By Eadaoinn Sweeney
We’re often told that avoiding something means we’re not dealing with it, that if we haven’t
confronted a feeling, a person, or a situation immediately, then we’re simply postponing the
inevitable. And perhaps, sometimes, that’s true. But what if avoidance isn’t always a form of
denial? What if, sometimes, it’s a form of self-respect?
There’s a difference between running away from something because we’re afraid to face it
and consciously choosing not to let it occupy space in our lives. Perhaps the problem isn’t
avoidance itself, but our inability to distinguish between the two.
Out of sight, out of mind.
We tend to use this expression dismissively, as though choosing not to see something is the
same as pretending it doesn’t exist. But there’s something to be said about being intentional
with what we surround ourselves with. We are, to some extent, what we consume: the content
we scroll through, the music we listen to, the conversations we entertain, and the people we
allow into our lives. Constantly exposing ourselves to things that leave us feeling inadequate,
anxious, or disconnected from who we are doesn’t necessarily make us stronger. Sometimes,
it simply makes us more accustomed to feeling that way.
Of course, we cannot live our lives to the point where nothing ever challenges us, and we
shouldn’t. Not every uncomfortable conversation is toxic, and not every person who
disagrees with us deserves to be cut off. There’s a fine line between protecting your peace
and protecting your ego. Boundaries should never become an excuse to dismiss other
people’s feelings, avoid accountability, or expect the world to accommodate us. But
recognising that something isn’t good for us and choosing to step away from it isn’t
necessarily selfish. Sometimes, it’s simply knowing ourselves well enough to choose
differently.
And this becomes even more clear when we consider how much of ourselves, we adapt to fit
into the world around us.
For a long time, I thought being flexible meant being willing to bend myself into whatever
shape a situation needed: accommodating, compromising, and trying to understand everyone
and everything in order to fit in. And while there’s nothing wrong with these things, there
comes a point when flexibility starts to become self-abandonment. We become so
preoccupied with making ourselves fit everywhere that we forget to ask whether we even
want to be there.
Something changes when you start directing that energy towards yourself. You become less
interested in forcing connections, entertaining situations that don’t feel right, or moulding
yourself into someone you’re not. You begin to avoid things that do not align with you, not
because you’re afraid of them, but because you no longer feel the need to pursue everything.
You don’t need to stand out in every room, not every person needs to understand you in the
same way, and you do not need to be yourself to the same extent with everyone.
Then there is the kind of avoidance that happens within our own minds.
We are often encouraged to process our feelings, which is important, as ignoring our
emotions indefinitely will not make them disappear. But I think that somewhere along the
way, we can become convinced that if a feeling still resurfaces, we must not have healed
from it, as if healing meant never feeling it again. We start questioning whether we’ve really
moved on if we still think about someone, miss something, or feel familiar emotions stir
when we think about a certain thing.
Healing does not necessarily mean reaching a point where a thought or feeling never comes
back. Sometimes, it means allowing it to exist without letting it define you or feeling the need
to do anything about it. You can acknowledge that something hurt you without revisiting the
hurt every time it comes to mind. You can miss someone without wanting them back, and
you can feel sad without interpreting that sadness as a setback.
Sometimes, moving forward means letting a feeling pass without turning it into a
conversation with yourself.
The goal isn’t to avoid everything or to fit into everything, but to become more intentional
about what we choose to engage with. To know when something needs confronting and when
it simply needs less of our attention. To recognise when we’re stepping away out of fear and
when we are doing so because we’ve finally learnt what deserves our energy.
Because not everything requires a reaction, an explanation, or another attempt to make it
work. Some things need to be faced, others need to be accepted, and some things simply need
to be left alone once we’ve understood what they meant to us.
Maybe there’s a certain kind of freedom in realising that we don’t have to engage with
everything that enters our lives. Sometimes, choosing what to leave behind is just as
important as choosing what to hold on to.