Attachment 101: How It Shapes Parenting, Love, and Healing

Attachment theory can sound like something best left to textbooks, but really, it’s about how we all do closeness. From the way a toddler clings at preschool drop-off to the way adults panic when a text goes unanswered, attachment explains how our nervous systems are wired for connection — and what happens when that wiring feels shaky.

This post offers a broad overview of how attachment shows up in everyday life: in parenting, in romantic partnerships, and in the ways we repair when things go wrong. Each area could be a full article on its own — and in fact, I’ll share deeper dives in future posts — but for now, here’s a foundation.

Before we talk about how attachment plays out in parenting and adult relationships, it helps to start with where the whole idea came from.

Attachment 101: The Strange Situation

If you’ve ever taken a psychology class, you’ve probably seen The Strange Situation video — or at least heard it referenced about a hundred times. It’s one of those experiments that shows up in every psych syllabus, and for good reason. (And yes, the clips are all over YouTube if you’re curious — consider this your few-hundred-dollars’-worth of graduate coursework for free.)

In the 1970s, psychologist Mary Ainsworth ran the experiment to study infant attachment. A caregiver would leave the room and then return, while observers noted how the baby responded.

• Secure babies cried at separation but were quickly soothed upon reunion.

• Anxious babies became inconsolable, clinging and unable to settle even when comfort returned.

• Avoidant babies appeared calm and indifferent — but their elevated heart rates and stress hormones revealed hidden distress. What looked fine wasn’t actually fine.

There’s also a fourth style, disorganized attachment. This group wasn’t part of Ainsworth’s original categories because their responses didn’t follow a clear, consistent pattern, making them difficult to study. Disorganized babies might reach for the caregiver and then freeze, or approach only to pull away. This often develops when the person meant to be a source of safety is also a source of fear — such as in unpredictable, neglectful, or abusive caregiving.

It’s important to remember: attachment styles exist on a spectrum. Most of us carry flavors of more than one, and under stress, those patterns can surface in how we relate.

Parenting: Old Wounds Resurface

Parenting has a way of bringing our own attachment history to the surface. Without awareness, we can unconsciously slip into our child-self and expect our kids to meet needs only an adult can. As our children move through milestones—first day of school, sleepovers, friendships, independence—our nervous systems “time-travel” to the age we were when similar needs weren’t met. Their growth lights up our old pathways: what they’re facing now can echo what we didn’t get then, and those echoes can amplify our reactions in the present.

I worked with a dad who kept getting into battles with his three-year-old over shoes. It wasn’t really about footwear. When his child resisted, it triggered his deeper wound of never being listened to as a child. In those moments, he wasn’t parenting from the present — he was three years old again, demanding, “Listen to me!”

Contrast that with another father who caught himself escalating. He paused and said gently to his preschooler, “Daddy’s having some big feelings right now, but you haven’t done anything wrong. These are my feelings, not yours.” He stepped away, calmed down, and then came back for repair. That awareness gave his child safety — and gave him a corrective experience.

The truth is, rupture isn’t the problem. Unacknowledged rupture is. Growth happens when parents can notice their triggers, step back, and return for repair.

Romantic Relationships: The Push–Pull Cycle

Attachment also plays out in our adult partnerships — often in the classic, much-discussed push–pull dance between anxious and avoidant partners. It’s the one most people recognize because it tends to be clear and common in couples therapy, and these partners are often magnetized to each other — their wounds fit neatly into each other’s wounds.

 The anxious partner says: “I love you, come closer.”

 The avoidant partner says: “I love you, but maybe you’re too close.”

It looks like opposites, but underneath both are whispering: “If you see the real me, maybe you won’t love me.”

One couple — okay, many couples — I worked with got caught in a texting spiral. When her partner didn’t reply quickly, the anxious partner fired off message after message, each minute of silence spinning into panic: “Did I do something wrong? Do you still care?”

Her partner, feeling overwhelmed, would shut down and avoid responding. The more she texted, the more he withdrew. The more he withdrew, the harder she texted. Both were simply trying to get to safety — but in opposite ways that left them both less safe.

The turning point was helping them see the cycle as the problem, not each other. Once they named the pattern, they could step out of blame and start working together against it.

Of course, this isn’t the only attachment dynamic that shows up in adult relationships — far from it. There are many others (anxious–anxious, avoidant–avoidant, disorganized patterns, or combinations that shift with stress). I’ll explore those in a future post, but the anxious–avoidant push–pull is a useful starting place because it’s so visible and so often shows up in couples work.

Repair: Where Security Grows

One of the most hopeful truths about attachment is that it’s not fixed. Adults can build what’s called earned secure attachment through consistent connection and repair.

Repair doesn’t mean perfection. It means noticing the miss, owning it, and staying present.

Early in my career, I once used language that my client hadn’t used to describe her trauma — language that wasn’t trauma-informed. The second it left my mouth, I could feel the shift. I thought about it all week.

At the next session, I began with: “I realized I said something that didn’t land. I want to hear how it felt for you, and I want to own my part.”

For her, the healing wasn’t just in my apology—it was that she didn’t have to carry the weight of deciding whether to bring it up. I named it. I stayed. That moment became a turning point in our work, and now she pops in periodically for a tune-up; when she does, that moment still comes up as proof that relationships can heal.

Repair is how trust deepens. When people learn that rupture doesn’t end the relationship, their nervous system can finally relax.

Everyday Skills That Build Security

Big changes start with small, repeatable practices. These are skills anyone can try tonight:

Name your state. “I feel panicky.” “I’m shutting down.” Vulnerability replaces defensiveness.

Pause and breathe. One slow exhale can reset the whole exchange.

Make one clear ask. Instead of, “You never connect with me,” say: “Can we sit on the couch together for 10 minutes?”

Use Nonviolent Communication. Observation → Feeling → Need → Request. Example: “When you’re on your phone during dinner, I feel lonely. I need connection. Would you put it away while we eat?”

Practice reflective listening. Repeat back what you heard: “So the mess makes you feel stressed and unsupported — did I get that right?”

These aren’t fancy techniques. They’re simple, repeatable practices that create safety in the everyday. And it’s the everyday moments — not grand gestures — that move us closer to secure attachment.

Final Thought

Attachment theory isn’t just about babies in a lab. It’s about how we show up as parents, as partners, and as people learning to repair what was once broken. Each of these areas deserves a deeper dive — including how attachment plays out in non-monogamy, which I’ll explore in a future post.

But for now, here’s the takeaway: security isn’t about never messing up. It’s about the safety of knowing repair is possible.