Let’s Talk About Avoidance

Think back to a time when life actually felt okay.  

You might’ve even felt good—steady, in control, maybe even safe in your own skin.  

You left the house without overthinking it.  

You trusted that the world wasn’t out to destroy you.  

That version of safety feels almost foreign now, doesn’t it? 

Then the loss happened.  

And suddenly, everything shifted.  

The world that used to feel familiar now feels like a minefield.  

Not because there’s danger lurking around every corner, but because everything reminds you.  

The grocery store aisle, the song on the radio, even a random smell—it all cuts a little too close. 

And no, it’s not always physical danger we’re talking about. It’s the emotional kind.  

The kind that makes your chest tighten and your stomach drop.  

The kind that whispers,  

“Don’t go there. Don’t feel that.  

Don’t look at it.”  

Because you already know how bad it hurts. 

So what do we do?  

We avoid.
 

We avoid people, places, memories, songs, photos, even parts of ourselves that used to feel alive.  

We pull back from the world because it’s filled with too many jagged edges that could slice open what’s barely holding together. 

Avoidance makes sense in the beginning.  

It’s protection.  

It’s your brain’s way of saying, “Let’s not drown today.” But over time, it stops protecting you and starts trapping you. 

Because every time you avoid the pain, you also avoid the healing. 

That’s the real danger. 

Question for you:
What are you avoiding right now—not because you want to, but because you’re scared of what might come up if you don’t? 

Tonight, we’re digging into that. Because grief doesn’t heal in the dark. It heals when you stop running from it. 

Let’s clear something up, because this one gets twisted all the time. 

When we talk about avoidance in grief, we’re not talking about hiding from people or skipping events.  

We’re talking about avoiding your feelings.  

That’s what’s really going on underneath all the canceled plans and polite excuses. 

Signs You’re Practicing Avoidance 

Once you start to understand what avoidance really is, the next step is to notice how it shows up in your life.  

Avoidance can be sneaky. It hides underneath everyday behaviors that might seem harmless. You might call it “coping,” “being busy,” or “needing a break.” But avoidance isn’t about rest—it’s about running from what hurts.  

The problem is, what we avoid doesn’t disappear. It waits.  

It hides under the surface until something triggers it again, and suddenly you’re back in the pain you thought you’d escaped.  

Avoidance doesn’t protect you from grief—it just delays it. 
Where do you notice yourself pulling away instead of facing what hurts? 

You might find yourself withdrawing from people, places, and activities that used to bring you comfort. After loss, the world can start to feel unfamiliar and unsafe.  

You might stop answering calls, cancel plans, or find excuses to stay home. At first, it makes sense—being out there hurts.  

But over time, isolation builds walls around your pain. You begin to feel disconnected from the people who care about you and from the parts of life that remind you who you are outside of your grief.  

Hiding from the world can feel like control, but really it’s loneliness in disguise. 
Who or what have you been avoiding since your loss? 

Another form of avoidance is pretending you’re fine. “I’m fine” becomes your automatic answer even when your heart feels broken.  

You say it because you don’t want to make others uncomfortable, or because you’re afraid of falling apart if you tell the truth.  

Maybe you think you should be “over it” by now, or that others will judge you for still feeling the weight of your loss.  

The problem is, every time you say you’re fine when you’re not, you silence your own truth.  

You deny your need for help, connection, and understanding.  

Healing begins when honesty replaces pretending. 
When was the last time you told someone the truth about how you really feel? 

Procrastination is another sneaky form of avoidance. You might tell yourself you’ll deal with certain things “later”—like sorting through your person’s belongings, finishing a project, or even having an important conversation.  

Sometimes waiting makes sense; you need to feel ready. But when “not yet” turns into months or years, it’s no longer protection—it’s avoidance.  

You might believe you’re keeping control, but what you’re really doing is holding onto pain.  

Procrastination keeps grief in the background, unfinished and unresolved. The truth is, nothing gets lighter while we avoid it. 
What have you been putting off that your heart knows it’s time to face? 

Another sign of avoidance is distraction. Staying busy becomes a full-time job.  

You fill every moment with tasks, projects, and noise. You might tell yourself you’re being productive or helpful, but really, it’s a way to keep your mind from wandering back to the hurt.  

You might even focus your energy on taking care of everyone else so you don’t have to take care of yourself.  

The danger is that distraction looks healthy from the outside—it’s rewarded by the world—but inside, your heart is starving for stillness, reflection, and truth.  

Healing only happens when you stop running long enough to feel. 
What do you use to stay busy so you don’t have to feel your grief? 

And then there’s the kind of avoidance that numbs you completely—using substances to escape your pain. Whether it’s alcohol, pills, food, or something else, the goal is the same: stop feeling. For a while, it works. The edges of your pain blur, the ache softens, and life feels bearable.  

But the cost is high. When you numb the pain, you also numb your capacity to heal, connect, and feel joy.  

Your body starts to rely on what’s outside of you instead of trusting what’s inside of you.  

Grief already hurts—you don’t need to add another wound. Healing requires presence, not escape. 
What do you reach for when you don’t want to feel your pain?