Why Some Men Swing from Relationship to Relationship

When I was a child, the monkey bars in our local park terrified me. Not because of the height, but because of that moment when you had to let go of one bar before grabbing the next. The pause - that brief suspension in mid-air - was the part I hated most. My hands ached to cling to something, anything, rather than face the fear of falling.

Years later, I realised I’d been doing the same thing, like many other men, in my romantic relationships. We swing from one to the next without ever really letting go, without pausing long enough to work out who we are in between. The thought of being single can feel like standing in mid-air - exposed, unsteady and unsure how long we can hold our own weight before dropping into the unknown.

In our twenties and thirties, we might tell ourselves this is just how life works - you meet someone, you build something, and if it ends, you dust yourself off and find someone new. In truth, we’re not dusting ourselves off at all. We’re carrying the dirt and debris of old hurts straight into the next relationship. We don’t give ourselves the time to grieve, reflect or really see our part in what hasn’t worked.

Attachment and the Fear of the Gap

Looking back, I can see that this pattern is partly about attachment. Psychologist John Bowlby, who first described attachment theory, suggested that our earliest bonds teach us how safe it feels to be alone. If solitude once felt like abandonment, then the gap between relationships can feel unbearable.

For many men, silence is deafening. It amplifies the inner critic - that voice whispering ‘you’re unlovable, you’ll always be alone, you weren’t good enough’. It’s easier to keep moving, to have someone there to reassure us we’re worthy, than to sit with the discomfort of our own company.

As Brené Brown reminds us, “We can’t selectively numb emotions. When we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive ones.” When we rush to the next relationship to avoid loneliness, we also shut down curiosity, compassion and the chance to know ourselves more deeply.

Identity Without the Relationship

When a relationship ends, many men feel stripped of identity. Who am I if I’m not someone’s partner? For years, I equated being loved with being valuable. So much of male self-worth can come from being chosen, wanted and needed. Without that reflection, we risk feeling like shadows of ourselves.

Part of this stems from how many boys are raised - to be doers, providers, protectors. As Bell Hooks observed in The Will to Change, patriarchy often robs men of an emotional identity beyond performance and productivity. When a relationship ends, we may lose not just a partner, but a sense of purpose.

Outrunning Grief

And then there’s grief. Even when we’re the ones to end things, there’s a sadness we often don’t know how to hold. We’ve been conditioned to push through and “get on with it.” A new relationship feels like the perfect distraction - but in reality, it’s like painting over a crack in the wall without fixing the foundations.

Grief researcher William Worden wrote that healing requires active mourning - acknowledging the pain, adjusting to life without the relationship, and finding new meaning. Skipping that process doesn’t make the grief disappear; it just disguises itself as urgency - the restless search for the next bar to grab.

The Courage to Pause

It took me years - and some painful lessons - to learn that the pause between relationships is not a void to be feared, but a space for growth. It’s where we can finally meet ourselves without the filter of someone else’s expectations.

I often think back to those monkey bars. The secret I never learned as a child was that the scariest part - the moment in mid-air - was also the moment of possibility. Hanging there, you have the chance to notice your own strength, to trust you can hold your weight, and to decide where you truly want to go next.

Therapy can be that space - a place to explore who we are without reaching for the next bar, to process grief, and to rebuild a sense of self not dependent on being chosen.

Now, I can see that those pauses are essential. They give us room to heal, reflect and create a life that feels full and meaningful on our own terms. And when we do choose to take hold of the next “bar,” it’s not out of fear of falling, but because we genuinely want to share our journey with someone else.

Sometimes the bravest thing a man can do is to let go, feel the gap and resist the urge to grab the next bar. Because that’s when real change - and real freedom - begins.

Written by Andy