How "I'm the Logical One and They're the Emotional One" Can Be a Form of Avoidance

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Let me describe a scene I see in my office constantly:

A couple sits on my couch. One partner is leaning forward, voice rising, tears threatening. "You never tell me how you feel about anything! I don't know where you are!"

The other sits back, arms crossed, voice steady and measured. "I'm right here. I'm talking to you. I'm being calm and trying to have a rational conversation about this. You're the one getting all worked up."

One feels crazy. The other feels like the reasonable one. And they're both stuck.

Here's what the "logical" partner will often say to me when the other steps out: "Look, I'm just the logical one in the relationship. They're the emotional one. That's how we work. I keep things calm, they feel things deeply. It's just our dynamic."

And here's what I need to say—and maybe to you, if you've ever said something similar:

That's not a dynamic. That's avoidance.

Wait—If You're There Talking, How Is That Avoidance?

I know. It doesn't feel like avoidance. You're sitting there. You're engaging. You're talking about the issue. You're not walking away, slamming doors, or shutting down completely.

So how could this possibly be avoidance?

Because people have incredibly sophisticated ways of creating distance from emotions. And identifying as "the logical one" is one of the most effective—and most invisible—forms of emotional withdrawal I see.

Here's the trick: You can be physically present, verbally engaged, and still be miles away from the emotional content of the conversation.

You're there in body. You're responding with words. But you've erected an invisible wall between you and anything that might make you feel vulnerable, scared, or out of control. You've wrapped yourself in "logic" and "rationality" like armor.

And from behind that armor, you tell yourself: "I'm the calm one. I'm the reasonable one. I'm keeping things stable while they fall apart."

But what you're actually doing is avoiding the hell out of your emotions. And theirs.

The Guise of "Keeping Things Calm"

Let's be really honest about what's happening when you position yourself as "the logical one."

You tell yourself (and maybe your partner) that you're doing everyone a favor. You're being the steady one. You're not "getting emotional" like they are. You're keeping things rational, measured, under control. Someone has to be the adult in the room, right?

But here's the truth: You're not keeping things calm. You're keeping things distant.

From an Emotionally Focused Therapy perspective, what Sue Johnson would call this is withdrawal. Not the obvious kind where you leave the room or shut down completely. The subtle kind. The kind where you stay engaged on the surface while checking out emotionally.

You're answering their questions, but not with feelings—with facts.

You're responding to their pain, but not with empathy—with solutions.

You're "discussing" the issue, but you're keeping it all in your head, carefully away from your heart.

And the whole time, you're convinced you're doing the right thing. You're being "logical." You're not "overreacting." You're helping.

But what you're really doing is avoiding the difficult emotions that come with real intimacy.

The Sophisticated Distance of "Logic"

Here's what makes this form of avoidance so insidious: It looks like connection.

Other forms of avoidance are obvious. When someone:

  • Walks out of the room → clearly avoiding

  • Shuts down and goes silent → clearly avoiding

  • Changes the subject → clearly avoiding

  • Gets defensive and attacks back → clearly avoiding (even though it looks like fighting)

But when someone stays in the conversation, maintains eye contact, speaks in measured tones, offers logical analysis? That looks like someone who's engaged. Present. Trying.

Except they're not.

What they're doing is staying at a cognitive level—in their head, analyzing, problem-solving, rationalizing—while completely bypassing the emotional level where real connection happens.

It's like showing up to a concert and spending the entire time reading the program notes about the music instead of actually listening to it. You're there. You're engaged with content about the experience. But you're not actually in the experience.

When you're "being logical" during an emotional conversation, you're doing the same thing. You're engaging with content about the relationship while avoiding the actual emotional experience of the relationship.

What You're Really Avoiding

So what are you actually avoiding when you retreat into "logic"?

From a Relational Life Therapy perspective, your "adaptive child"—that protective part of you that learned long ago how to stay safe—is terrified of something. And "being logical" is how it protects you.

Here's what you might be avoiding:

Your own vulnerability. Feelings are messy. Unpredictable. Hard to control. If you let yourself feel what's actually happening in your relationship—the fear, the longing, the inadequacy, the sadness—you might feel overwhelmed. So you stay in your head where things are manageable.

Their pain. When your partner is upset, crying, expressing hurt—that requires an emotional response from you. Empathy. Sitting with discomfort. Acknowledging that you might have caused pain. That's scary. So you shift into problem-solving mode, or explain why they shouldn't feel that way, or analyze what's "really" happening. Anything to avoid just being with their pain.

The possibility that you don't have answers. Logic gives you the illusion of control. If you can analyze it, understand it, explain it, then you have power over it. But emotional content doesn't work that way. Sometimes there's no solution. Sometimes you just have to feel it together. And that uncertainty is terrifying.

Admitting you're scared. This is the big one. Being "the logical one" lets you avoid admitting that you're afraid—of conflict, of them leaving, of not being enough, of being overwhelmed, of losing control. As long as you can stay rational and calm, you don't have to face those fears.

So you call it "being logical." But what it really is? Self-protection.

The Impact on Your Partner (The "Emotional One")

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Let's talk about what this does to them.

When you position yourself as "the logical one" and them as "the emotional one," here's what they experience:

They feel pathologized. Their emotions get labeled as "too much," "irrational," "overreacting." Meanwhile, your lack of emotional expression gets labeled as "reasonable," "stable," "mature." The message: Their feelings are the problem.

They feel alone. They're reaching for emotional connection, and you're offering logical analysis. It's like speaking different languages. They say, "I feel scared about us," and you say, "Statistically, couples go through phases like this." You think you're helping. They feel dismissed.

