Stonewall, avoid, defend, blank - “Get me outta here” heroes
This is a huge topic, so I’m offering a few lenses rather than a grand theory. We’ll look at stonewalling/blanking through:
Internal Family Systems (IFS)—parts work and trauma
Nervous system/PV—polyvagal-informed IFS
Relationships—Intimacy From the Inside Out (IFIO) and the Gottman approach
Neurodivergence—both intrapersonal avoidance and interpersonal dynamics
Spoiler: in IFS, stonewalling is a protective part. We’ll ask: Why do people stonewall? Why do we avoid and defend? Why do parts detach and build emotional walls—inside us and between us?
Some of these behaviours protect us internally (avoiding overwhelm, keeping exiles out of awareness). Some are interpersonal, shaped by the impact of another’s behaviour and by repeat cycles in relationship. Our aim is to understand and befriend the avoidant/blanking/stonewalling parts with IFS, so they don’t have to work so hard.
The wider backdrop
Many of us experience the world as increasingly unsafe—war, climate emergency, polarised, parts-led leadership. One response is to speak up and call out injustice (often at personal cost). Another is to turn away—avoid, tune out, numb—because it feels too painful or dangerous. Both make sense.
The difficulty is that our younger parts still sense danger; they need contact with Self. Even if it’s “too much” out there, we can work in here—individually and collectively—so our systems feel safer and we can choose our responses.
What’s coming
We’ll begin with a polyvagal-IFS frame (how stonewalling maps onto nervous-system states), then move into IFS directly, before zooming out to IFIO (IFS couples therapy) and a few Gottman pointers. I’ll also touch on neurodivergence—both personal avoidance patterns and relational misattunements.
If you prefer to watch, there’s a short video below for spiral learning; otherwise, read on.
(For the therapists amongst you I’d like to draw attention to the work of Joanne Twombly – Trauma and Dissociation Informed IFS; how to successfully treat complex PTSD and Dissociative Disorders. She also has some great interviews on IFS Talks. I refer to her a lot and use in my own work. Dissociation is a massive topic and I can’t do it justice here). https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/76734893-trauma-and-dissociation-informed-internal-family-systems
First, a nervous-system lens
I really recommend Deb Dana’s work blending IFS with polyvagal theory (for example: https://internalfamilysystems.pt/multimedia/webinars/polyvagal-meets-ifs-talk-deb-dana). I’ve sketched a diagram from one of her talks; the key idea is that, ideally, we move fluidly between states across the day. She also speaks about each of us having a “home from home”—a state we’re more likely to default to (shaped by genetics, neurology, history, etc.).
For me, that’s often sympathetic. Others may spend more time in dorsal. Both can show up as “avoidance”:
Sympathetic avoidance: staying busy to avoid, controlling by going silent (an active “silent treatment”), or simply “fleeing”.
Dorsal avoidance (today’s focus): when the parasympathetic system isn’t in restful “rest and digest” mode but in survival—collapse, flop, submit, hide, deflect, withdraw. In its healthy version, dorsal can look like quiet solitude and restorative stillness; in survival, it feels shut-down.
Two mixed states are easy to confuse:
Freeze can look dorsal, but the body is also primed (muscles and threat systems on alert)—a sympathetic–dorsal combo.
Fawn is likewise mixed: there’s submission/shut-off from Self (dorsal) while simultaneously frantic doing to appease (sympathetic).
As you read, check in: How does your avoid/stonewall pattern feel in your body—breath, posture, muscle tone, urge to move or to go still? That somatic map is gold for understanding what’s happening and what might help.
From an IFS perspective
First, there may be cultural and familial legacy burdens at play (e.g., the British “stiff upper lip”, children should be seen and not heard). Perhaps someone in your family went quiet, or one parent criticised while the other withdrew. Many avoidant patterns are things parts learned to protect you from vulnerability.
These avoidant parts can be Managers or Firefighters—or both. I don’t know your system; only you and your parts do. So here’s an invitation to ask inside.
Managers (proactive protectors)
We’ve spent time this year with Martha Sweezy’s shame cycle—especially the Anticipatory Scouts: “Never again will I feel lonely/sad/ashamed.” Do you have parts that avoid as a way of life—I won’t go out / shop / attend the reunion?
Try the 6 F’s:
Find: Where do you notice this part in/on/around your body? Can you hear/see/feel it?
Focus: Let it know you’re with it.
Flesh out: What do you notice?
Feel: How do you feel towards it?
Befriend: What is it trying to do for you? What are its hopes for you? What doesn’t it want you to feel or face?
Find the history: When did it first arrive? How old were you then?
Firefighters (reactive protectors)
These move after activation—whatever it takes to bring the system down. Something external (what someone said/did) or internal (a thought, an exile stirred) spikes your arousal—heart rate up, muscles tense—and a part might quit, dissociate, turn away or stonewall. Some parts may even use silence to control or punish, or avoid to duck responsibilities or sidestep boundaries.
