Why we fear love

It is an extremely curious idea that love, the one thing that we crave the most and fantasize about in our time alone might frighten us. That all of us, to some degree operate with a fear of engulfment. 

The arrival of love should ostensibly always be a matter of celebration. Let us imagine, after a few months that circle into years, along comes what we might call a nice person. They're mature. They're kind. They ask questions and listens to our vents at the end of the day. So we dove in at high speed, bored of the usual banter regarding favorite colors or ice cream flavors. We quickly exchanged I love yous and even have mentioned marriage and the delicate conversation of children. So, as any new couple, they go on a number of excursions. Maybe the Angel Falls, a weekend getaway in Lake Como then a trip to Morroco. Introductions are made to friends from work, to a distant aunt, to a regular invitation to family parties, where their family become ours. There is laughter, the exchange of keys to each other's apartments, deep conversations under the stars and a sense of satisfaction, a blissful sigh after finding home. We throttle along enthusiastically along all these new ideas, as we sing alongside them in Karaoke late into the evening when a sudden cloud of discomfort thunders upon the mind of one of the two parties, the lover who is fearful of lover. Much to our embarrassment, we are feeling a bit queasy.

The fear does not manifest itself as fear, exactly. We are a mixture of numb, nauseous and frighten, all without apparent cause. For a time, it is strategically managed by lowering of the relationship temperature. A sudden bout of missed calls followed by unanswered texts, urgent need to visit friends or manufactured arguments that ruins the intimacy of the subsequent evenings followed by fabricated trips to the ER due to unexplainable reasons. Subtle attempts to ensure that love cannot deepen, that dependence is hindered, that a home is carefully dismantled at the same time it is assembled.

Because to such a lover, love is viewed upon as the end of the world, where all freedom and independence is stomped upon by our lovers fondness for us in calling us ridiculous names or their enthusiasm in adopting a cat together. 

The difficulty lies in how monstrously absurd and impossible our message to them is. We would ideally like them to love us a bit less in order we be able to reciprocate their feelings. We wish they could be a little more distracted, a little busier, a little negligent, a bit less responsive. Could they be somewhat meaner? 

We find the cause of such in no other place but our childhoods. This is somewhat of a logical panic where we've come from. In order to survive, we once had to put up a very high wall between ourselves and anyone who dared to come closer. We might be quite funny and charming, and might sincerely crave company but we made independence and refusal to rely on anyone a central feature of ourself. We had no choice.
Let us imagine an individual whose home life was filled with quarrels from a rageful father, or profanities being spewed by a mentally ill mother who later vanished and perhaps, married a friend. Neglectful figures who failed to provide emotional care and meet the needs of a growing child at home. Hence, growing up, we got used to this subpar level of getting our needs met, where one never truly expected more from figures in their past, that we never dared imagine what life would be at the next stage.
But now, as an adult, being surrounded by people who so willing to shower us with all the affection and joy one could be on the receiving end of, we are feeling a bit sick. An awakening that it is all indigestible. The goodness simply cannot be swallowed.

Something comparable might have occurred to the lover, who cannot love. Someone who has never been loved properly, their emotional needs having shrunk to the starvation of the same. Yes, we dream of being in a healthy relationship where we do not run away from affection and do not hold it against those who like us, the deprived always do but will nevertheless, wretch at the sight.
Our nausea is an understandable panic at having to surrender to the suspicion and independence that got us through life until now; at surrounding this paranoia that made us survive, 

A conclusion soon forms in our minds--We must get out. Very fast. We might pick up on something halfway believable to legitimate an ending. We tell ourselves that our partner is very controlling, despite seeming nice, they barely call us when we are away on vacation or make the effort to plan out dates, they do not like us enough to even hold our hand. Excuses we know are fully untrue yet completely plausible to our starved heart.

These accusations bear the imprints of their opposites. They can be read as desperate, puzzled and distressed on part of the unwell lover's unconscious mind. Feelings we have considered to be so foul, and unimaginable that we are willing to throw away the relationship, before we even consider the alternative. What the hell is one supposed to do with trust? What is one meant to do with kindness? How can one handle Affection?

Yes, these are highly desirable yet entirely alien properties to the undernourished lover. The mere presence of this kicks off this acute fear of loss. What if our lover vanishes overnight? How is one supposed to survive disappearance now? It would quite literally kill one.

So, better than to instigate loss oneself than see it unfold hideously outside of our own volition. I must fire rather than be fired. I must block before I get blocked. I must deny my feelings for one so fondness cannot grow. A lover who is afraid of love goes about priming the ruptures. Affairs, betrayal of trust, last minute cancelations, disappearance online disguised by a plethora of fabricated anecdotes. Everything to ensure love cannot bloom anywhere they set foot.

If questioned by their concerned and terrified lovers, they play the victim, posing as if it is their awful partners fault for the ruptures--"It is your fault","You do not trust me anymore," "You don't even understand me." And they vanish.

In a classic case of an avoidant discord, a partner can blow up a perfectly healthy relationship in the span of a few days, sometimes hours. Social media highlights are changed instantly, our ex's contact info erased like the department of education, maybe even hopping back into the dating apps without a thought of regret. The love never happened. Because in our minds, we have assured ourselves that it wouldn't have worked out anyways, their friends were absurd, they lived too far away or had contrasting interests to ours.

It takes a very calm and steady mind, rightfully so to not fracture or brood upon when one is on the receiving end of this. One is being accused, instructed to go away on the bases of something one has not done by someone they adore, who is denying they are up to anything.

There is hope in this though, hope that we try to grip the fear of engulfment and try to tame it. We need to find a way, however halting, to discuss what's going on. "I do not hate you, I am just a bit strange," "Love when returned, feels alarming," Difficult conversations that must be discussed. A decent partner  can understand a lot when given a chance. We need some practical steps too: Every night together won't be a good idea. Not sharing a bed is fine. We can carefully explain our choices that this isn't a fear of loving, it is about our dread of dissolving. We're doing this not because we do not care, but because we care so very much, so much so that it is tied with a horror of losing our capacity to survive alone. 

We need to strive to be fair; This is both of our problems. 

Contrastingly though, it becomes important to understand that there are some core truths in this. We have been discarded because love was too terrifying to those who have never been loved as children. We have been thrown away not because we were horrible, rather far from it. We have been thrown away because we were not horrible enough, we were punished for being affectionate towards people who at their very cores feel unworthy of affection.

-Sahana