For years, I believed in the idea of twin flames—that one person who was my mirror soul, my perfect match, the other half of my spiritual fire. I thought I had found mine. The connection was intense, the synchronicities uncanny, and the push-pull dynamic… well, that’s where things got messy.
After three years of emotional whiplash—moments of deep connection followed by sudden withdrawal—I finally let go. And that’s when it hit me: this wasn’t a twin flame connection at all. It was pure limerence with an avoidant.
The Twin Flame Myth Meets Avoidant Attachment
The twin flame concept is undeniably romantic—two souls fated to find each other, igniting profound growth and transformation. It’s a beautiful idea, one that makes the heart ache with longing. But here’s the hard truth: what many of us believe is a twin flame is often just an anxious-avoidant trap wrapped in spiritual glitter.
Avoidant partners thrive on emotional distance. Their fear of engulfment sends them retreating the moment things get too deep. Meanwhile, those of us with more anxious tendencies (yes, that was me) twist their hot-and-cold behavior into something sacred. “This push-pull is divine timing,” we tell ourselves. “The pain is just part of the journey. Twin flames are supposed to be hard, right?”
I took it even further. When they’d go silent—delaying replies, ignoring messages, disappearing for days—I convinced myself it was because of the intensity of our connection. “They feel it too deeply—that’s why they need space.”
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t the depth of the connection. It was the depth of their avoidance.
I wish I’d realized sooner that a real twin flame doesn’t leave you drowning in emotional chaos for years. Yes, twin flame dynamics can be turbulent—they’re meant to trigger growth, after all. But they shouldn’t feel like a never-ending cycle of abandonment, where you’re always the one reaching out, waiting, aching.
A true twin flame may challenge you, but they won’t keep you stranded in uncertainty. The difference? One helps you heal. The other just hurts.

Limerence vs. Twin Flame Connection
What I experienced wasn’t a twin flame bond—it was limerence, an obsessive infatuation where the other person becomes an emotional addiction. Limerence thrives on uncertainty, and avoidant partners are perfect for feeding that cycle. They give just enough to keep you hooked, then withdraw, leaving you chasing the next breadcrumb.
A real twin flame connection, while challenging, should ultimately feel like growth, not constant suffering. There’s a difference between triggering each other’s wounds (which can happen in any deep relationship) and a pattern where one person is always running while the other is always chasing.
That said, I don’t believe in the concept of an avoidant twin flame. The entire purpose of a twin flame connection is mutual evolution – but with an avoidant partner, the only thing that evolves is your frustration.
You’ll find yourself growing:
- Resentment where love should be
- Anxiety where security should blossom
- A tolerance for emotional starvation instead of spiritual nourishment
The avoidant dance isn’t sacred chemistry – it’s trauma mistaking itself for destiny.
How To Tell The Difference
If you’re wondering whether you’re dealing with a twin flame or just limerence with an avoidant, ask yourself:
Does this relationship bring more pain than growth? (Twin flames push you to evolve, but not through perpetual anxiety.)
Is there mutual effort? (Avoidants often resist deepening the bond, while twin flames eventually move toward union.)
Do you feel obsessed, or at peace when you’re together? (Limerence feels like an addiction; a true twin flame eventually brings calm.)
Letting Go of The Illusion
It took me years—years of overanalyzing, hoping, and heartache—to finally admit the truth: what I called a “twin flame” was just my attachment wounds screaming for validation. The moment I released the fantasy, the realization hit me like cold water: Love isn’t meant to be a marathon of suffering.
If you’re trapped in this cycle, pause and ask yourself the real question:
“Am I in love with them—or with the version of them I created in my mind?”
Sometimes, the most profound spiritual growth doesn’t come from staying and fighting for a connection. It comes from walking away—not from a twin flame, but from a lesson you’ve already learned.
Do I wish I’d figured this out sooner? Absolutely.
But maybe that’s the point—some truths can’t be rushed.
They arrive only when we’re ready to stop romanticizing the pain and start honoring our peace.