We often admire independence. The ability to stand on our own, to support ourselves, to need little from others and to be self-sufficient. These qualities are seen as signs of maturity and strength. But sometimes what looks like independence is actually armour. For many people, especially those shaped by early experiences of neglect and trauma, independence is less of a choice and more of a survival strategy. This is what we see in avoidant attachment: the appearance of self-reliance that hides a nervous system braced against the vulnerability of connection.
The Roots of Avoidance
Attachment theory, developed by John Bowlby (1969), shows us how children adapt to the caregiving environment they find themselves in. When a caregiver is consistently responsive, children learn that their needs can be met in relationships with others. But when caregivers are dismissive, emotionally unavailable, or uncomfortable with intimacy, the child faces a dilemma. The longing for closeness does not disappear, but expressing it often leads to rejection or shame. To manage this pain, the child learns to minimise attachment needs. They turn away rather than reach out.
Mary Ainsworth’s (1979) “Strange Situation” experiments demonstrated this vividly. Infants with avoidant attachment styles did not cry when their mothers left the room, nor did they seek comfort when she returned. On the surface, they appeared independent. But physiological measures told a different story, as their stress responses were highly activated. The lion was there, but it was hidden behind a mask of self-sufficiency.
Trauma and the Nervous System
From a trauma perspective, avoidance is not a personality flaw but a nervous system strategy. As Stephen Porges (2011) explains in polyvagal theory, our bodies constantly scan for cues of safety or danger. When closeness feels threatening because in the past it led to pain or abandonment, the nervous system adapts by withdrawing. This withdrawal is not a conscious decision, but it is biology doing its best to protect us.
Bessel van der Kolk (2014) reminds us that trauma lives in the body. For the avoidantly attached person, intimacy may trigger survival responses even in the absence of actual danger, as their system remembers that closeness once meant risk.
The result is a life lived at arm’s length, where self-reliance is celebrated outwardly but isolation gnaws inwardly.
Independence or Isolation?
Here lies the paradox, as what looks like strength is often a wound. The avoidantly attached adult may be successful, competent, and admired for their independence, but beneath this surface, there is often a deep loneliness. The nervous system is caught in a loop that involves longing for connection but fearing the vulnerability it requires. The lion of the past is projected into the present, and the body reacts accordingly.
This is why avoidant attachment is not simply a style or preference. It is a trauma response. It is the body remembering that to need is to be hurt, and so it teaches the mind to dismiss needs altogether.
Independence becomes a fortress, and within its walls, the nervous system never truly rests.
The Cost in Relationships
In adult relationships, avoidant attachment often shows up as difficulty with intimacy, difficulty trusting, or a tendency to withdraw when emotions run high. Partners of avoidantly attached individuals may feel shut out or unloved, even when affection is present. The avoidant partner is not cold by nature, but their nervous system has been shaped to associate closeness with danger. When conflict or vulnerability arises, their body moves into survival mode. They shut down, distance themselves, or intellectualise feelings to keep the lion at bay.
Donald Winnicott’s (1960) concept of the “false self” is useful here. The avoidant individual presents a competent, composed exterior, while the true self, the part that longs for connection, remains hidden for fear of rejection. This false self may function well in the world, but in relationships, it creates a painful gap. Intimacy requires the presence of the true self, and healing requires that this hidden part feels safe enough to emerge.
Repair and Regulation
The good news is that avoidant attachment is not fixed. Healing lies not in forcing intimacy, but in gently retraining the nervous system to tolerate and trust closeness. Deb Dana (2018) describes how regulation and co-regulation are central to this process. For the avoidantly attached person, small, safe experiences of connection help to heal the nervous system. Over time, the body can learn that closeness is not always dangerous, that the lion is not really in the room.
Repair in relationships becomes the fertile ground for this healing. Each time a rupture is acknowledged and repaired, the nervous system receives new evidence that connection does not always end in abandonment, and vulnerability does not always invite shame. Slowly, the body learns to relax its guard. Healing happens not through perfection but through repeated experiences of rupture and repair, where safety is rediscovered.
Letting Go of the Armour
Letting go of the armour of independence is not easy. For many, it has been a lifelong strategy for survival. The idea of relying on others may feel unbearable, even dangerous. But true independence is not the absence of need, but the freedom to need without fear. As we grow in regulation and as we experience safe connection, the protective walls can soften around us. The self no longer has to hide. We can stand strong, not because we are alone, but because we are connected.
Conclusion
Avoidant attachment teaches us how deeply trauma shapes the nervous system and our capacity for intimacy. What looks like independence may, in fact, be the scar of unmet needs. Healing begins when we recognise this independence for what it is, a trauma response. Through nervous system regulation, safe relationships, and the courage to repair, we can move beyond the armour of avoidance. In doing so, we discover that true strength lies not in standing alone, but in allowing ourselves to be seen, held, and connected.
References
Ainsworth, M.D.S. (1979). Infant–mother attachment. American Psychologist, 34(10), 932–937. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.34.10.932 https://local.psy.miami.edu/faculty/dmessinger/c_c/rsrcs/rdgs/attach/ainsworth.1979.amer_psych.pdf
Bowlby, J. (1969). Attachment and Loss: Vol. 1. Attachment. New York: Basic Books. https://mindsplain.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/ATTACHMENT_AND_LOSS_VOLUME_I_ATTACHMENT.pdf
Dana, D. (2018). The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy: Engaging the Rhythm of Regulation. New York: W.W. Norton & Company. https://www.scirp.org/reference/referencespapers?referenceid=2897973
Porges, S.W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-regulation. New York: W.W. Norton & Company. https://archive.org/details/polyvagaltheoryn0000porg/page/352/mode/2up
Van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. New York: Viking. https://archive.org/details/polyvagaltheoryn0000porg/page/352/mode/2up
Winnicott, D.W. (1960). The theory of the parent–infant relationship. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 41, 585–595. https://tcf-website-media-library.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/21095241/Winnicott-D.-1960.-The-Theory-of-the-Parent-Infant-Relationship.-International-Journal-of-Psycho-Analysis.-411.-pp.585-595-1.pdf
