An Avoidant's Confession

Turns out, I wanted more than I was willing to admit.

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the line, the internet declared war on avoidants. Every time I go on the internet, somebody is exposing us.

“Leave avoidants alone.”
“They don’t actually want love.”
“Stop dating emotionally unavailable people.”
“If they’re avoidant, run.”

For the longest time, we had the upper hand. People blamed themselves. People chased us. People wrote think pieces trying to understand us. Now the tables have turned. Phew!

Everyone has a psychology thread, therapy language, and suddenly, everyone knows our tricks. And unfortunately...

I think they’re starting to make some valid points.

But the funny thing is that being avoidant doesn’t feel the way people think it does. People assume we don’t want closeness. I don’t think that’s true.

I think we want it.

We’re just terrified of what happens after we get it. It’s like your heart and your nervous system signed two completely different contracts.

Your heart says, “Go.”
Your nervous system says, “Absolutely not.”

And somewhere in the middle, you become a walking contradiction. 🫷🫸

---

The more I’ve paid attention to myself lately, the more I’ve realized something that surprised me.

My avoidant personality doesn’t only show up in my romantic relationships. It bleeds into everything.

Friendships. Work. Conflict. Career. Even receiving kindness.

I saw it so many times while planning my event. There were moments I’d pause and genuinely ask myself, “Yetunde, why did you just behave like that?”

One of them was money. I complained endlessly about how much I was spending on the event. I was stressed. I was overwhelmed. I was calculating budgets in my head every single day.

Yet, when people reached out asking, “Please send your account details. I’d love to support you,” I did the exact opposite of what I wanted.

I ignored the messages. Then, after the event, I went back and reply with: “Omggg, I’m just seeing this. But you really didn’t have to. Thank you so much. The event went well.”

It was a lie. I saw every single message. I smiled when I read them. I felt grateful that people cared enough to offer. Then I quietly ran away from the help.

It wasn’t pride. At least I don’t think it was. It wasn’t that I didn’t need the money either, because I absolutely did. Something in me simply finds it easier to carry the weight alone than to let someone else carry even a tiny part of it. And that, I’ve realized, is avoidance too.

---

Another instant of my messy avoidant self bleeding into work. I hired an assistant, and somewhere along the line, we had a bit of friction. Nothing dramatic, or impossible to solve. A normal conversation would’ve fixed it.

Instead, I started withdrawing. Short replies. Cold responses. Silence.

The further I pulled away, the more uncomfortable everything became. Then one day she asked me something that genuinely made me reflect.

“If there’s something I’m not doing well, just let me know.”

And I remember thinking... Yetunde. Are you okay? This is someone you’re paying. Why are you avoiding a simple conversation of correcting her? Why are you letting your discomfort do the talking for you? Be a big girl. Or, in this case, be a boss. Have the conversation, and set things right.

This wasn’t just about dating anymore. This thing had followed me to work. And once I saw it there, I couldn’t unsee it.

---

A few months back, I wrote a thread called Oddly Specific Moments I Wish I Had a Boyfriend.

I thought people would laugh. Instead, thousands of women related to it. Some laughed. Some teased me. I also got dragged for it. Apparently, some men thought my reasons for wanting a boyfriend were too selfish and self-centered. Not that I cared because… why else would I want a man? Lol.

In the middle of all that, a mutual quoted my thread and said,

“This is weird. You can literally do all these things with your friends. You don’t need a man for that.”

I blocked her. Not because she was rude. Because she annoyed me.

First, I thought it was malicious. She knows I’m pro-sisterhood, and if she had read the thread in good faith, she would have seen that it was just a lighthearted, wishy-washy post.

But somewhere deep down, what really got to me was that it felt like she was accusing me of not appreciating my friendships. And I do.

I have incredible friends. Some of the best people I know.

In-fact, I genuinely think one of the reasons I’ve been able to comfortably live inside my avoidant bubble for so long is because my friendships have been so fulfilling.

But after sitting with that irritation for a while, I had to ask myself a question I wasn’t expecting.

What if both things are true? What if I can deeply love my friends...

...and still want romantic love?

What if those desires aren’t competing? What if they are simply different?

What if calling my best friend for three hours doesn’t cancel out the fact that sometimes I wish there was a man I wanted to call for three hours too? And then came the most annoying realization of all.

My ego had been hurt recently.

Not my heart. My ego.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself. Until I realized something.

Ego doesn’t get bruised over things that don’t matter.

Somewhere underneath all that pride was a version of me that had quietly hoped for more. A version of me that wished she hadn’t avoided. A version of me that wished she had been kinder to this person. A version of me whose heart isn’t actually made of stone.

And that sadly, we “avoidants” deserve all the heat we’ve been getting lately.

Until we fix our hearts and our heads, maybe we should be avoided too. Better still, don’t get into an entanglement with someone if your plan is to make them do all the reaching out.

Nobody deserves to keep dancing like that clown in front of the queen.

I wanted to eat my cake and have it too. And for the longest time, I did.

I ate one cake, looked down, and somehow another one was waiting for me. My avoidant self got away with it for so long that she probably should’ve been diagnosed with diabetes.

Then, in a snap, that privilege disappeared. I looked around and realized there was no cake left.

In the days that followed, I sat with emotions I had spent years outrunning. Longing. Missing. Regret. Remorse. Anger. Self-awareness. Name it.

And somewhere in all of that, I became honest enough to admit something.

I didn’t write that thread only because it was funny. I wrote it because I wanted every single one of those things.

That wasn’t just writer Yetunde speaking. That was human Yetunde too.

