{"id":149,"date":"2026-04-27T10:54:54","date_gmt":"2026-04-27T10:54:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/?p=149"},"modified":"2026-06-01T13:33:50","modified_gmt":"2026-06-01T13:33:50","slug":"por-que-vuelve-lo-que-evito","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/por-que-vuelve-lo-que-evito\/","title":{"rendered":"Why does what I avoid come back?"},"content":{"rendered":"
Avoid and repeat: a solo dance<\/strong><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
When it's not doubt, but certainty<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
We often face situations we know we don't want, so we avoid them, but sooner or later, they reappear. We try to refine and perfect our avoidance, but it still happens. It seems there's some hidden knowledge that would unlock everything, but often it's not about knowing more. Nor is it a lack of decisiveness or insecurity. Sometimes something less obvious occurs: the person isn't particularly confused about what might happen, but rather has a feeling of knowing it quite clearly. Even before the scene unfolds, a certainty arises that guides their actions.
It's not that there's a lack of information. It's that a conclusion seems to have already been reached. The situation is anticipated with such clarity that it leaves little room for the unexpected: "I already know how it's going to end," "this always ends the same way," "there's no point in getting involved there again." It's not experienced as one possibility among others, but as something practically decided beforehand.
That certainty has consequences. When the ending seems already written, action loses its value. It's not so much about choosing what to do, but about avoiding a path whose outcome is taken for granted. At that point, avoidance doesn't appear as a difficulty, but as a coherent, even reasonable, way of positioning oneself in relation to something perceived as repetitive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The scene doesn't begin when it happens<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
However, if one delves a little deeper into this, a different nuance begins to emerge. What is being avoided is not just a specific situation, an awkward conversation, a tense encounter, a moment when something should be said, but a broader scene that is already quite well-constructed before anything even happens.
That scene doesn't only involve the other person, nor is it limited to what might happen externally. It also includes the place one would occupy in that space. Not just \"what they're going to say to me,\" but \"where that will leave me\": giving in, over-explaining, feeling unable to stand by what I wanted to say, or ending up in a position that's already familiar.
There's something familiar about that scene. Even though the people or the context change, there's a recurring structure. And it's precisely that familiarity that gives it a sense of inevitability. It's not that everything is the same, but rather that there's something similar enough that the outcome can be anticipated with considerable certainty\u2026 even before it's actually happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When avoidance seems to work<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
From this perspective, avoidance takes on a meaning that shouldn't be overlooked. In many cases, avoidance isn't experienced as a problem. On the contrary, it can feel like something that, in a way, works: if I don't go, I don't expose myself; if I don't say anything, I don't get caught up in that dynamic; if I withdraw in time, I don't get trapped in the same old routine.
From that perspective, avoidance isn't failing. It's protecting oneself. It's finding a way not to go through something familiar again, something one doesn't want to repeat. And in part, that's true. Avoidance can cut a situation short before it fully unfolds. It's not an absurd or illogical response; it serves a purpose, it has an effect. But at the same time, not everything is resolved there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What doesn't disappear when you avoid<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because even if the scene doesn't actually happen, some of it has already been played out. In what is anticipated, in what is taken for granted, in the way one withdraws. That's where a kind of double movement appears. On the one hand, one avoids getting caught up in the specific situation. On the other, some of that same logic continues to operate on another level. Not necessarily with the same intensity, or in the same way, but without disappearing entirely. The scene doesn't happen outside, but it unfolds in anticipation. It is set up, rehearsed, considered closed prematurely. In that sense, avoidance doesn't completely interrupt the repetition: it displaces it, makes it function elsewhere.
And that's why, in some cases, avoidance doesn't completely relieve the problem. It may reduce the immediate discomfort, but it doesn't change it, and sometimes it even intensifies it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The weight of what is taken for granted<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
When this form of anticipation takes hold, what weighs most heavily is not so much the situation itself, but what is taken for granted within it. Certain elements appear inevitable: how the other person will react, how the conversation will end, how one will feel afterward.
That feeling of inevitability is rarely questioned. It's experienced more as something obvious, a conclusion reached based on past experiences. And in a way, that's true: there's something of each person's history at play in these recurring scenes.
But when that certainty becomes too rigid, it leaves little room for variation. Everything is interpreted in advance, even what hasn't happened yet. Experience is reduced to confirming what was already expected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It's not about doing the opposite.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Faced with this, it's common to think that the solution lies in doing the opposite: exposing oneself more, avoiding less, "confronting" these situations. But these kinds of responses, however well-intentioned, often only scratch the surface of what's at stake. Because it's not just about behavior. It's not simply a matter of deciding to do something different. When the scene has already been set, when the outcome feels predetermined, forcing oneself to act differently can create more pressure than openness.
It's also not enough to simply convince yourself that "this time will be different." That idea might seem like an attempt to counteract the previous certainty, but it often fails to truly change it. If the underlying feeling remains that everything is already decided, these kinds of approaches have little effect.
Therefore, the issue is not so much about changing what one does immediately, but about beginning to look differently at how what seems so obvious gets constructed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To open a question where everything seems closed<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps the point isn't to resolve the scene, but to introduce a question into it. Not a question to quickly find an answer, but one that allows some of that certainty to begin to shift.
\u2022 What exactly do you take for granted when you think about that situation?
\u2022 How is that seemingly inevitable ending constructed?
\u2022 What role do you play in that scene before it happens?
These questions aren't meant to refute the experience or say \"it's not like that.\" Rather, they aim to pinpoint how that certainty is organized, what it's made of, what elements sustain it. Because even the scenes that feel most closed off have a structure; they don't appear out of thin air. They repeat themselves in a certain way, with certain elements that reappear, with certain positions that remain constant. And there, in that form of repetition, something can begin to open up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the repetition is not fully fixed<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even in those cases where everything seems settled, not everything is completely fixed. There's something in that repetition that never quite closes completely. Sometimes it appears in subtle nuances that don't quite fit with what was anticipated. In details that are left out when certainty fills the space. In moments when the scene doesn't exactly match what seemed so clear. They aren't obvious changes or immediate solutions, but they point to something important: that even there, where everything seems settled, something isn't completely fixed.
And that's what, in some cases, can begin to be worked on when it finds a place to unfold in a different way. Not to eliminate repetition overnight, nor to guarantee a different result, but so that something that today seems completely closed can begin, little by little, to shift.
And there, in being able to sustain some of that question, another path beyond the known one can open up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Avoiding certain situations might seem like a way to protect oneself. If I don't go, if I don't speak up, if I don't expose myself, some of that familiar discomfort doesn't unfold. And in part, that works. But when something keeps coming back, perhaps it's not just about what's happening outside, but about how that scene is already anticipated before it even begins, and the position one finds oneself in even before arriving there.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":152,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-149","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=149"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":333,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149\/revisions\/333"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/152"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=149"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=149"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marianogarciapsicologo.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=149"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}