PROFILEUNBOUND

I Want Connection, But I Flinch When Someone Gets Too Close 

Wanting Closeness and Still Pulling Away 

You want to be known. You want to feel close to someone. And then, the moment it starts to happen, something shifts. Your body tenses. Your thoughts scatter. You smile, maybe even lean in, but inside, you’re already halfway out the door.

It’s confusing. You’re not trying to push anyone away. You’re not trying to sabotage connection. But the reflex is real. And it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your body is trying to protect you.

 When Intimacy Feels Like a Setup 

Closeness doesn’t always feel comforting. Sometimes it feels like pressure. Sometimes it feels like exposure. Sometimes it feels like a trap.

If you’ve been hurt in relationships that were supposed to be safe, your nervous system learns to associate warmth with risk. Even when someone’s being kind, your body might brace. Not because you don’t want connection, but because you’ve learned to be careful with it.

The Flinch Isn’t a Problem to Fix 

That moment when you pull back? It’s not sabotage. It’s a boundary.

Your nervous system isn’t confused. It’s consistent. It’s responding to patterns it’s seen before. And if closeness used to mean danger, it’s going to take time to unlearn that.

You’re not failing at connection. You’re pacing it.

What This Response Feels Like 

It might show up as tight shoulders. Shallow breath. A sudden urge to change the subject. You might feel like you’re bracing for something, even when nothing’s wrong.

You might say, “I want this, but it feels like too much,” or “I don’t know why I’m pulling away.” That’s not drama. That’s data. Your body’s telling you something.

 A Moment That Says It All 

A client says, “I know they care about me, but I keep waiting for the moment it turns.”

They’re not in danger. They’re not being harmed. But their nervous system hasn’t exhaled.

This is the moment to name the tension, not to fix it, but to understand it.

 Questions That Make It Less Confusing 

Instead of asking, “Why do I keep messing this up?” you might ask, “What does closeness remind me of?” or “What part of me doesn’t feel safe right now?”

These questions don’t erase the discomfort. But they make it less lonely.

 How to Say It Without Apologizing 

If you’re in therapy, or any relationship, where connection feels complicated, you’re allowed to name it.

You might say, “I want to let this in, but something in me feels unsure.” Or, “I’m not rejecting you. I’m just noticing what’s coming up.”

That kind of honesty doesn’t push people away. It builds trust.

You’re Not Broken. You’re Protecting Something Important

Wanting connection and flinching when it arrives isn’t a contradiction. It’s a rhythm.

You’re allowed to want closeness and need space. You’re allowed to go slow. You’re allowed to feel unsure.

Connection doesn’t have to be rushed. It can be earned. It can be layered. And it can be received, on your terms.