Have you ever felt the need to be extra careful around someone?
You watch your words, second-guess your thoughts and emotions, and you’re unsure how much of yourself you can share. Or worse—maybe someone said they have to walk on eggshells around you.
I recently saw a post on Instagram that read:
“If you have to walk on eggshells around them, and have anxiety speaking to them, that toxic relationship will only add to your stress. It’s okay to let go of these relationships.”
It made me cringe. Not because there isn’t truth in it—some relationships are toxic, and some people are not safe—and still, that post lacks nuance. Walking on eggshells isn’t a definite sign that the other person is unhealthy. It might be a sign that you don’t feel safe with yourself. Ouch.
Before you decide to blame yourself, end a relationship or allow it to fade away, let’s talk about it. First, I’ll share why this might happen. Then, I’ll offer gentle ways you can assess your relationships with others.
Why Grievers (And People in General) Walk on Eggshells:
To break this down, I want to look at it through three lenses:
- Knowledge – What’s happening
- Understanding – A personal experience that shows how it plays out
- Wisdom – How to approach it differently
Knowledge: The People-Pleasing Thread
If you’re someone who has struggled with people-pleasing—whether before grief or as a way to hold relationships together afterward—walking on eggshells might feel familiar.
Many of us learned early on that love was given when we were “good,” quiet, and easy. We became attuned to others’ moods, careful with our words, and afraid of being too much or too needy.
Then loss came, and suddenly, your needs grew bigger, messier, and harder to hide. The old patterns you had resurfaced: Don’t be a burden. Don’t make things harder. Don’t ask for more than what they’re willing to give. We make ourselves small in grief, despite wanting to be held.
Understanding: What This Looks Like in Action
I remember a time when someone I cared about asked me what I needed, what I hoped for, and what mattered to me. While the question was appreciated, it made me deeply uncomfortable. Tell you what I need? What I want? That’s vulnerable.
The truth is, it didn’t feel risky because they were unsafe or dismissive. It felt risky because I wasn’t used to having my needs considered. I had spent so much time focused on others that I rarely stopped to consider what Ashley wanted.
It’s easy in moments like this to decide, “I won’t tell them because they aren’t safe.” But that can become projection—placing thoughts into someone else’s head simply because we’re the ones experiencing discomfort. The projection trap makes us speak on behalf of others, assuming what they think and feel instead of acknowledging our own fears. Looking back, I wasn’t walking on eggshells because they couldn’t handle my needs. I was walking on eggshells because I was afraid to voice them.
And that wasn’t their responsibility to fix. It was mine to work through. And guess what? That isn’t their fault. It was for me to work on.
Wisdom: A Gentle Invitation
If you find yourself walking on eggshells in a relationship, before you assume the other person is toxic, reflect.
Ask yourself:
- Have I clearly communicated what I need?
- Have I given them a fair chance to support me after telling them?
- Am I assuming they should “just know” and figure it out? Then, get angry or disappointed when they don’t? (Quick tip: People aren’t mind readers.)
Yes, it’s true—some people are unsafe and should be avoided. However, others want to love you better; they only need you to receive it.
Unresolved Trauma
Knowledge: If you’ve experienced relationships where conflict led to abandonment, rejection, or harm, it makes sense that even in safe relationships, you might still brace yourself for if it happens again.
Grief can intensify this. Loss already teaches us that people can be here one day and gone the next. Mix that with a history of crumbling relationships when things got hard, it makes sense that your nervous system prepares to see the worst in others—including when nothing has gone wrong.
…with a history of crumbling relationships when things got hard, it makes sense that your nervous system prepares to see the worst in others—including when nothing has gone wrong.
Understanding: I remember a time when I needed to express something hard to someone I cared about. I rehearsed it in my mind, trying to soften the words, trying to anticipate their response. I almost didn’t say anything at all. If you were raised in a culture or family where certain emotions weren’t welcome, it makes sense that now, you hesitate. You question whether speaking up is safe. You feel guilty for having needs.
Not because they aren’t safe. Not because they don’t love you.
But because a younger version of us remembered what happened the last time we spoke up—how love was withheld, how the person disappeared, how we were left feeling.
Wisdom: If you find yourself bracing for rejection every time you express yourself, it might not be about the person in front of you. Sometimes, it’s about the ghosts of past relationships—the ones that taught you that speaking up meant losing love.
And that’s the real work: not just finding safe people but trusting that you won’t be abandoned for being yourself.
Ask yourself:
- Am I responding to this person, or am I reacting out of a past wound that’s being triggered?
- Has this person ever shown me they would leave if I expressed my needs?
- Do I feel comfortable having this need?
Because sometimes, the fear of being left makes us leave ourselves first.
Attachment Styles – Anxious, Avoidant, or Disorganized
Knowledge: Our attachment styles—how we learned to connect and seek comfort in relationships—can deeply impact how we show up after loss.
- If you lean anxious, you might walk on eggshells to keep people close, overthinking every word, worrying they’ll leave if you’re too much. “I have to do nearly everything to keep them.”
- If you lean avoidant, you might emotionally check out before someone even gets the chance to hurt you, convincing yourself you don’t need them anyway. “I’ll leave them before they can leave me.”
- If you lean disorganized, you might feel both—desiring closeness while fearing it, pushing and pulling in relationships without knowing why. “I want to be seen, but I’m afraid to be heard.”
And after grief? These patterns can become even stronger because now, you’ve lived through the ultimate loss.
Understanding: I’ve had clients overanalyze every interaction, replay conversations, and question if they said something wrong. And if someone pulled away? They assumed it was their fault.
I’ve also had clients tell me they avoid intimacy altogether. They keep people at arm’s length, convincing themselves that “I can only be safe with myself. I’m the only one I can trust.” Relying on others meant being vulnerable, and that feels risky, a disappointment waiting to happen.
Wisdom: Your attachment style isn’t a fixed destiny but instead a learned pattern. And patterns can be changed.
Ask yourself:
- Am I anxious in relationships, always fearing someone will leave?
- Am I avoidant, pushing people away, or staying to myself because it feels safer?
- Am I both, wanting people present with me, while fearing harm will happen?
If so, where did I learn that opening up to others wasn’t safe? Once you recognize the pattern, you have the power to change it.
Do I Invite Openness in My Relationships?
And lastly, if you’re someone who’s been told, “I have to walk on eggshells around you,” take inventory:
- How do I respond when someone tells me what they need or want? Do I get defensive, feel interested, or make them feel welcome?
- Does it make me uncomfortable when someone requests what I can’t fulfill now?
- Do I give to others with resentment or as an unvoiced expectation for them to return the favor?
Wrap Up
Walking on eggshells isn’t always a sign that a relationship is toxic—it can also reflect our past wounds, fears, and patterns. As you grieve, heal, and grow, the work isn’t just about identifying unsafe people—it’s also about learning to trust yourself and those who genuinely want to love you.
Remember: Healing isn’t the absence of fear; it means recognizing when you’re allowing it to lead your interactions and then choosing differently.
What if you instead invited openness? What if, instead of fearing rejection or harm, you gave yourself the chance to receive love?
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