The Myth of Individualism

 For the past 8 months of my life, I’ve strayed away from any romantic relationships, entering what I believed to be a stage of healing, independence and personal evolution. The progress I made from distancing myself from intimacy was so refreshing, almost addictive. I devoted all my time and energy entirely to my responsibilities and growth, jam-packing my schedule with different activities until I had no space to think about anything “unnecessary”. I convinced myself that this level of achieved solitude meant I had unbreakable levels of self-respect and empowerment, especially in a culture where being emotionally detached as a woman was easily rationalized as a necessary act of self-preservation and maturity. This “healing” of mine was blinding me from opportunities of deeper intimacy and important emotional connections. Over time, especially since I hit a “checkpoint” of some sort (meeting someone new) I began to question whether what I thought was “empowerment” was, in truth, a carefully built-up defense mechanism, one rooted not in my super awesome girl power but rather an unconscious fear. I didn’t realize it at first but there was a wall I had built up. Beneath the front of my composure and untouchability, I was forced to slowly confront the possibility that my version of healing was actually a much deeper issue of avoidance. Something of an unconscious attempt to protect myself from vulnerability, intimacy, and the unpredictable nature of human connection.

 

At first, the peace and quiet felt like I was doing something good for myself. I filled my days with routines that made me feel accomplished—working 3 jobs, early gym sessions, balancing dance, school, my social life, and books that taught me how to be “better,” and all these ideals about choosing myself. It was to the extent that if I wasn’t doing a million things a day, I couldn’t consider it productive.  I convinced myself that I had outgrown the need for intimacy in a modern culture where dating is so chaotic. I developed a complex, if you will, about my standards that no one could fulfill. In reality, I had mastered redirecting emotions that I should’ve taken the time to process and sit with. Whenever I felt like I was becoming a little TOO close to someone, an overwhelming sense of discomfort would take over any opportunity to build on that momentum and instead I would just want to pull away, retreating back into productivity or aesthetics (working on my appearance also makes me feel grounded,,, self worth/confidence stems from security as explained in last paper). Intellectualizing my feelings instead of actually allowing them to run their full course was my unhealthy coping mechanism, and even right now that’s still what im doing. I worked hard to create a life that looked whole from the outside, while secretly pushing away the chance for deeper connections even though I longed for something comforting, deep, and intimate.

 

This feeling was confusing and hard to accept. Subsequently, I looked into the “Myth of Individualism” by Peter L. Callero (my mom’s trusty amazon book subscription) different psychological theories of attachment and one by John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth to help me try and explain what it was that I was going through. Bowlby was a British psychologist who coined the term “attachment theory” in the 20^th century. Through studying infants and their caregivers and how they shape our patterns of functioning in adulthood, he developed the theory that we are hardwired to seek closeness with our caregiver, even if that bond is inconsistent, distant, or unhealthy. Depending on how we grew up with our caregiver, we develop different attachment styles and “rules” about how we should manage our life’s relationships. For example, avoidant attachment (the one I’m talking about), develops when a developing child is forced to be self-sufficient and hyper independent, engraving the idea in their heads that individuality is the key to survival, and we can only rely on ourselves. A child with a physically present but emotionally absent caregiver learns over time that it is “safer” to not need anybody, eventually turning into adult habits of extreme independency, discomfort in any vulnerability, or the tendency to shut down others when the chance of a relationship comes up. He also talks about how this attachment style is hard to see. It looks like emotional composure, so it’s easy to get confused. I wasn’t simply being strong or independent, I was protecting myself.

 

This myth of individualism I’ve embedded into my day-to-day life has slowly convinced me that I only need to rely on myself while ignoring the undeniable effect it’ll have on my ability to perform in my future relationships. I’ve mistaken it as empowerment and that blinding has led me to a stage in my life where I have to unlearn the avoidant patterns that are binding me back from more meaningful relationships.