At a glance
Fear of intimacy is the fear of being known accurately and then left. It arrives at the moment another person starts to matter, before you have decided anything. Here is where the retreat comes from, and how it loosens on an ordinary evening.
Clinical insights from 22 years in psychotherapy
I’m Mark Colclough, MA, psychotherapist in Copenhagen. Qualified at the Psychosynthesis Education Trust and the University of East London. 22 years of full-time, face-to-face clinical practice.
- Closeness in short bursts. Clients who tell me they are bad at closeness show me the opposite for a fortnight, with a stranger, or with me.
- Being found ordinary. What I hear dreaded is not rejection but being known and then judged unremarkable, as though that were the worse outcome.
- The retreat outruns the thought. By the time a client is able to describe the moment they stepped back, the step is already taken.
Clinical notes: My observations are anonymised and compounded from my session notes since 2004.
What is fear of intimacy?
Fear of intimacy is a held back capacity to share what matters to you with a person who matters to you. It is not a fear of people. You are warm, funny and attentive all evening with someone whose opinion of you costs you nothing. The capacity narrows at one particular point, when a person starts to count and what they make of you starts to carry weight.
The research definition is narrower than the everyday phrase: an inhibited capacity to exchange thoughts and feelings of personal significance with someone you value highly1. I find that narrowness useful, because it moves the question away from whether you are good with people and towards what happens to you when one person matters. The fear is accurate about one thing. Closeness does cost you uncertainty and exposure. Where it misleads you is in its estimate of what you survive.
Why do I pull away when someone gets close?
You pull away because closeness once arrived together with rejection, and the part of you that watches for rejection has not been told the circumstances have changed. What comes first is not a thought. It is a drop, a flattening, a wish to be somewhere else. Then your body takes it up: the chest tightens, the breath shortens, and you are already standing to fetch something from the kitchen. The reason arrives last, and it arrives sounding sensible. You are tired. The conversation was going nowhere. You have an early start.
John Bowlby described how early relationships leave a working expectation of what closeness brings, and the British school of object relations, Winnicott in particular, described the practised self that gets offered in place of the real one because the real one once went unmet. In my clinical judgement that practised self is what my clients are guarding at the moment they step back, which is why the step feels like good sense rather than fright. Where there is more sensitivity to rejection there is more of this withdrawal1, measured at a single moment in one group of Greek students, so it tells you what travels together and not what causes what.
The withdrawal was a reasonable adaptation once and it protected something worth protecting. That is worth knowing before you set about dismantling it. Read more about attachment style.
How does it show up on an ordinary evening?
It shows up as small turns away, none of which looks like a refusal. Your partner sighs, asks what you made of something, puts a hand on your shoulder, remarks on nothing at all. Each of those is a request for contact, and you answer every one of them whether you mean to or not.
- Turning towards. You answer the sigh, ask the question back, or simply stay where you are.
- Turning away. You nod, reach for your phone, or find something that needs doing in another room.
- Turning against. You answer with irritation, and a request for contact becomes an argument instead.
Couples who stayed happily married turned towards these requests 86 per cent of the time, against 33 per cent among the couples who separated or stayed together unhappily2. Those are observations of couples in a laboratory rather than a measure of your evening, and what makes them worth knowing is the scale rather than the number: turn away gently and often enough and your partner stops offering. Sex carries it most plainly. Desire is there, your body is willing, and you keep the evening busy until the moment has passed. The load is not shared evenly here. If you are the one stepping back, the repair starts with you, though whether your partner meets you in it is not in your hands.
What do I call it instead of fear?
Nobody sits down and tells me they are frightened of being loved. They tell me they are independent, that their standards are high, or that they have had bad luck with partners. Those descriptions are sometimes exact, and a person who is content alone and avoiding nothing does exist. What holds my attention is the other case, where the word is doing a job, keeping the fear unnamed and therefore unchanged.
Independence means you need nobody, and your week is arranged so that nobody gets the chance to be needed. High standards mean every available person develops a flaw at roughly the point they become available. Bad luck means you choose people who keep their distance, and then the distance looks like their doing. Underneath all three sits a rule phrased as law rather than as feeling: love breaks easily, or there is something in me that closeness would expose. Which of these you are living in is something you feel rather than argue, and a defence has a tightness underneath it that a preference does not.
Read more about why you keep choosing the same shape of partner and about dismissive avoidant attachment.

How do I stop pulling back?
You stop by repeating exposures small enough not to frighten you, in a relationship where nothing bad follows them, rather than by making one large confession. A single disclosure leaves you exposed and no closer, and the retreat that follows it costs more than the disclosure gained.
- Name it to yourself first. Say “I am frightened of this” where you would say “I am independent”, and notice which one your body agrees with.
- Write your rules down. Put on paper what you hold to be true about closeness, and see how much of it is phrased as law.
- Answer one request a day. Take the sigh, or the remark about nothing, that you would let pass, and answer it out loud. One a day is a suggestion to start from, not a clinical threshold.
- Stay a few minutes longer. Remain in the room past the point where you would have found something that needed doing.
- Go slower than seems necessary. Being pushed into disclosure before you are ready proves the fear right.
Therapy adds a relationship where the exposure is survivable and happens regularly, and where I am able to stop you at the moment of stepping back instead of long afterwards. If you would rather talk it over before committing to anything, the free 30-minute call is a reasonable place to start.
These steps are not enough on their own while the retreat is still faster than your noticing of it, which is where most people begin. They are the wrong steps altogether if your distance is an accurate response to how your partner treats you, because then the work belongs to the relationship and not to your fear. Telling those two apart from the inside is genuinely hard, and it is the part worth taking to somebody outside it.
Questions people ask
Do I need individual therapy or couples therapy for this?
Start with individual therapy when the pattern has followed you through more than one relationship, and consider couples work when it arrived with this partner. If you are unsure which it is, that is a reasonable thing to decide in a first session rather than before it.
Does my partner have to come with me?
No, most of this work is individual. Tell your partner what you are working on, because the small turns towards them will change and they deserve to know why.
What actually happens in the sessions?
I slow the moment of stepping back down until you are able to watch it happening, and then you stay in it slightly longer than is comfortable. Very little of it is advice.
Will I have to talk about my childhood?
Only as far as it explains what happens in your body now. Early material earns its place by making the present clearer, never by being excavated for its own sake.
What if I start therapy and then want to stop?
Then you stop. Saying out loud that you want to stop opens the most useful conversation we have.
If love makes you want to leave, I can help you understand that urge in therapy for avoidant attachment, gently and without hurry.
You may also find these helpful
Sources
- Giovazolias, T. and Paschalidi, E., The Effect of Rejection Sensitivity on Fear of Intimacy in Emerging Adulthood: A Moderated-Mediation Model, European Journal of Psychology Open, 2022
- The Gottman Institute, Want to Improve Your Relationship? Start Paying More Attention to Bids
How this article was written: I choose the subject and the angle. An AI assistant researches and drafts. I read the draft, correct and improve it and stand behind every clinical statement. The professional and clinical judgement is mine.