
I heard something that caught my attention this week and I have to share it. You may not be at all interested or you may think it’s a bunch of hooey, and if so, please do click away. I’m pretty hard to offend. But if you can make it through the psychobabble, the end is worthwhile.
This is interesting to me because in my few years of therapy, I’ve heard about attachment more than once. I even read a whole book on attachment last year and still came away not understanding the difference between attachment styles and having no idea which one I have. It’s all so confusing.
Here’s what I *think* I know. (Please keep in mind that I have zero expertise in this area, except for Googling—I am an expert at that.)
Our attachment style is formed in childhood through our relationship with our primary caregiver(s). There are four types of attachment: secure, anxious, avoidant, and disorganized (a combination of anxious and avoidant).
Basically, a child needs to have her needs met: physical, emotional, psychological, social, all the things. If a parent (caregiver) is attuned to the child, the child’s needs will be met even when they are not expressly stated. Have you ever seen a two-year-old have a meltdown and they don’t know why they’re crying? Turns out that’s universal. It’s up to a parent to *know* what the child needs and meet that need. That’s attunement.
Sometimes the child is having a meltdown because she wants candy for dinner. In that case, because the parent knows that’s not good for the child, the parent will say, “Sweetheart, Mama knows what’s best for you, and it’s not candy for dinner. I understand that makes you sad, but Mama makes the rules. Would you like to tell me how you feel?”
Based on this example, I was not an attuned parent. Not only did I not let my children have candy for dinner, but I didn’t ask them how they felt about it. They were alone with their emotions. (Sorry, kids.) Maybe this is an obnoxious example, but I hope you get the picture. Children (and adults) want/need an empathetic witness, and leaving a child alone with their big emotions feels to them like abandonment.
Anxious attachment
According to Google’s AI, anxious attachment “may develop when caregivers are inconsistent or unpredictable in their responses.” Sometimes Mama is tired at the end of a long day and she says flatly, “No, you’re not getting candy for dinner.” Another day (when she has more emotional energy) she says, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. Mama knows candy for dinner isn’t good for you. I can see you are sad about that. Tell me more about how you feel.” She is inconsistent in her responses and the child stays confused. That’s anxious attachment.
Avoidant attachment
This type of attachment “may develop when caregivers are emotionally unavailable or dismissive of the child's needs.” This parent says “I don’t care what you want; you’re not getting it. And quit your whining.” The child knows her parent will rarely be attuned to her needs so she stops seeking an attachment. That’s avoidant.
Disorganized attachment
This type “may develop when caregivers exhibit frightening or contradictory behavior.” One day Mama is syrupy sweet and empathetic, and another day she flies into a rage at the mere mention of candy. The child never knows which one she’s going to get. She is always caught off guard.
Secure attachment
The fourth attachment style is the one we all wish we had: secure. This is the result of parents who are well attuned to the child and her needs almost all the time, and when the parent slips and gives an abrupt or angry response, the breach is quickly repaired. The child knows she can always count on her caregiver to meet her needs. She knows she will not be abandoned. She has a secure attachment.
Here’s what brought this up for me this week: I was listening to an episode of The Virtual Couch podcast with Tony Overbay, LMFT, and the topic of attachment came up. Typically this makes my eyes glaze over and all I hear is Charlie Brown’s teacher. But then Tony made one statement that snapped me out of it:
“A secure attachment makes a child feel safe, seen, and soothed.”
And a light bulb immediately came on. Maybe it was the alliteration, or maybe it was that I’ve heard this stuff so many times it finally clicked.
But the thought I have not been able to forget this week is that this is exactly what the Lord does for us. He makes us feel safe, seen, and soothed.
Safe
I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.
You could read Psalm 4:8 two ways. You could say “thou, LORD, only …” meaning, the Lord is the only one who makes me dwell in safety. Or you could say “thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety,” meaning, he makes me dwell in only safety and nothing else. Either way, I am safe. What a relief.
Seen
In Genesis 16, Sarai, Abram’s wife, got impatient and sent her maid Hagar in to Abram to bear a child, thinking it would be like having her own child. (Dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.) So Hagar went in to Abram and became pregnant. Sarai got mad and “dealt hardly” with Hagar, and Hagar ran away.
God found her in the desert and instructed her to go back to Sarai, and said he would multiply her seed exceedingly etc. (You can read the story in Genesis 16). Then Hagar
called the name of the LORD that spake unto her, Thou, God, seest me … (v 13)
She was amazed that God saw her in her difficult situation and then cared enough to speak to her. El Roi = God who sees.
In Psalm 139:16, David writes,
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect …
2 Chronicles 16:9 says,
For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him.
If there is one thing I’ve learned in the last year, it is that God sees me. He knows my situation and is not surprised by anything that happens. If nothing else, he sees me.
Soothed
Even when a child wants candy for dinner and is upset that she can’t have it, a mama can soothe her. I was not good at this part of parenting—but God is.
The most obvious example is in Psalm 23. Verse 4 says,
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
No matter how dire my circumstances, the Lord is with me, and that in itself is a comfort.
But then 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 says he is
the God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulation …
In Psalm 46:1,
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
In Psalm 34:18,
The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart …
He soothes and comforts us.
God is the ultimate parent. With him we can have a perfect, secure attachment.
We are safe. We are seen. We are soothed.
Amen.