Navigating Friendships Amid Trauma and Limerence
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Understanding the Impact of Trauma on Friendships
Throughout my life, friendships have come and gone, which is often seen as a natural progression. People tend to bond over shared interests, but as circumstances change—such as moving to new cities, changing jobs, or starting new schools—relationships can fade. I sometimes envy those with lifelong friendships, from childhood through college, and wonder what it must feel like to have a stable circle of friends. However, I recognize that I've faced my own set of challenges due to my history with trauma and limerence. These issues can lead to various problems that affect one’s ability to cultivate and sustain friendships, including avoidance behaviors, difficulties in trusting others, challenges in articulating needs, heightened vigilance, mood fluctuations, and the experience of triggers and flashbacks.
One of my main struggles in friendships is avoidance. While I genuinely enjoy spending time with friends, I also require significant alone time to work through my past. The emotional labor involved in therapy consumes a lot of my energy, which detracts from what I can offer in friendships. Additionally, I’ve grappled with dysfunctional patterns, such as limerence and familial pressure, which have diverted my focus from nurturing healthy relationships. Fortunately, I’m becoming aware of these patterns and am actively working to address them. Most importantly, I’ve learned to forgive myself for potentially harming or losing friendships due to my avoidant behaviors and dysfunctional tendencies. Now, I can focus on the individuals in my life who I consciously choose to engage with, striving for a healthier balance.
The Cycle of Avoidance and Limerence
My tendency towards avoidance often manifests in my friendships, especially when I become fixated on a romantic interest—this state is known as limerence. This obsession can be overwhelming, leading me to escape into a fantasy rather than engaging with friends. Instead of reaching out to friends for social interactions, I would find myself preoccupied with thoughts of my crush. I became less responsive to messages, canceled plans without follow-up, and wasted a lot of mental energy that could have been spent on maintaining those friendships. As Anna Runkle points out, individuals experiencing limerence frequently find themselves alone during significant occasions, like birthdays and holidays, because all their emotional investment is directed towards their fantasies. When these events arose, I often realized how long it had been since I last interacted with my friends, highlighting my absence and disconnect.
In moments of limerence, I noticed a tendency to attract others who were also emotionally wounded. During these times, I had little to offer in terms of emotional support. The people drawn to me were often avoidant or preoccupied themselves, so they didn’t mind my lack of communication for extended periods. Unfortunately, this cycle perpetuated my isolation from healthier friendships. Eventually, I recognized that my social circle had dwindled, comprised mainly of my limerent object and a few loose acquaintances. This realization prompted me to take action to change my situation. Nowadays, I am more aware when friends withdraw due to their own struggles. I’ve developed a deeper understanding of these moments, acknowledging that everyone faces their own battles, and I welcome the chance to reconnect when they are ready.
Isolation and Emotional Sensitivity
Trauma often fosters feelings of isolation. During challenging periods in my life, connecting with friends whose lives seemed stable and fulfilling was particularly difficult. Conversations frequently revolved around enjoyable topics like travel and hobbies, while I was preoccupied with family conflicts and past traumas. I chose not to burden my friends with my struggles, opting to remain silent, even though my thoughts were racing. This disconnect left me feeling estranged from the happiness of those around me, leading to a desire to retreat into solitude to process my emotions.
This avoidance often resulted in missed opportunities for connection, which I now regret. Thankfully, consistent therapy sessions have helped me learn to express my feelings more openly and process my experiences through journaling. My therapist has provided valuable insights that allow me to navigate my emotions more effectively. As I’ve worked through these feelings, I’ve found that I no longer rely on friends as makeshift therapists and can focus on enjoying activities with them instead.
Breaking Free from Self-Isolation
I’ve also recognized that some of my self-isolating tendencies stemmed from my upbringing. A notable example was my instinct to end phone calls with friends after an hour, driven by a fear of creating conflict. This behavior developed from my childhood experiences, where my mother's anxiety often led to her interrupting my conversations. The constant interruptions instilled in me a sense of urgency to end calls prematurely, which persisted long after I had moved out. Understanding this pattern allowed me to release the need to limit my social interactions and embrace the time I could spend with friends.
As I began to establish boundaries and prioritize my needs, I noticed a shift in my ability to foster friendships. The trauma I experienced often drew me towards others with similar backgrounds. Having played the role of therapist for my parents, I found myself doing the same for friends, sharing advice and insights even when they hadn’t asked for it. While offering support can be beneficial, I learned that unsolicited advice can unintentionally signal that someone isn't good enough as they are, potentially alienating friends instead of helping them.
Moving Towards Healthier Connections
The most constructive approach is to accept friends as they are. If they seek guidance, they will reach out. By modeling healthy behaviors, setting clear boundaries, and living authentically, I can inspire my friends without being overbearing or judgmental. As Anna Runkle notes, caring for myself sends a powerful message. Friends will approach me when they’re ready to discuss changes in their lives, and if they desire similar transformations, they will ask.
I'm embracing a new chapter in my friendship journey. I have come to understand how trauma and dysfunctional patterns—like limerence and avoidance—affect my ability to engage with friends meaningfully. I’ve carried shame about these behaviors for years, but now I recognize that they stem from my trauma and a lack of support for my mental health. It’s not my fault, and I’m learning to extend compassion towards myself for navigating these challenges.
Reflecting on Past Friendships
I mourn some friendships that didn’t endure, whether due to my own dysfunction, misunderstandings, or the struggles others faced. Yet, I also forgive myself for the friendships that may have been harmed by my behaviors. I understand that I distanced myself to protect my emotional well-being, to avoid triggers, and to focus on my own myriad issues. Now, I’m committed to nurturing the relationships that matter, consciously choosing to engage with individuals who contribute positively to my life.
Appendix
Living with trauma has heightened my sensitivity to certain individuals. Emotionally sensitive people often excel at mirroring emotions, which can facilitate social interactions. However, I’ve encountered individuals who drain my emotional energy, leaving me exhausted after even brief encounters. While these individuals may seem polite, I often find myself depleted and struggling to recover afterward. Recognizing this, I’ve set boundaries to protect my well-being and understand that I cannot maintain friendships with those who exhaust me emotionally.