Again, ask inside:
What is this part helpfully trying to do for you?
What are its hopes for you?
What just occurred that it wants to squash down?
When did it first come in? How old were you?
Can it see you now? How old does it think you are?
Exiles
Exiles often hide; avoidance can be tangled up with their not having been seen. Check inside: is the avoidance the burden/identity they took on (“I must stay invisible”)? When these young parts are met by your Self—the you who is not a part—they may begin to trust, relate, and be with you, rather than needing to disappear.
IFIO, Gottman, and RLT: pursuer–distancer dynamics
I often see pursuer–distancer pairings. Intimacy from the Inside Out (IFIO—the couples version of IFS) helps here: one partner typically seeks closeness and contact; the other leans towards autonomy and space. Both can end up feeling overwhelmed and misunderstood.
These patterns are frequently borrowed from our families—how our caregivers related to each other—or shaped by attachment disruptions (inconsistent caregiving, divorce, loss). To complicate matters, different parts of the same person can hold different attachment styles, and these can shift with different partners.
Stepping briefly into Gottman: pursuers tend to use complaint/criticism/demand (and, if contempt creeps in, outcomes worsen). Distancers tend to defend, then withdraw/stonewall—the familiar “protest polka.” Gottman’s “Four Horsemen” (criticism, defensiveness, contempt, stonewalling) are well worth reading about, along with their antidotes (e.g., gentle start-up, taking responsibility, building appreciation, physiological self-soothing).
In IFIO, we invite a U-turn: notice the part that’s up, speak for it (not from it), and share the need underneath. Partners learn to track the cycle together (that sideways-∞ pattern): When you do X, my nervous system does Y; then my part does Z… This de-blends protectors and makes room for vulnerable truth and workable requests.
RLT: the “withdrawal” losing strategy (and what to do instead)
Relational Life Therapy (Terry Real) names five losing strategies: being right, controlling your partner, unbridled self-expression, retaliation, and withdrawal. Withdrawal (including stonewalling, shutting down, going numb, disappearing into work/phone/silence) temporarily lowers arousal but erodes trust and intimacy.
In IFS terms, it’s usually a protector (often dorsal-leaning) trying to prevent shame, escalation, or overwhelm; in the relationship, it lands as abandonment.
Seen this way, withdrawal isn’t “bad”; it’s a part doing its best. IFIO helps you befriend that part, Gottman gives you early warning signs and antidotes, and RLT offers direct, behavioural pivots to stay in connection without sacrificing self.
Gottman and the pursuer–distancer loop
Gottman’s research with thousands of couples suggests that partners who get stuck in this pattern in the first few years of marriage have over an 80% chance of divorcing within four to five years. Without realising it, many pursuers come on stronger than they intend; being in “pursuit mode” often triggers their distant partner to withdraw even more. Likewise, by pulling back, a distancer frequently provokes their partner to pursue more vehemently. Gottman also found a common trend (not a rule): in intimate relationships men tend to withdraw and women tend to pursue.
Neurodivergence: individual and interpersonal
A word on neurodivergence and relationships between different neurotypes—both individually and interpersonally.
Individually: if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. We’re all different; our dials are set higher or lower in different ways. (For context, I identify as AuDHD—both autistic and ADHD.) It’s often part of the autistic/ND Self to need a lot of solitude—this is not avoidance; it’s restorative. I genuinely need time away from everyone to decompress and meander. That said, I also have parts that avoid. The chapter on neurodifferences in Altogether Us (Candice Christiansen & Meg Martinez) offers a helpful frame: neurology = hardware; managers/firefighters = software; exiled burdens = software viruses. For me, retreat is frequently a response to physiological overload (too hot/cold, noisy, bright). Procrastination or avoidance may stem from overstimulation or low dopamine.
If any of this resonates—especially if childhood felt “different”, or you’re struggling to fit in, or you’re partnered with someone whose neurology differs from yours—I really encourage learning more. A great starting point is this conversation:
https://tammysollenberger.com/ifs-and-neuro-differences-with-candice-christiansen-and-meg-martinez/
Interpersonally: I love the gestalt bunny/duck picture—what do you see? Perhaps I see a bunny and you see a duck. Neither is wrong; we each have strengths, but we can easily clash when our brains experience the world differently. Our society isn’t built for many neurodifferences, which can be especially exhausting—hence the need for more rest and solitude. Understanding this reduces shame, normalises needs, and helps couples negotiate authentic connection without pathologising difference.
Interpersonal neurodifferences
‘Avoidance’ may be an attempt at self-regulation, not rejection of a partner. Rejection sensitivity can be significant for some of us; when your partner withdraws for a time, notice whether a part of you feels rejected and moves to blame. At other times (hopefully less often), withdrawal can be about avoiding a hard truth—for example, wanting to end the relationship but not wanting to hurt the other, or needing to admit something while feeling too ashamed.
