A woman I work with and deeply admire recently asked me something I can’t stop thinking about.
She said, “Why do I feel so frozen when someone might actually choose me? Why do I want it so badly, but also panic when it’s real? I want to be seen and chosen. But I also feel terrified that if I am, I’ll lose everything. That the moment I get what I want, I’ll disappear.”
She knows this comes from her childhood. From being the good girl. From being placed under a set of operations and conditions that dictate closeness.
To step into adulthood—especially radiant, desired, admired womanhood—would mean separating from all that. Taking on our full adult role means becoming invisible to some of the most important people to us when we are from a dysfunctional system. So often we feel ‘forced out’ by our families of origin or our long time partners because our maturing becomes an enormous threat. We are forced into painful choosing.
And that, in her body, still feels like betrayal.
And she’s doing so much work.
Reading. Exploring. Naming. Asking beautiful questions about men, about mutual fear, about the cost of finally being the chosen one.
But here’s what I see in many women who reach this familiar place of awakening…
She’s still in “trying mode.”
Trying to understand.
Trying to be safe.
Trying to get healing right so she can finally let go and be loved.
And trying mode is the opposite of invitation.
Trying is how we find ourselves very lonely and just in a cleaner version of our old trap.
The authentic core of any person doesn’t need to try.
Trying is a defense. A strategy. A posture of, “Let me explain why I’m worthy so you can prove it back to me.”
But love can’t land in that.
Even the most open people will sense the conditionality. They’ll feel your almost-yes and then your back up hesitation—not because they’re avoidant, but because there’s no place to land.
People don’t attach to trying.
They respond to clarity.
To embodiment.
To invitation.
To the quiet, unwavering energy of a person who knows they are already worthy. It’s the body, not your words that needs to convey…
“I want to be met. I will feel it. I will let it move me. And I will not collapse if you can’t yet.”
I know this not because I read it—but because I’ve lived it.
I’m watching a man I care about transform in real time—not because I begged or taught or therapized him and especially not because I mothered or shamed him—but because I kept offering him my truth without abandoning my openness.
I told the truth about my reactions.
I allowed my body, my language and my willingness to show my limits.
But I didn’t use those truths to punish, withdraw, or dominate.
I didn’t say, “This is what I need. Can you give it to me so I know what to do?”
I let my standard be known through my way of being—and stayed available to feel him trying.
That’s what he responded to. Not pressure. Not perfection. Not performance.
But presence.
Carl Jung wrote:
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
But here’s the part no one tells you:
Bringing something to consciousness doesn’t mean it’s integrated.
You can name the shadow, write about it, explain your shame—and still not let love in.
Because you haven’t yet felt safe enough to embody your desire.
And sometimes, that’s not even your fault.
Sometimes the person in front of you isn’t safe.
Sometimes the container isn’t clear.
Sometimes your nervous system is telling the truth: “It’s not time yet.”
But other times…
You’re just waiting for a level of certainty that no other person can ever really give you.
You want to be chosen before you offer your yes.
But other people need to feel your yes to know they are safe to attach.
In all the finger pointing of calling each other “avoidant” we rarely stop and really ask ourselves - am I the one triggering this dance in some way?
It’s not your fault if you don’t know how to do this.
Most of us have never seen deep connection that isn’t enmeshed modeled.
We’ve seen chase. Or collapse. Or perform. Or wait.
But we rarely see anyone root into their body and say:
“This is what I want. I’m not afraid to want it. And I’m not going to abandon myself if you hesitate.”
That energy doesn’t control, but it leads.
It doesn’t beg, but it invites.
It doesn’t hide its standard, but it doesn’t make anyone prove themselves before offering warmth either.
It is high bar, open heart.
It is exacting and forgiving.
It is, in a word, safe.
And that safety is what makes people (all across your life) move.
If you’re caught between sadness and shame—if you find yourself longing to be claimed by community and by love, but terrified of what it will cost—please know that’s not weakness.
It’s the echo of your first attachment.
It’s the shadow of the inner child who was only allowed to be loved if they stayed small.
But you are not a child anymore.
You get to want things. You get to be visible.
You get to be chosen because you are not hiding.
And when your body believes that—you don’t have to try anymore.
What you want will feel it and arrive.
I write primarily to support my small business, christinaelaine.com
I am a somatic coach, writer, and curriculum creator writing about the interior life of modern relating, weekly on Medium & Substack. I also host interviews on YouTube.