08/01/2026
Have you ever been on the receiving end of words that cut deeply, only to be left wondering if the other person even realised what they’d done?
Avoidant patterns can be brutal at times.
Not always intentionally, but brutal nonetheless.
When an avoidant nervous system is overwhelmed, language can turn sharp.
Cold.
Dismissing.
Dehumanising.
Things get said that land like character assassinations.
“You can’t love.”
“You’re the problem.”
“You’re narcissistic.”
I’ve heard those words, and for a long time I tried to make sense of them through labels.
Narcissist.
Avoidant.
This or that diagnosis, but I’m stepping away from that now.
Because labels often shut down curiosity rather than open it.
What I see more clearly is this.
This isn’t evil, it isn’t always malice.
It’s trauma speaking through a dysregulated nervous system.
When someone has learned that closeness equals danger, their system goes into protection mode fast.
Fight doesn’t always look like shouting.
Sometimes it looks like cutting someone down to create distance.
If I make you the problem, I don’t have to feel the fear underneath.
If I attack your character, I regain control of my nervous system.
That doesn’t make it okay, and it doesn’t mean you should tolerate it.
Understanding the why doesn’t erase the impact.
But reframing it as a specific kind of trauma response helps me hold my ground without becoming bitter.
It allows me to step out of the blame game, and it stops me internalising words that were never actually about me.
So instead of saying “they’re a narcissist,” I now say this.
That was a trauma driven reaction from a nervous system that couldn’t tolerate intimacy in that moment.
And then I ask the more important question.
Is this a nervous system I can safely be in relationship with?
Because compassion doesn’t require self abandonment, and clarity is often the most regulated response of all.