a good time. Give the pattern a private name, such as “I am doing the thing”, so you can spot it.
• Notice the timing. You probably pull away after closeness, not after fights: a lovely weekend, meeting the parents, someone saying “I love you”, or talk about the future.
• Say it instead of doing it. Try: “We had a close weekend and now I feel like running. It is not about you. Give me an hour and I will come back.” Taking space with a promise to return feels very different to your partner from simply disappearing.

• Take space in small, honest amounts. A walk. An evening alone, agreed in advance. Then you do not need a fight to get some room.
• Stay ten minutes longer. When you want to leave a hard conversation, stay a little longer than feels comfortable, and then take your break. Little by little, closeness becomes easier to bear.
• Tell your story once. Tell your partner where you learned that needing people was unsafe. Once she knows what lies below the waterline, what she sees above it will make more sense.
• If you are the partner. Ask gently, give room, and do not chase. Chasing sets off the very alarm you are hoping to calm.