I took an attachment style test a few years ago. One of those online ones, nothing fancy. Got “secure.” Cool. Filed that away in the “things I know about myself” folder and moved on.
Took another one a few days ago. Different site, more detailed. Results came back: 60-something percent secure, 30-something percent anxious, rest avoidant.
And I just sat there like… huh.
I mean, the anxious part wasn’t a total surprise. Things have been different lately. Me and my partner set a boundary recently, both agreed on it, both know it’s the right call. But pulling back means less updates, less knowing what’s going on in each other’s day. And that gap, the not-knowing, it does something to me that I didn’t expect.
It’s not like I’m checking her online status every five minutes or reading into every message. It’s more like… I just want to know more. Not in a controlling way. More like I got so used to knowing a lot, and the absence of it feels wrong. Like something’s missing that shouldn’t be.
And sometimes, when I don’t have anything keeping my hands busy, there’s this subtle chest tightness. Not dramatic, not a panic attack or anything. Just this low-level thing sitting there, barely noticeable unless I stop and pay attention. Which of course I do, because apparently that’s who I am now.
The weird part is being in the middle.
Because I can feel it. The anxiety, the wanting to reach out, the “what if she’s upset and I don’t know about it.” All of that is there. But at the same time, there’s this other part of me that goes, “bro, you know this is just anxiety. You know she’s fine. You know this is temporary.” And that part is right. I know it’s right.
But knowing something is irrational doesn’t make it go away. That’s the thing nobody tells you. You can identify the feeling, name it, understand exactly where it comes from, and it still just… sits there. Like a notification you can’t dismiss.
I wrote about this before, the pause button thing. Being able to step back and watch yourself. And yeah, that still works. I can catch the anxiety before it turns into something dumb. But catching it doesn’t mean it stops existing. It just means I’m watching myself be anxious instead of being anxious without realizing it. Which is better, I think? But also kind of exhausting.
So apparently I’m not the “emotionally stable, secure type” I thought I was. Or maybe I am, mostly. 60% of the time. But that other 30% is real, and it shows up when something sets it off.
I used to think secure meant you just don’t get anxious about this stuff. Like it’s a personality trait you either have or you don’t. But maybe secure is more like… you feel all the same things, you just have the tools to not let it run the show. Which, honestly, sounds a lot less cool than “I’m just naturally chill about relationships.”
I don’t know. I’m still figuring this out. The in-between is uncomfortable. Anxious enough to spiral, but secure enough to keep it under control.
It’s kind of exhausting, honestly. But I guess that’s where I am right now.