When Avoidance Becomes Your Operating System

Part 3 of 9-part series entitled, “From Autopilot to Aliveness: A Man’s Journey After Divorce,” offering practical wisdom and soul-deep encouragement for men navigating the emotional upheaval of early divorce.

Several months into my divorce process, I became more aware of my internal state. I started noticing how often I gave glib, vague responses to questions about how I was doing. “I guess I’m doing all right,” or “I’m making it,” became my go-to replies—thin veils that offered just enough to move on but concealed the truth even from myself.

What really started to grate on me, though, were the well-meaning but painful questions about my soon-to-be ex-wife. “How’s your wife?”—those four words carried more weight than most people realized. Each time someone asked, I felt this unspoken pressure to caretake their emotions around my divorce. I’d respond with a tight smile, “Workin’ it out,” followed by some performance of resilience: “I’ll be okay. I’m a big boy. Really.”

I recall one encounter that crystallized this experience. I was visiting a favorite delicatessen—one of those places filled with memories and comfort food—when I ran into a guy who’d known me early in my marriage. I hadn’t seen him in over 15 years. He waved, walked over, and said, “Man, how are you doing? How you been?”

I answered lightly, “Been good.”

Before I could ask about his wellbeing, he posed the question I knew was coming: “And how’s the Mrs.?”

Before he even finished the word, I felt heat crawl up my spine and tried to keep my eyes from rolling. I strained a smiled and replied, “Don’t know. We split.”

He blinked, confused. “No way, man. After 20, 30 years, was it?”

“Thirty,” I confirmed.

Then came that awkward pause—the unspoken interview I never agreed to. I looked for an exit strategy. A distraction. Anything.

These encounters, with their mix of shock, disbelief, and unsolicited probing, began triggering enough anxiety that I stopped frequenting familiar places altogether. I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want to explain.

Avoiding familiar spaces initially felt like a relief. It pushed me into new environments, encouraged new discoveries. But the relief was temporary. Eventually, I’d run into someone in an unfamiliar place who still knew enough about my past to pull me right back into that painful loop:

“Hey Jeff… how’s that beautiful wife of yours?”

“So, you’re sure you’re not getting back together, huh?”

“Think you’ll change your mind after some time apart?”

“Thirty years is a long time to just let go. Isn’t it?”

My Brothers, this blog is about those moments—when the people around you struggle to adjust to your life changes, and you’re still trying to find the words to explain what you haven’t yet fully faced yourself. It’s about navigating the emotional impact of their questions, their disbelief, their grief—while trying to attend to your own.

It’s about learning how to show up with grace and patience for others without abandoning your own healing in the process.

Reflecting on this moment in my divorce, I’ve come to see is that the annoyance I felt in those interactions wasn’t just frustration; it was an invitation—an invitation to own my emotions, even if I couldn’t fully name them yet.

Part 1 — Why We Avoid (and Why It Works…for a While)

Avoidance is a fast, efficient, short-term regulator of an overwhelmed nervous system. When we can’t yet name what we feel, we manage who/what we face. That’s normal. But sustained avoidance:

1. Delays emotional literacy (we can’t heal what we won’t face or name).

2. Narrows our world (fewer places, fewer people, less spontaneity).

3. Reinforces shame (our silence confirms the lie that the truth is unmanageable).

4. Erodes identity (we become who our fear allows us to be, not who our values call us to be).

Part 2 — The Avoidance Map: How It Shows Up Post-Divorce

A. Spatial Avoidance

• Detouring around familiar places (gyms, churches, restaurants, social circles).

• Errand roulette: driving 25 minutes farther just to avoid a “chance encounter.”

B. Social Avoidance

• Dodging calls/texts from mutual friends or in-laws.

• Leaving events early or arriving late to minimize unstructured social time.

• Switching seats/aisles at church or public events to reduce conversational “risk.”

C. Conversational Avoidance

• Defaulting to canned replies: “I’m fine,” “All good,” “Working through it.”

• Using humor/deflection to shut down depth.

• Over-explaining as a way to avoid the pain of direct, concise truth.

