It never starts with words. It starts with silence...Not with a fight, not with a reason — but slowly, quietly.
A delayed reply… a shorter conversation… a subtle shift in tone.
Messages stop. ..
Calls reduce.
Private conversations pause
Tags fade away.
And that’s when the whispers begin:
They’re drifting…
They will leave.'
But this fear isn’t new. It’s been my silent companion for years.
I even wrote a thread once, trying to untangle it, trying to understand why it held me so tightly.
Click here What -if
I’ve always craved connection. But hidden beneath that craving was a fear — a fear that people would leave once they truly saw me.
At first, I didn’t recognize it as fear of abandonment.
I told myself I just cared too much. But in truth, it was fear disguised as love.
Every time someone got close, I found myself slipping into patterns:
Over-apologizing for small things.
Doubting their silence.
Reading between lines that didn’t exist.
Constantly asking, “Are we okay?” or trying to fix things that were never broken — just to feel safe.
But in doing so, those silent echoes in my mind became the loud noise that slowly pushed people away.
My need for reassurance became too heavy for them to carry.
And when they eventually distanced themselves, it felt like the confirmation of my worst fear:
“See? They left. I knew they would.”
But the painful truth was — I had a hand in that outcome.
My fear became the driver, leading me straight toward what I wanted to avoid.
That’s the heartbreak of a self-fulfilling prophecy, isn’t it?
We end up proving ourselves right in all the wrong ways.
It took losing important connections for me to sit with this pattern and face it honestly.
I asked myself the tough questions:
Why did I believe I had to earn love by overthinking, over-giving, and over-apologizing?
Why did I treat silence like rejection?
Slowly, I began to understand:
People don’t leave because we aren’t enough.
They leave if they want to — when they feel overwhelmed, when it no longer aligns with their path, or simply because that’s their choice.
And none of that defines my worth.
Now, when that old fear starts whispering again, I pause.
I remind myself: I am safe.
I don’t have to prove my value; I just have to be me.
If someone chooses to stay, it’s beautiful.
If they choose to leave, I let them — because clinging never stops anyone who’s meant to go....
The hardest lesson I’ve learned is this:
Fear of abandonment doesn’t protect you — it traps you.
But trust… trust in yourself, in who you are, and in the natural rhythm of relationships — that’s what finally sets you free!
Cheers!!
A delayed reply… a shorter conversation… a subtle shift in tone.
Messages stop. ..
Calls reduce.
Private conversations pause
Tags fade away.
And that’s when the whispers begin:
They’re drifting…
They will leave.'
But this fear isn’t new. It’s been my silent companion for years.
I even wrote a thread once, trying to untangle it, trying to understand why it held me so tightly.
Click here What -if
I’ve always craved connection. But hidden beneath that craving was a fear — a fear that people would leave once they truly saw me.
At first, I didn’t recognize it as fear of abandonment.
I told myself I just cared too much. But in truth, it was fear disguised as love.
Every time someone got close, I found myself slipping into patterns:
Over-apologizing for small things.
Doubting their silence.
Reading between lines that didn’t exist.
Constantly asking, “Are we okay?” or trying to fix things that were never broken — just to feel safe.
But in doing so, those silent echoes in my mind became the loud noise that slowly pushed people away.
My need for reassurance became too heavy for them to carry.
And when they eventually distanced themselves, it felt like the confirmation of my worst fear:
“See? They left. I knew they would.”
But the painful truth was — I had a hand in that outcome.
My fear became the driver, leading me straight toward what I wanted to avoid.
That’s the heartbreak of a self-fulfilling prophecy, isn’t it?
We end up proving ourselves right in all the wrong ways.
I asked myself the tough questions:
Why did I believe I had to earn love by overthinking, over-giving, and over-apologizing?
Why did I treat silence like rejection?
Slowly, I began to understand:
People don’t leave because we aren’t enough.
They leave if they want to — when they feel overwhelmed, when it no longer aligns with their path, or simply because that’s their choice.
And none of that defines my worth.
Now, when that old fear starts whispering again, I pause.
I remind myself: I am safe.
I don’t have to prove my value; I just have to be me.
If someone chooses to stay, it’s beautiful.
If they choose to leave, I let them — because clinging never stops anyone who’s meant to go....
The hardest lesson I’ve learned is this:
Fear of abandonment doesn’t protect you — it traps you.
But trust… trust in yourself, in who you are, and in the natural rhythm of relationships — that’s what finally sets you free!
Cheers!!