Which brings me back to that thread.

Because this time, I’m not writing it as somebody making jokes.

I’m writing it as an avoidant, with eyes slightly lowered in embarrassment, admitting all the oddly specific moments she wished she had a boyfriend.

Oddly specific moments I wished I had a boyfriend:

1. Sunday evenings: There is a specific loneliness that attacks around 5:47pm on Sundays. Suddenly I want brunch dates, forehead kisses, cinema plans, and somebody asking me if I’ve eaten. Monday to Friday, I am busy and the busyness keeps me functional. But Sunday evening, I feel like I should be on a soft couch somewhere watching something with somebody’s son, while he’s rubbing my head. Because why is the weekend ending and I’m just lying down staring at the ceiling? Ugh.

2. After a night out with the girls: The night was perfect. Everyone was beautiful, and life felt genuinely worth living for about four hours straight. And then the night ends and everyone starts peeling off - and some of them are going home to a person. Meanwhile I am in a cab, alone, with all this energy and nowhere to put it. Nobody to debrief to. Nobody to receive the proceedings of whatever the alcohol unlocked in me tonight. The girls were great but there is a specific role that needed filling and it’s vacant. 🫠

3. When I am sick: Nothing humbles you like dragging your weak body to the clinic yourself; signing your own forms, and coming home to an empty apartment. Not even seriously sick. Just sick enough for someone to check my temperature with actual concern on their face. Someone to make me food I did not have to request or describe or supervise. At some point during the coughing, sneezing, and swallowing of bitter drugs, you start thinking… wow. A man should actually be buying me Lucozade Boost right now.

4. When I need to be picked up from the airport: There is something so cinematic about your man waiting for you at arrivals. Just standing there, looking out for your face, maybe holding flowers. I have seen it happen for other people in real time and I can’t wait to experience it. Everybody is hugging somebody at arrivals. Flowers. Tight hugs. “I missed you.” Meanwhile I’m pricing Bolt and dragging my box with one dead hand. ✋

5. When I am watching a rom-com: I’m a Rom-com girlie. I will always love them. But there are moments, usually when the male lead does something that is technically simple but lands enormous - where I pause and think, I would like this to happen to me specifically. Not to JLo. Or Julia Roberts. To me. In my actual life. The rom-com industrial complex has given me very detailed expectations and absolutely no delivery timeline and I am just supposed to be okay about that. Where’s my Matthew McConaughey?

6. When I am ovulating: I will not be elaborating. I think we all understand. A girl has needs and the calendar has opinions and that is truly all I will be saying on the matter. Moving on.

7. When I can't reach my zip: I have a beautiful dress with the zip at the back. You see the problem. I've done full-body contortions, considered my options, and I'm left with only two choices: ask a neighbor with the right kind of shame, or worse, step out into the world until a savior appears. This dress needs two people to zip, but I wear it alone, and the math just doesn't add up. Someone should always be available for zip duty. This basic relationship service is being denied to me.

8. When something minor goes wrong and I just need to complain to somebody: My phone is buffering. My Apple ID is locked for the third time this week. The wifi has chosen violence. Nothing catastrophic, just the small irritating things that would be so much more bearable if I could turn to a person and say “can you believe this” and have them validate my frustration. I do not even need them to fix it. I just need a live human audience for my suffering. The group chat is not the same. They have their own problems.

9. Late night drives: When I am in a car going somewhere at night and the city is doing that thing where it looks actually beautiful - that is when the passenger princess fantasy hits hardest. I want to be in the front seat of someone’s car, music on, going nowhere specific, doing that thing couples do where they just exist together in motion. Instead I am driving myself or tracking a cab and neither of those options has the same energy. Not even close.

10. When I am bored at a specific level of boredom: Not the boredom that a show fixes. The boredom that requires a person. Where you have already texted the girls and the conversation has naturally concluded and now you are just there, scrolling the same four apps in rotation, and what you actually want is for someone to call you just because they wanted to hear your voice. That specific boredom. It hits differently and it has a very specific cure that I do not currently have access to.

11. After achieving something important: A wins at work, a milestone, good news, or finally seeing hard work pay off. And yes, I have amazing friends and family. Yes, I’m proud of myself. But sometimes I wish there was that one voice saying, “I’m so proud of you.” That one person who’s just as excited because I am. The person whose happiness feels linked to mine. That romantic witness validation. And in those moments, I won’t lie, I suddenly want a boyfriend.

And then I ended the thread with this:

And to everyone reading this who wants their own love story, I genuinely hope you find your person. Someone who feels like peace, friendship, attraction, and home all at once.
But until then, please don’t treat your single season like a waiting room. Your life is not on pause. Keep travelling. Keep dressing up. Keep celebrating your wins. Keep buying yourself flowers. Keep creating memories. Keep building a life that excites you.

It is okay to want love, just don’t let the absence of a partner stop you from fully enjoying the life that is already in front of you. ✨

---

The uncomfortable truth I arrived at:

I can’t keep treating my prospective romantic relationships like they’re disposable and expect to one day wake up with the kind of love I say I want.

I’ve spent years having all the fun. Keeping one foot in and one foot out. Convincing myself that I was simply avoidant.

But maybe that’s not the full story.

Maybe I am avoidant. Maybe I also have a choice. Because I can’t keep wrestling with myself like this. I can’t keep pushing away the very people who are willing to give me everything I’ve been writing that I want.

I can’t keep wishing for something while rejecting it every time it gets close enough to touch.

Maybe the next stage of my life isn’t finding love. Maybe it’s finally learning how to receive it.