When the Story Protects You (But Costs the Relationship): How Anxious Attachment in Adult Children Can Create Distance

They say they needed space.
They say they were always walking on eggshells.
They say you never really saw them.
And maybe some of that is true.
But sometimes… the story they tell isn’t the whole story.
Sometimes it’s the version that protects them—from guilt, from responsibility, from the
discomfort of not being perfect… or not being in control.
Adult children with anxious attachment often feel things deeply, urgently.
They crave closeness—but only on terms they feel emotionally safe in. And when they don’t feel
in control of how that closeness unfolds, they can retreat in dramatic or cutting ways.
One of my clients has a daughter who’s a trained psychologist, who works in Forensic
Psychology.
She knows the language. She knows the theory.
And yet, in the family, he’s the one who constantly plays the victim.
When things feel hard, she rewrites the past—casting herself as wounded, misunderstood,
unfairly burdened.
She keeps everyone at a distance by wrapping her withdrawal in intellectual righteousness.
Another client has a son diagnosed with borderline personality disorder.
When things feel too emotionally intense, he pulls away and punishes her with silence.
Then, he explains his absence by telling himself—and others—that she was “too much,” “too
controlling,” “never satisfied.”
It’s not that they don’t feel hurt.
It’s not that they don’t have wounds.
But anxious attachment can convince someone that the only way to feel safe is to control the
narrative.
And when you're anxious, one of the easiest ways to soothe your own discomfort… is to blame.
That blame becomes the story:
“I had to leave because they’re toxic.”
“I never felt truly loved.”
“They don’t respect boundaries.”
“I’m protecting my peace.”

And maybe they are.
But sometimes what they’re really protecting… is their image of themselves.
Sometimes they’re not running from a harmful parent—they’re running from the unbearable
shame of not knowing how to be close without chaos.
This doesn’t make them bad.
It makes them human.
But it also makes relationships incredibly fragile when one person can’t—or won’t—examine the
role their own anxiety plays in the breakdown.
Distance becomes a defense.
And the story justifies it.
If you’re a parent watching this happen, it can feel infuriating and heartbreaking.
You want to scream, that’s not how it happened!
You want to fix it.
You want them to remember who you really were, not the character you’ve become in their
carefully edited version.
But here’s the hardest part:
You may never change the story they tell.
You can only anchor yourself in the truth you know.
And if there’s ever a door left open for conversation—not confrontation—then maybe, just
maybe, you meet them there with both honesty and boundaries.
Because loving someone doesn’t mean accepting the role they’ve assigned you in their narrative.
It means honoring the real story—yours and theirs—even when they don’t match.

Warmly,
Molly A. Summers, P.C.C.
Life Coach & Author

Thank you for spending this time with me inside The Attachment Style Journal.
I hope these words remind you that your attachment style is not your whole story — and you don’t have to navigate change alone.

If you’d like more gentle support, my virtual coaching and self-guided book are here for you anytime.

Schedule your free call or explore my books at coachingwithmollysummers.com.