Resource: Neurodiverse Couple Therapy: A Practical Guide to Brain-Informed Care by Kelli Murgado-Willard—clear, practical, with helpful exercises for couples and family therapists: https://loveallthebrains.com/
Neurodifferences
A few ideas inspired by Kelli Murgado-Willard’s book—there’s much more there. Some of us who are more impulsive or hyper-focused may inadvertently feel emotionally smothering to others, especially if we’re less aware of interpersonal boundaries. When this combines with C-PTSD (e.g., parental neglect where the child became the caretaker), a relationship can even become a hyperfixation or special interest. (And just to underline: there’s nothing wrong with you at your core. Many of us were told we were “too much” for our parents. Sometimes, interpersonally, we simply need adaptations—inviting others to tell us when they’re saturated or zoning out.)
Kelli M-W reminds us that neurodifference-related difficulties rarely come from malicious intent. (NB: I’m not talking here about the more extreme, diagnosable end of narcissism or entrenched self-involvement.) Many issues respond well to psychoeducation about healthy relational dynamics and to building skills on both sides. A lot of us also need to learn how not to mask at home—being more ourselves, and saying no.
A brief personal example with my son: I can get very excitable, and I notice he withdraws. Recently, when I was sharing something, he held up a hand and said, “Stop.” He’s learning to say, “Mum, I love you; I need 10 minutes.” A part of me can feel rejected, but I remind myself that’s my RSD; I’m OK, and this is valuable learning between us. He isn’t avoiding me—he’s signalling that, in that moment, our interaction is too much. I then celebrate our connection and feel proud he can name this.
Kelli M-W also notes that with neurodivergent couples the “usual” therapy moves often don’t work. A distancing ND partner may need extra support and skill-building in self-regulation to feel comfortable initiating connection (if they want to). We might need to tweak our interpersonal habits. The good news: there’s a growing body of neuro-affirming couples work and therapists trained in neurodifferences. These relationships can be deeply fulfilling—with lots of curiosity, clarity and compassion.
Conclusion: stonewalling/avoiding through an IFS lens
If we bring everything together, stonewalling isn’t a character flaw; it’s a protective strategy. Through an IFS lens, what looks like “shutting down” is usually a coalition of protectors—sometimes proactive managers (long-standing avoidance, “keep the peace”, don’t rock the boat), sometimes reactive firefighters (sudden blanking, quitting, disappearing)—all working to prevent contact with exiled pain, shame or fear. Polyvagally, that often shows up as dorsal collapse or mixed states (freeze/fawn): the body says “too much” and flips the breaker. None of this means you—or your partner—are bad. It means parts are doing their level best with the conditions they learned in.
So the task isn’t to smash the wall; it’s to befriend the bricklayers. The move is the U-turn: notice, name and meet the part that wants out (“I can feel a part shutting down”), and the part that wants in (“I need to fix this now”). Use the 6 Fs to create a Self-to-part connection, add somatic supports (feet, breath, orienting), and titrate. Often, simply validating a withdrawing part’s purpose—“you’re protecting me from overwhelm”—is what creates enough safety for it to soften.
In relationship, patterns matter more than moments. IFIO’s infinity loop helps couples see the cycle (“when you pursue, a part of me distances; when I distance, a part of you pursues”). Gottman’s Four Horsemen remind us that criticism fuels defensiveness which fuels stonewalling. RLT adds that withdrawal is a losing strategy: it may lower heat short-term but it starves connection long-term. The antidotes are structure and repair: pre-agreed time-outs (with a stated return time), speaking for parts not from them, and circling back to name impact and needs.
Context matters. Legacy burdens (family/cultural rules about silence, class, gender, race, ability), neurotype (sensory and dopamine needs), and current power dynamics all shape why a wall appears and how quickly. For ND folks, “avoidance” is often regulation, not rejection; build in sensory breaks, slower pacing, and alternative channels (texting/writing) so Self can stay in the lead.
What progress looks like: you (both) spot early body cues; you narrate states (“a part of me is going numb—can we pause for 10 minutes and I’ll come back at 4.30?”); you return when you said you would; you repair without blaming; you can disagree without threat; and over time your system can stay in contact a little longer before protectors need to step in.
A few final notes:
If there’s current danger, prioritise external safety; do not ask protectors to stand down.
Rule out medical contributors to shutdown (sleep, thyroid, meds, concussion, etc.).
Treat “stonewalling” as a trailhead, not a verdict. Be curious about which part is doing what for whom.
Celebrate micro-shifts. Two breaths, a named feeling, a negotiated pause—these are bricks laid toward connection.
Underneath every wall is a nervous system asking for safety and a young part asking to be seen. When Self brings calm, clarity and compassion to those protectors—inside you and between you—the wall becomes a doorway.