quietsailor32 said:Exactly. You're basically just running a loop of whatever dynamics you picked up from your parents growing up. Either they treated you that way, or at least one of them did.
I think this idea is a bit oversimplified.
I grew up in a house where emotional distance didn't exist.
My mom is a nurturer. Not just with me, but with everyone. She has this empathy that sometimes veers into borderline neurotic territory.
She passed that right down to me. It’s probably why I deal with that constant inner restlessness and excessive guilt.
My dad was more rational than her. More reserved. But he wasn't emotionally detached either. He was just... I don't know... balanced. Normal.
But here's the thing. Even though I'm an open book, I've always been drawn to guys who are a bit antisocial. The types who hate crowds, shut themselves off, and don't seek attention. They’re self-contained. They build these walls, creating that exact emotional distance that you have to peel back layer by layer.
The way I see it, my openness—which I inherited from my mother—is something I actually view as emotional instability. It's not something I particularly love about myself. My emotions allow me to give a lot, but they can also cause damage. Mostly to me, but sometimes to others too. Like when I take things too personally and lash out defensively instead of just walking away.
I can hang out with the loud guys, the ones constantly seeking the spotlight. They don't bother me. But I could never build a deep connection with someone like that.
In those "emotionally distant" men, I guess I see the stability I've been trying to build in myself for years.
That’s likely why I gravitate toward people who are my complete opposite. Only with that type of guy can I find true emotional intimacy—even if it’s a long, bumpy road just to get through his shell before we can even start building something real.