They start doubting themselves. When you stay calm and they're upset, when you're rational and they're crying, they start to wonder: Am I crazy? Am I too sensitive? Am I the problem here? They begin to believe the narrative that they're "too emotional" rather than recognizing that you're not emotional enough.

They escalate. This is the protest polka. The more they feel you're emotionally unavailable, the more they pursue—louder, more intensely, more "emotionally." You see this as proof that they're "the emotional one." But what's really happening is that they're turning up the volume because they can't get through to you at normal levels.

They eventually give up. At some point, they stop asking for emotional connection. They stop crying. They stop reaching. And you might feel relieved—Finally, things are calm! But what's actually happened is that they've accepted that you're not emotionally available. They've stopped hoping. And that's not calm. That's resignation.

Why This Doesn't Actually Work

Here's the thing about avoiding emotions by being "logical": It doesn't actually keep things calm. It keeps things stuck.

You might not be fighting. Things might seem "fine" on the surface. But underneath, the disconnection is growing.

Every time you meet their emotional bid with logic, you're reinforcing the distance between you. Every time you explain instead of empathize, you're teaching them that their feelings aren't safe with you. Every time you pride yourself on "staying calm" while they're upset, you're missing the point: Calmness without emotional presence is just absence.

From an EFT perspective, you're failing to be A.R.E.:

  • Accessible: You're physically there, but emotionally behind a wall

  • Responsive: You're responding with words, but not to what they actually need

  • Engaged: You're engaged with the topic, but not with their emotional experience

And relationships don't thrive on logic. They thrive on emotional connection, vulnerability, and the willingness to feel things together—even when it's uncomfortable.

What "The Logical One" Actually Needs to Do

If you've recognized yourself in this post—if you've said or thought, "I'm just the logical one in the relationship"—here's what needs to change:

1. Admit that "being logical" is a defense mechanism.

Stop telling yourself it's a personality trait or a helpful role you play. It's not. It's a way you've learned to protect yourself from emotional discomfort. And it's costing you intimacy.

2. Get curious about what you're avoiding.

What happens in your body when emotions come up? What are you afraid might happen if you let yourself feel? What did you learn growing up about emotions? Start exploring this—ideally with a therapist.

3. Practice getting uncomfortable.

You've been avoiding emotions because they're uncomfortable. The only way to change is to start sitting with that discomfort. When your partner is upset, resist the urge to fix it or explain it away. Just sit with them. Feel your own discomfort. Stay anyway.

4. Learn the language of feelings.

If you've spent decades in your head, you might not even have the vocabulary for emotions. Start simple: "I feel scared." "I feel sad." "I feel overwhelmed." Practice saying these out loud, even when it feels awkward. Sharing primary emotions—fear, hurt, sadness—creates connection in ways that logic never can.

5. Validate their emotional experience without fixing it.

When they're upset, try: "That sounds really hard." "I can see why you're feeling that way." "Tell me more about what's happening for you."

Not: "Here's what you should do." "Let me explain why that's not actually a problem." "If you just look at it this way..."

6. Stop positioning yourself as "the calm one" and them as "the emotional one."

That binary is false and harmful. You're not "calm"—you're avoidant. They're not "overly emotional"—they're appropriately emotional while you're under-emotional. Start talking about it as "I have trouble accessing my emotions" rather than "They're too emotional."

7. Admit when you're scared.

This is the hardest one. But it's the most important. When your partner is pressing for emotional connection and you're retreating into logic, what you're often really feeling is scared. Scared of conflict. Scared of inadequacy. Scared of feeling out of control.

Say that. "I'm scared right now." "I'm afraid I'm going to mess this up." "I feel overwhelmed and I don't know what to do."

That's vulnerability. That's the opposite of logic. And that's what actually creates connection.

They're Not "Too Emotional"—You're Emotionally Unavailable

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Let me say this plainly: The problem is not that your partner is too emotional. The problem is that you're not emotional enough.

Emotions are not the enemy. They're not something to be managed, controlled, or avoided. They're the currency of intimate relationships. They're how we connect. How we know each other. How we feel safe together.

When you label yourself as "the logical one," you're not being helpful or stable or mature. You're opting out of half of what makes a relationship work.

And when you label your partner as "the emotional one," you're not accurately describing a personality difference. You're pathologizing their very appropriate need for emotional connection while excusing your very problematic emotional absence.

It's time to stop hiding behind "logic" and start showing up emotionally.

This Is Hard Work (And You'll Need Help)

I'm not going to lie to you: If you've spent years—maybe decades—avoiding emotions by being "the logical one," changing this pattern is going to be hard.

You're going to have to feel things you've been successfully avoiding. You're going to have to sit with discomfort instead of analyzing your way out of it. You're going to have to admit that you're scared, vulnerable, and uncertain—all the things you've been protecting yourself from.

But here's what's on the other side of that work: Real intimacy. The kind where your partner feels truly known by you. Where they don't have to scream to get through. Where they can trust that when they reach for you emotionally, you'll actually be there—not just physically, but with your whole heart.

You can't logic your way to that. You have to feel your way there.

Need Help Learning to Show Up Emotionally?

If you've recognized yourself in this post—if you've been using "being logical" as a way to avoid emotions—you don't have to figure this out alone.

I work with couples (and individuals) using both Emotionally Focused Therapy and Relational Life Therapy to help you identify your patterns of emotional avoidance, understand what you're protecting yourself from, and develop the skills to show up emotionally even when it's uncomfortable.

Book a free video consultation and let's talk about how therapy can help you move from hiding behind logic to showing up with real emotional presence—and how that can transform your relationship.

Your partner doesn't need you to be "the logical one." They need you to be emotionally present. Let me help you learn how.