Craving Closeness but Keeping Everyone at Arm’s Length - The Perfectionist’s Dilemma
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Photo Description: Two people holding hands across a table, symbolizing support and connection. To the right in dark blue are the words “Craving Closeness but Keeping Everyone at Arm’s Length - The Perfectionist’s Dilemma By Kandace Ledergerber, LPC/LMHC, Certified EMDR Therapist” with light blue background.
It’s 11 p.m. and you collapse onto the couch, exhausted from the day. Your eyes burn, and the weight of an invisible pressure presses down on your shoulders. Too many people know this kind of exhaustion — giving everything to everyone else and ending the day feeling strangely alone. You’re not the only one.
I wish I didn’t feel like I have to take care of everything and everyone, you might think.
Maybe you drift into restless sleep, replay the endless to-do list, or recall old memories that taught you it was your job to be the responsible one. Somewhere along the way, you learned that keeping everyone else happy was the safest way forward.
Striving for perfection wasn’t about choice — it was survival. But survival often comes with a cost. In this case, the mask of perfection can leave you feeling achingly lonely.
You’re the one people turn to — the listening ear, the steady shoulder, the dependable presence. But when it’s your turn? When someone asks, “How are you really doing?” your throat tightens. Rehearsed answers tumble out: “I’m fine.” “Busy, but good.” “Hanging in there.” Because offering the raw truth feels way too risky.
And so, you keep people at a distance — even while your heart longs to be understood.
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Photo Description: Person sitting alone on a couch with head resting on hand, symbolizing exhaustion, loneliness, and emotional struggle
Why Trauma Teaches Us to Keep Distance
If this were a course in school, it might be called “Survival 101.” Lesson one: Don’t let them get too close — it’s safer this way.
For many who grew up in environments where being yourself didn’t feel safe, this belief gets wired in early. Maybe you risked opening up and were met with rejection, criticism, or even abuse. Maybe you learned that performing — keeping others happy — was the only way to avoid conflict. Over time, your nervous system recorded the lesson: closeness equals danger — a pattern rooted in trauma responses like fight, flight, freeze, or fawn.
So you built a shield: the mask of perfection. If people only see the polished, capable version of you, they can’t get close enough to hurt you. The problem is, they also can’t get close enough to really know you (and you deserve to be known).
That’s the paradox. The very strategies that once kept you safe now keep you stuck — isolated behind walls your nervous system still believes you need.
The Double-Edged Sword
Humans are wired for connection. Our brains release oxytocin when we feel safe with others, and our nervous systems regulate in the presence of trusted people. From an evolutionary standpoint, belonging meant survival.
But trauma complicates this wiring. Early unsafe experiences rewrote the script: connection isn’t safe. Your survival brain stepped in: Better to keep the walls high than risk being hurt again.
Now you live in tension. One part of you craves intimacy. Another part fears that if someone sees the “real you,” they’ll walk away. Perfectionism feels protective — but it also becomes a prison.
Holding the mask in place is exhausting. It isolates you, burns you out, and leaves you unsure of what you even feel anymore. After all, there’s a difference between the kind of distance that feels grounding (like a night to yourself) and the kind that feels suffocating — the wall between you and others.
The double-edged sword of perfectionism is this: it convinces you that you must perform to be lovable — yet true love requires you to set the performance down. This is also why perfectionism can sometimes feel safer than stillness — your body has learned that constant doing feels protective, even if it’s exhausting.
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Photo Description: Person holding a black mask outdoors, symbolizing the mask of perfectionism trauma survivors often wear.
The Risk + Reward of Connection
This is why the pull of connection feels so brutal — one part of you knows closeness is essential, while another part panics at the risk.
Vulnerability feels risky because it is. As Brené Brown says, “Vulnerability is uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” It’s showing up without guarantees.
But here’s the other truth: vulnerability is also where courage, intimacy, and belonging are born. Without it, the closeness you crave stays out of reach.