D. Emotional Avoidance

• Over-functioning (stacking projects, staying late at work, productivity as anesthesia).

• Numbing (over-exercising, scrolling, porn, alcohol, or “relational substitution”).

• Binary labeling (“good/bad,” “right/wrong,” “strong/weak”) to avoid nuanced feelings.

E. Identity Avoidance

• Clinging to old roles: “I’m okay. I’m the strong one.”

• Performing resilience: “I’ll be fine—I’m a big boy.”

• Deprioritizing personal needs to caretake other people’s discomfort.

PART 3 -– The Hidden Costs (What Avoidance Steals)

1. Language: If you never speak it, you never learn it. Avoidance shrinks emotional vocabulary.

2. Belonging: You start building a life around not being seen.

3. Time/Energy: Navigating around pain becomes its own full-time job.

4. Growth: You cannot integrate what you will not face; your story gets stuck at the point of evasion.

5. Agency: Avoidance tricks you into believing circumstances are in charge, not your values.

Part 4 — A Better Way: Grace + Boundaries + Ownership

Grace: Most people aren’t trying to pry; they’re trying to care (even clumsily).

Boundaries: You don’t have to educate everyone. You can protect your bandwidth.

Ownership: The feelings under your annoyance are yours to name, tend, and metabolize.

Micro-Boundary Scripts (save these)

Short & Clean

• “Thanks for asking. I’m working through a lot and focusing on healing. I’m not ready to talk details, but I appreciate your care.”

• “That’s a long story. I’m handling it with support. Thanks for understanding.”

Redirect with care

• “It’s been a tough season, and I’m staying present to it. How have you been?”

• “I don’t have the words yet, but I’m doing the work. How’s your family doing?”

Set a follow-up boundary

• “If I want to share more, I’ll let you know. For now, short answers are what I can manage.”

• “I appreciate the concern. I’m keeping conversations about it to a small circle right now.”

Going to the Territory

Here are some powerful ways to deepen your emotional wisdom, reclaim your dignity, and strengthen your agency by taking action that ours your first, for a change.

Pay Attention: The 3-Minute Name-It Practice

1. Pause: Set a timer for 3 minutes.

2. Scan: What’s happening in your body? (Tight chest, shallow breath, hot face, numb hands…)

3. Name (even imperfectly): “I feel… (angry / numb / unsure / exposed / pressured / ashamed / tired / protective / unready / scattered).”

4. Normalize: “Given what I’ve been through, this makes sense.”

5. Choose: “What would alignment—not avoidance—look like in the next 24 hours?”

Pay Closer Attention: Journaling Prompts (to reclaim language & agency

• Where am I currently avoiding people, places, or conversations? What’s the fear underneath each one?

• Which emotion do I feel most often but name least often? (Try to name it.)

• When someone asks about my ex, what boundary do I want to hold and how will I say it—clearly and kindly?

• What core values do I want shaping my next 90 days? What micro-choices would align me with those values?

• What is the cost—to my time, energy, and sense of self—of continuing to avoid?

• What’s one small conversation I’m willing to have this week (with myself or with someone safe) that I’ve been postponing?

Part 5 — From Avoidance to Alignment: A Simple Weekly Practice

The 5 A’s Check-In (10 minutes, once a week)

1. Awareness: Where did I avoid this week? (Be specific.)

2. Affect: What did I actually feel in those moments?

3. Adaptive Move: If I could redo it, what aligned action would I take?

4. Ask: Who can help me practice the new script or boundary?

5. Act: What one conversation, place, or feeling will I face this week—on purpose?

Let Me Hurry To A Close

Avoidance is normal. It’s protective. But it’s also a teacher—it shows you exactly where language, boundaries, and support are needed. Let your annoyance become an invitation: to own your emotions (even if you can’t name them perfectly yet), to protect your bandwidth, and to live from your values rather than from other people’s reactions.

If this hit home, drop a comment with the ONE avoidance behavior that’s costing you the most energy right now—and I’ll reply with a tailored boundary script you can use this week.