From Anxious to Secure: The Journey to Safe, Sovereign Love

Have you ever felt like you’re loving with your whole chest… but it still doesn’t feel like enough? Like your heart’s doing backflips to be chosen, seen, kept?

Yeah. Me too.

Anxious attachment is no joke. It’s that tangled-up, tight-chested feeling that if you’re not hyper-available, hyper-considerate, and hyper-vigilant, the people you care about will… vanish. Or worse—withdraw quietly while smiling. (Cue the spiral.)

But let me offer you a truth I had to peel from the wreckage of way too many almosts: healing isn’t about clinging harder—it’s about rooting deeper. Into yourself.

What Anxious Attachment Actually Feels Like

Let’s cut the “clingy” and “needy” nonsense. Anxious attachment is your nervous system doing Olympic-level cartwheels because it’s convinced love is conditional, inconsistent, and possibly imaginary.

The signs?

• Obsessively rereading texts like they’re sacred scrolls
• Needing constant reassurance but still not feeling safe
• Turning silence into catastrophe
• Apologizing for having needs
• Overgiving until you’re drained

It’s not about being dramatic—it’s about trying to survive love like it’s a battlefield.

For me, it showed up as this relentless urge to prove my worth. If someone pulled away, I didn’t just feel uneasy—I felt erased. But underneath that panic was a younger version of me, terrified that love could only exist if I earned it. Spoiler: that’s not love. That’s survival mode.

The Turning Point: When I Called My Power Back

There came a day (post-tears, post-therapy, post-too-many-spiritual-downloads-at-3-AM) when I realized: my anxious attachment wasn’t my fault, but my healing was my responsibility.

That’s when I started claiming my role—not just in my relationships, but in my life. As CEO of SchellingtonGrin, as a creator, as a coach, and as a reader of tarot who helps others uncover the stories living in their hearts.

This work isn’t just about romantic love—it’s about re-learning how to love yourself like you’re already enough.

How I Started Rewiring My Attachment Style

1. Reparenting My Inner Child

Little me wasn’t asking for too much—she was asking for stability. Now, I give it to her. I get to be the one to say, “You’re safe now. We don’t have to beg to be loved anymore.”

Talk to yourself like you’re both the child and the caretaker. That’s real sovereignty.

2. Delaying the Reaction

I stopped treating every emotional hiccup like a five-alarm fire. Instead, I started to pause. Breathe deeply. And ask:

• What’s really going on here?
• Is this present-day truth or past-tense trauma?
• What story am I telling myself—and do I even want to keep telling it?

3. Practicing Secure Scripts

Secure love sounds like:

• “I trust myself to handle this.”
• “Even if they’re distant, I’m still whole.”
• “I don’t have to audition for love.”

At first, I said them through gritted teeth. Now? They live in my bones.

4. Choosing Emotional Safety Over Chaos

Old me chased chemistry. New me? I choose consistency. I don’t want butterflies—I want deep breaths. I want someone who shows up with both hands, not breadcrumbs. If that feels “boring,” your nervous system might just be detoxing from drama.

5. Releasing the Death Grip on Outcomes

I used to white-knuckle my way through every “what if.” Now, I lean into what is. If love’s meant to stay, it won’t need shackles. It’ll stay because it feels safe—for both of us.

The Glow-Up of Secure Attachment

I want to make something clear when I talk about this next part. Becoming securely attached to things and people is not just about getting the desired relationship. It’s about becoming the version of yourself who doesn’t abandon that wholeness for anyone.

You become magnetic—not because you’re trying harder, but because you’re anchored. You’re no longer frantically looking around the room—you are the room.

And from that place? You attract people who can meet you there. Not perfectly. Not without work. But willingly, and with a sense of self that is unshakeable.

Before You Go: Let’s Journal On It

Healing is personal. It’s layered. It’s non-linear. And it’s incredibly tender. I’m not here to preach from a mountaintop—I’m here as your big sister in the trenches who learned how to hold herself first.

So before you rush off into the next scroll or story, take a beat. Sit with this.

Here are a few journal prompts to guide your heart:

1. What does “emotional safety” mean to me?
2. When was the first time I felt I had to earn love?
3. How can I begin offering myself the stability I seek from others?
4. What would it look like to feel secure—even if nothing around me changes?

Let your pen be your portal. You might be surprised what comes through.

You’ve got this—and you’re not healing alone.

🖤