MyDailyLove (Attachment secrets) · Transcript · · Updated
How to Handle an Avoidant Who Hurts You (Do NOT Get This Wrong) – Transcript
Video by MyDailyLove (Attachment secrets) · Watch the original on YouTube
Summary
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- The speaker explains that avoiding conflict by smoothing over hurt teaches the avoidant that hurting you does not change anything.
- The speaker advises describing specific behaviors and their impact rather than attacking an avoidant person's character.
- The speaker notes that an avoidant person's explanation for their actions is not the same as taking responsibility for the future.

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How you respond after an avoidant hurts you can decide a lot about what happens next. It can shape whether the avoidant pulls away even further, whether they learn they can keep hurting you, or whether something in them actually starts to shift, which is exactly why getting this moment right matters so much. And the reason why this moment matters so much is because right after an avoidant has hurt you, they're paying much closer attention than they let on.
Somewhere inside, they know something happened. They might feel guilty, defensive, or simply on edge. And whether they show it or not, they're watching to see what you'll do. That makes your response land far more strongly than it would at any other time. If that response comes as a flood of emotion, a long conversation, or a demand for answers, the avoidant's walls go straight up and they pull away to protect themselves. But if you swallow the hurt and act as if nothing happened,
they quietly learn that hurting you doesn't really change anything. And whether you realize it or not, the way you respond in that moment can influence what happens the next time the avoidant hurts you. Because every reaction sends a message about what you're willing to accept, what happens when your boundaries are crossed, and whether the same behavior can continue without anything changing. But there's a way to respond when an avoidant hurts you that doesn't involve chasing, punishing, or
pretending that what happened didn't affect you. And once you understand this approach, you'll know how to stand up for yourself without creating even more distance. More importantly, you'll be able to give the avoidant a real opportunity to take responsibility, make an effort to repair the connection, and show you through their actions that things can actually be different. So, without further ado, let's get into it.
All right, let's just begin with the first few hours after it happens, before you've said a single word to the avoidant about it, and before you've even decided whether you're going to. Maybe the avoidant said something during an argument that was colder than anything you expected to hear. Maybe a plan you'd been looking forward to all week got cancelled with a two-line text or with no text at all. Or maybe the avoidant simply went quiet for a few days right after a stretch where things
felt closer than they had in a long time. Whatever shape it took, the first thing you feel is hurt. And that hurt is sharp and very clear. But if you pay close attention, you'll notice that the hurt doesn't stay alone for very long.
Almost immediately a second feeling moves in right next to it. And this one is much louder. It's the worry about what this moment means for the relationship and whether bringing it up is going to push the avoidant even further away than before. That second feeling is the one most women end up listening to. The hurt is saying, "What just happened was not okay with me."
while the fear is saying, "If I make a big deal out of this, I could lose them." And within a few hours or a day at the most, most women are typing a light and friendly message that has nothing to do with what actually happened. It might be a question about something completely unrelated. A warm, "How's your day going?" or an affectionate tone that quietly announces that everything is fine again. And inside her head, the reasoning sounds very sensible. "I'll bring it up later
once things feel normal between us." Or sometimes it sounds like this. "I don't want to start a whole fight over one thing. So, I'll just let it go this time." So, why does the fear win so easily even when the hurt is completely justified? The reason is that distance right after you've been hurt doesn't feel like distance at all. It feels like real danger to the relationship. The part of you that is attached to this
person reads that silence as a sign that the connection itself is under threat. And the quickest way to make that alarm stop ringing is to get the closeness back by whatever route is fastest. And the fastest route is almost never the honest conversation because the honest conversation carries a risk. The fastest route is warmth because warmth usually gets warmth back. And within an hour the knot in your stomach loosens. So, your
nervous system quietly makes a trade, and it chooses reconnection over repair without ever asking you first. The trouble is what that trade does to the thing that hurt you. Once the warmth is back, whatever happened gets filed away under already handled, even though nobody actually handled it. When you try to raise it a week later, it doesn't feel like addressing a problem anymore.
It feels like reopening something that everyone had agreed to leave behind. And for the avoidant, who would honestly prefer never to have that conversation at all, the outcome is perfect because the closeness came back and nothing was ever asked of them. It works a lot like getting a splinter in your hand and covering it with a bandage because pulling it out would sting. For a day or two, it looks taken care of, and the skin might even start to close over it, but the splinter is still in there. And
every time something presses against that spot, it hurts a little more than it did before. The bandage made the problem invisible, and that's all it ever did. That's the first mistake, and it's a very quiet one. It happens when the fear of losing the connection becomes more urgent than dealing with what damaged the connection in the first place. When that order gets reversed, the relationship starts teaching both of you that the hurt never really needs to be spoken about as long as everyone gets
back to normal quickly enough. So, how many times has something that hurt you never been talked about at all simply because by the time you felt ready to bring it up, everything already looked fine again. None of this means the answer is to go cold. Some women swing to the other side and decide that the avoidant needs to feel the distance. So, they stop replying, or they answer in one-word messages to make a point. It feels like strength in the moment, but
it's really the same mistake wearing a different outfit because it's still about managing the connection instead of addressing what happened. Silence used as punishment gives the avoidant a perfect reason to focus on your coldness and forget what actually happened. And you don't need the opposite either, which is the flood of messages, the long voice notes, and the late-night demand for answers. As you heard at the start of this video, that kind of intensity sends the avoidance walls straight up,
and the original issue gets buried under the reaction to your reaction. What you're aiming for sits right in the middle, and it's simpler than it sounds. You stay civil, you stay yourself, and you don't pretend that everything is fine when it isn't. You let the distance be a little uncomfortable for a while without rushing to fill it with affection you don't actually feel yet.
