Blame, Empathy, and Attachment
No-fault assurance.
When something goes wrong in your life, what do you think?
“I can’t believe this is happening. What did I do?,” or
“I can’t believe this is happening. What were they thinking?,” or
“I can’t believe this is happening. I wonder what the smartest next step might be?”
I’ve lived my whole life in option #1: whenever something goes wrong in my life, it must be because I screwed up or failed in some way.
Even long-term frustrations or discomforts get assigned to my personal failings.
A voice inside me says “if you could just fix yourself it would all get better.”
My fault, your fault, nobody’s fault.
So that’s my thing: like Kurt Cobain, I found my nest of salt and everything’s my fault.
Other people I know immediately look at others when something less than ideal goes down.
They see themselves as blameless by default and therefore conclude that anything bad must have been caused by someone else’s foolishness.
Then there are those who don’t necessarily leap to judgement, on themselves or others. They remain curious even in the face of tough and painful situations.
I’d say those three reactions roughly map to three different attachment styles:
Anxiously attached people will blame themselves
Avoidantly attached people will blame others
Securely attached people will be curious about what’s happening and seek solutions
For the anxiously attached, the constant fear of not being loved means needing to monitor everything you do because a single mistake could cost you everything — so self-blame is adaptive, since it keeps you in check.
For avoidantly attached people, your boundaries could be violated at any moment so you need to ensure no one does something that will threaten your autonomy — blaming others and keeping them at a distance renders you safe.
I think both anxiously and avoidantly attached people struggle to respond adaptively to difficult situations because they never learned a basic, critical skill: empathy.
Empathy is available when you’re not in mortal danger.
Why is empathy so important when it comes to conflict and tough moments?
It allows you to see things from the perspective of the other people involved. And also from your own perspective (which for me is often much tougher).
The securely attached are generally much more able to have that kind of empathy for all parties in a conflict.
Why? Are they Zen monks who are never ruffled by life?
Nope. But they learned from an early age that they are safely and securely loved, so they don’t feel like they’re constantly in danger of losing everything.
When you’re not in urgent danger, you can stay open to what’s actually happening and consider your options.
Blame is a game with no winners.
My need to assign blame when something bad happens is itself a little weird.
Is someone really “to blame”? And if so, what does assigning that blame actually accomplish?
Interpersonal relationships aren’t like the legal system. You don’t get to send someone to relationship jail if they acted in a way that was unkind or selfish.
In fact, I’d say people are rarely blameworthy when they act out.
Their actions hurt them as much as you, whether they can see that or not. The same is true of me or you when we act unkindly.
The approach of my (admittedly idealized) securely attached person — looking at the situation with curiosity, empathizing with everyone involved, and exploring solutions that will maximize happiness and safety — is just better.
Where are all the secure normies hanging out?
I think most of the people I know struggle with difficult feelings of unworthiness or anger or frustration. Most of my friends are, I’m pretty sure, insecurely attached — some anxiously and some avoidantly.
This may not be surprising. I’m drawn to people who struggle like I do.
I’m also blown away by the idea of securely attached people, who are okay most of the time and feel safe and loved.
Even though the experts say these folks make up 50-60% of the population, I don’t seem to run into them. Ever.
This may be because they are drawn to people like themselves as well.
They tend to get married a lot earlier in life, and stay married, and have a strong community of people around them.
They don’t really need an anxious or avoidant neurotic in their life, because their needs are met.
Secure attachment can be earned (or so I’ve heard).
I’m happy for those secure weirdos humans. I also want what they’ve got, and I think the work I’ve been doing in therapy and via reading and study over the last six or seven years boils down to an attempt to be more secure.
I’ve made progress. Even being able to write a piece like this, in which I acknowledge my own tendencies but don’t necessarily buy into the basic premise that I’m to blame, feels like a step forward.
The more secure I feel in myself, the more able I am to empathize with my struggle and with the struggles of others. The less I feel the need to assign blame to anyone.
It’s a lifelong job, though. I backslide all the time, and notice that I’ve fallen into old habits.
When I do get further up the hill, the view is beautiful.
It’s so much easier to love other people and yourself when you don’t see them through the lens of danger and blame.