Do You Idolize Your Crushes? You Might Have a Fear of Commitment

I used to be a cross-country runner. And for a while, I was pretty good at it. I would focus on the next step. And then the next. Another ten yards, and then another. One foot in front of the other. A prayer for every heartbeat; the finish line will come.

When you have a destination, stopping early isn’t an option. You stop when you finish. There is no journey. There’s only an end. 

Without realizing it, I’ve been treating relationships the same way. 

I know the script like the back of my hand. I can visualize the arc in my head: the exposition, action, and conclusion. A confession as a happy ending. The butterflies and the fantasies. I see the love story unfold in front of me. 

I know the chase. 

But once the chase is over, and I reach the destination, it’s over. I’m lost.

More than lost — bored.

Around my freshman year of college, I vaguely started to piece together that I like the idea of relationships rather than the relationships themselves. Freshly out of the closet, I was mostly rationalizing these feelings alongside my monthly bisexuality crisis. (Maybe I’m actually gay? Maybe I’m actually straight?) It wasn’t until I watched Anna Akana’s “Signs you’re scared of commitment” video that I realized this was more of a fear issue than a sexuality issue. 

Let’s go over these “signs” to see if we’re on the same page. 

1. “You have a long, elaborate list for your ideal person.”

2. “You’re very interested… until they are.” 

3. “You haven’t healed from past relationship trauma.”

4. “You cultivate a large network of various friend groups and a busy work life, essentially leaving no room for dating.”

5. “You back out of dates last-minute frequently.”

6. “You blow hot and cold in the dating game in general.”

7. “You stay in relationships that are chaotic, clearly going nowhere, or you go from one short-lived relationship to the next.”

8. “You think your married friends settled, and their lives must be boring.”

9. “You cling to this idea that freedom can only exist when you’re single and that relationships are a prison.”

If some of these signs “personally attacked” you (looking at #2, #6, and #7), then congratulations! You might have a fear of commitment. And if this idea seems earth-shattering and inexplicable, then don’t worry; you’re not alone. As a romance fanatic, I have consumed galaxies of rom-coms, love triangles, and “ships” throughout my lifetime. Ever since watching Cinderella, I have seemingly always craved a Prince Charming of my own (or Princess, or otherwise a Royal Highness). So it was a shock to discover that maybe, I didn’t actually want the happily ever after. Maybe wanting the ideal person wasn’t the same as wanting a relationship.  

If you’re like me, you probably equate stable, healthy relationships with boredom. You idolize your crush and think that they’re most attractive when they’re pulling away from you. Your favorite romance stories feature some sort of painful longing and some sort of comforting, dramatic confession.

In short, you associate love with complications. Childhood attachment styles might explain why. 

All roads in psychology seem to lead back to our childhoods, and romantic issues can also find roots in early development as well. The four attachment styles as described by researchers like Bartholomew, Horowitz, Shaver, and Hazan vary slightly in their names but retain the same basic meaning. For consistency’s sake, let’s classify these styles as secure, anxious (or anxious-preoccupied), avoidant (or dismissive-avoidant), and fearful-avoidant. 

A secure childhood attachment style generally reflects a healthy upbringing. If a child expresses a need, their caregiver reacts appropriately and provides it for them. Their emotions are treated with sensitivity and love. Naturally, as they grow older, they likely seek out romantic relationships that are healthy and feature partners responding to others’ needs. 

An avoidant (or dismissive-avoidant) attachment style can manifest from an “insecure-avoidant” childhood. When a child reaches out in distress, their caregiver rejects their attention. The child may then learn to minimize their negative feelings or avoid their caregiver when they are experiencing distress. The child is then forced to take care of themselves. In adulthood, people with avoidant attachment styles might have “negative views of romantic partners” and “strive to create and maintain independence” in their relationships. 

An anxious (or anxious-preoccupied) attachment style involves “emotional hunger,” which Dr. Robert Firestone describes as a “strong emotional need caused by deprivation in childhood.” An adult with this attachment style may have developed “negative self-views” in their early development — possibly through their home, school, or social environments. People with anxious attachment styles generally feel “nervous and less secure” in their romantic relationships, require “constant stroking of love and validation to feel secure,” and respond “negatively when not provided with regular positive reinforcement.”

They also might be “[d]rama oriented” and have a “[h]istory of emotionally turbulent relationships.” (Sound familiar?) 

Adults with strong fearful-avoidant attachment styles have traits that are similar to both dismissive-avoidant and anxious-preoccupied adults. They simultaneously crave and resist intimacy, which causes a lot of inner conflict. This style is often “associated with highly challenging life experiences such as grief, abandonment and abuse.” Naturally, adults with this style face a lot of “emotional storms” and can be “unpredictable in their moods.” 

I am not a psychologist, so I definitely cannot associate myself or anyone else with these attachment styles (or even prove their validity). However, I can say that I relate with all of these attachment styles in some way or another. As I continue to go to therapy, I feel myself drift more and more towards the “secure attachment” style. Because I see some of my traits in both the avoidant and anxious styles, I have wondered if I’ve previously had a mild fearful-avoidant attachment. 

Overall, though, I know my current fear of commitment is mainly rooted in the anxious style. And if you clicked on this article, yours might be, too. 

I’m friendly with almost all of my exes, and I’ve never consciously or purposefully tried to cause pain, but I’m definitely guilty of romanticizing drama or complaining about not feeling a “spark” in otherwise perfect relationships. Often when I feel hurt or lonely, I imagine a crush rescuing me. Sometimes I imagine rescuing a crush. I use love to seek “safety and security,” and I put a lot of weight on that fantasy. 

It’s hard for a realistic, imperfect person to meet all those expectations. And intense feelings along with intense insecurity (even if you try to avoid acting like it externally) usually end in intense pain. 

The other downside to an emotionally hungry imagination is that you can feel the monumental weight of that fantasy. You know how much insecurity and validation is riding on that comfort. And imagining someone else feeling that way about you can be terrifying. Overwhelming. 

With the impossible expectations, intense heartbreak, and immense pressure to provide a fantasy when someone reciprocates, it’s natural that some of us want to avoid relationships. We might idealize the comfort, security, and sensuality that comes with romance, but when it comes to real love, we’re confused or panicked. 

Romantic love isn’t drama and turbulence and subtle circles of insecurity and validation. It’s warmth and stability and steady happiness. It takes time to build. 

So the next time you’re not feeling “the chemistry” but can’t explain why maybe stick it out for a few more dates. My last relationship was probably the healthiest I’ve ever had, and although I didn’t fall in love, I might have gotten there in time. All it took was understanding that healthy emotional depth requires patience. 

A relationship is not a chase towards a destination. It’s a foundation laid brick by brick.