In practice, that means you stop sending the repair message before any repair has happened. No little heart, no no worries at all, no cheerful question designed to make the tension go away. If the avoidant reaches out first with something casual like, "Hey, how was your day?" you can answer politely and still keep the door open to what matters. You might say, "I'm okay, but I'd like to talk about what happened on Saturday when you have a moment." That
one sentence does two things at once. It tells the avoidant that you're not going to explode or disappear, and it also makes it clear that the issue hasn't quietly evaporated just because time has passed. It's calm, it's short, and it doesn't ask the avoidant to feel guilty.
It simply refuses to pretend. It also helps to have one sentence ready for yourself for the moment when the urge to smooth things over gets strong. Something like, "This distance is uncomfortable, but it is not an emergency." Most women discover that the panic peaks within the first day, and then it settles enough for them to think clearly about what they actually want to say. And that clarity is exactly what you need before you speak to the avoidant, because rushing the
conversation is almost as risky as skipping it. Give yourself enough time to be able to describe what happened in a couple of calm sentences without the shaking in your voice or the paragraph-long explanation. Closeness that comes back before the problem has been addressed doesn't repair anything at all. It just makes the problem much easier for both of you to ignore. But once you've decided not to smooth it over, you still have to open your mouth and say something. And the way most
women word that very first sentence decides whether the avoidant hears a request or an attack. When most women finally do bring it up, the first sentence usually comes out carrying all the weight of everything that has been building up. It sounds something like, "You're so emotionally unavailable." Or, "You only ever think about yourself."
Or, "You honestly don't care about anyone but you." And in that moment, it feels like the truest thing you could possibly say, because it's the sum of every disappointment so far. The problem is, what happens inside the avoidant the second those words land. A sentence like, "You're selfish." isn't heard as information about Saturday night. It's heard as a verdict on the avoidant's whole identity. And nobody, avoidant or not, calmly accepts a verdict like that.
So, instead of thinking about Saturday night, the avoidant starts building a defense. You've probably seen exactly how that defense sounds. "That's not fair. So, I'm a terrible person now? I can't do anything right with you."
Within 2 minutes, the conversation is no longer about the canceled plans at all. It has turned into a debate about whether the avoidant is a good or a bad person. And that is a debate you will never win. Because the avoidant only needs to find one example of being kind to feel like the case is closed. Have you ever walked away from one of those conversations and realized that you somehow ended up apologizing for the way you brought it up? That's what happens when the subject shifts from the
behavior to the person. The avoidant gets to defend a reputation, which is easy, instead of looking at a specific action, which is uncomfortable. And the thing that hurt you slips away without ever being examined. It's a little like taking your car to a mechanic and telling them that the whole car is garbage. The mechanic can't do anything with that, and they'll probably just get defensive about the car. But, if you say that there's a grinding noise when you brake at low speed, now there's
something real to look at. And nobody has to argue about whether the car is good or bad. So, the shift here is very simple, even though it takes some discipline. Instead of describing who the avoidant is, you describe what the avoidant did. You stick to the actual events in the order they happened, the way a friend would describe them if she had been watching from across the room.
Here's what that can sound like in a real conversation. We made plans for Saturday. You canceled without telling me, and I didn't hear from you until the following afternoon. That sentence has no insult or label in it, and it's still completely clear. There is very little in there for the avoidant to argue with, because every part of it simply happened. Compare that to you always do this, which invites the avoidant to remember the three times they didn't, and the conversation is suddenly about
counting instead of about Saturday. Then, you add the second half, which is the impact on you. That made me feel like my time wasn't being respected. Notice that this is still about one specific moment and one specific feeling, not about the entire relationship. You're not saying you never respect me. You're saying that this particular thing landed in this particular way. When you put those two halves together, you're no longer asking the avoidant to accept a diagnosis of
personality. You're asking for an acknowledgement of one action and its consequence, which is a much smaller and much more reasonable request. And it's a lot harder to walk away from a reasonable request without looking unreasonable. There's another quiet benefit to talking this way. And it's for you. When you describe the behavior instead of the character, you keep the conversation fair and grounded in something both of you can look at together. You can't be accused of being
dramatic or harsh, because all you did was describe what happened and say how it felt. It also protects you from a trap that catches a lot of women later on. When the conversation becomes a fight about character, it usually ends with the avoidant saying something like, "Fine. I'm just a bad partner then." and walking away. Most women then rest of the night trying to reassure the avoidant that nobody called anyone a bad partner and the original issue is