That doesn’t mean throwing open your heart to everyone. Not every relationship has earned that right. Some people have — and those relationships, the ones marked by green flags of respect, listening, and support, are worth the risk. Part of protecting yourself while exploring closeness is setting boundaries that actually feel safe.
And vulnerability doesn’t have to happen in a giant leap. It can start small, in ways you control. A little more honesty when someone asks how you are. Admitting when you’re tired instead of saying “fine.” Saying no, and noticing how the other person responds. Each step shows your nervous system that closeness doesn’t always equal danger — that safety and connection can coexist.
Making Connection Feel Safe Again
Healing isn’t about forcing yourself to be vulnerable overnight. It’s not about tearing down walls you needed to survive. It’s about slowly, gently teaching your system that closeness can feel safe again.
If you’ve spent years keeping people at arm’s length, of course it feels terrifying to let someone in. You’re not doing it wrong — you’re doing what you were taught. But just because it’s what you learned doesn’t mean it’s what you’re stuck with forever. Healing means teaching your nervous system a new story: connection can be safe.
This is where EMDR therapy in Phoenix and Tempe can help. EMDR doesn’t just tell you that you’re safe — it helps your brain and body reprocess the root experiences that taught you otherwise. Clients often shift from beliefs like, “I have to be perfect to be lovable,” to, “I’m enough as I am.”
I’ve seen EMDR therapy change lives — helping survivors set down the mask of perfection, stop white-knuckling through every interaction, and begin experiencing authentic closeness without fear.
If you’re curious to learn more about what EMDR is and how it works, check out this blog: What To Expect from EMDR Therapy Phoenix.
5 Small Steps Toward Connection (Even When It Feels Scary)
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
Photo Description: Close-up of two people gently holding hands, representing safe connection and vulnerability.
If vulnerability feels terrifying, you’re not broken — you’re human. And you don’t have to start big. Here are five small, safe steps you might try.
Start with Yourself.
Before opening up to others, check in with your body. Notice where tension sits. Take a few slow breaths or place a hand over your heart.Test the Waters.
You don’t have to rip off the mask all at once. Practice small acts of honesty with trustedpeople who have shown you those green flags.Notice Red and Green Flags.
Pay attention to how people respond when you’re real. Green flags: listening, respect, support. Red flags: dismissal, minimizing, using your words against you.Give Yourself Permission to Step Back.
Vulnerability should never cost you your well-being. It’s okay to retreat, reset, or re-evaluate.Seek Safe Spaces for Practice.
Not every setting is safe for authenticity. Therapy, support groups, or carefully chosen friendships are good places to practice.
TL;DR: Craving Closeness but Afraid to Be Seen
The Dilemma: Perfectionism often develops as a survival strategy after trauma. It keeps you safe but leaves you lonely.
Why It Happens: Early experiences taught your nervous system that vulnerability = danger.
The Cost: Staying behind the mask leads to burnout and prevents true connection.
The Hope: Healing is possible. EMDR therapy in Phoenix and Tempe helps reprocess old messages so you can believe a more accurate truth, like “I am enough as I am.”
First Steps: Start small — check in with your body, test safe relationships, notice red/green flags, allow yourself to step back, and find safe spaces to practice.
💡 You don’t have to keep choosing between safety and closeness. With support, it’s possible to feel both.
Closing Thoughts
Craving closeness while fearing it isn’t a flaw. It’s your nervous system doing its best to protect you. Those perfectionist patterns are proof of survival, not proof that you’re broken. But survival mode isn’t the same as living.
Healing is possible. Whether through EMDR therapy in Phoenix or Tempe, or through other safe spaces you create, you can begin to loosen perfectionism’s grip. You can shift from “I have to be perfect to be loved” to “I am enough just as I am.”
If you’re in Arizona and ready to explore EMDR therapy, I’d love to walk with you on that journey. Together, we can create a space where boundaries feel possible, authenticity feels safe, and connection becomes not a gamble — but a gift.