Why Do I Keep Repeating the Same Relationship (or life) Patterns Even Though They Don’t Serve Me?

First, let me validate something that might surprise you:
Those patterns actually do serve you.

They’re protecting you from something. The problem is that something probably happened a long time ago. The wound never fully healed, so your psyche keeps trying to recreate the situation—as if to say, “Okay, this time I’m going to resolve it.” But instead of healing, the cycle just keeps looping.

I get it. I know that feeling of falling in love and realizing, after a while, that no matter who the person is, the same pattern eventually emerges. The same familiar ache. The same deep yearning for connection—and the same painful sense of being abandoned. It’s discouraging and confusing.

And here’s the kicker: when you feel that old familiar ache, there’s something you habitually do. You don’t like it, but you do it—because for a moment, it works. It helps you survive the distress that feels unbearable. You might pour a drink (or several), binge, restrict, obsessively seek reassurance, ruminate—whatever your thing is. It brings temporary relief. But eventually, it leaves you feeling worse, or pushes people away, or deepens the ache you were trying to escape.

That thing you do habitually? It’s actually the magical entry point to shifting all of this.

💌 If you’ve ever wondered whether what you’re feeling is love—or a trauma bond—I created a free guide that walks you through how to tell the difference and start untangling the pattern with compassion. You can get it here (it’s gentle, clear, and made for moments just like this).

So take a breath—and maybe even thank it.

Sounds strange, I know. But I promise you, there’s a way through to the other side. I know because I’ve been there—and I’m living on the other side now.

Before we talk about how to change it, it helps to understand why your brain keeps doing it in the first place.

Now, let me tell you a story about popcorn. Hang with me—it’s more relevant to this than you might think.

The Popcorn Principle

Habits are formed when we repeat a response in the same setting over and over again. Our brains start linking the behavior with the context—so whenever that context shows up, the behavior fires automatically.

In one study, researchers looked at people who always ate popcorn (behavior) at the movies (context) (Neal, Wood, Wu, & Kurlander, 2011). Even when they were given stale popcorn—popcorn they knew didn’t taste good—they kept eating it. The habit, in the context of the movie theater, was so strong that they could hardly help themselves. They wanted to stop but couldn’t.

The challenge is that habits don’t tend to shift just because we want them to. Intention alone rarely disrupts a habit.

The challenge is that habits don’t tend to shift just because we want them to. Intention alone rarely disrupts a habit.

What does work? Changing the context.

The researchers experimented by having participants watch movies in a different setting, like a classroom. They also had them eat the popcorn with their non-dominant hand. Both changes worked. Simply shifting the environment or the physical experience disrupted the automatic loop. Participants ate an amount that felt satisfying instead of compulsive.

So what does this have to do with your relationship patterns—and that thing you do when you’re flooded with pain?

Everything.

In your case, the context is that moment when your nervous system senses, “Uh oh, this feels like what happened years ago—abandonment.”
The behavior is your automatic coping response: reaching, numbing, overthinking, shutting down.

The link between the two—the feeling of being abandoned and the survival strategy that follows—has been reinforced so many times that it fires automatically. It feels impossible to stop because, in that moment, your brain genuinely believes you’re back in the past.

The key to shifting it? Change the context so your brain can register, “This moment isn’t that moment.”

Now I’m going to show you how to do that. 

How to Interrupt the Loop (4-Step Process)

Step 1 : Name What’s Happening

When the panic or craving rushes in, pause long enough to say to yourself,

“This is my nervous system remembering.”

Why This Works

It might sound simple, but this tiny act of noticing is powerful. The moment you name what’s happening, your brain begins to shift gears. The survival part that runs on reflex starts to calm, and the part that helps you think, reason, and choose—the prefrontal cortex—comes back online.

You’ve just moved from reaction to awareness. And awareness changes everything.

Research shows that simply bringing attention to what’s happening in your body begins to interrupt habitual nervous-system responses (Porges 2011; Farb et al. 2007). It’s like shining a light into a dark room—you start to see what’s actually there instead of just bracing for danger.

What You’re Noticing

Each nervous-system state—safety, mobilization, or shutdown—has its own unique signature in the body.
Maybe your shoulders lift, your chest tightens, your breath gets shallow, or you feel that familiar numb heaviness. Over time, you’ll learn to recognize these cues the way you’d recognize a friend’s voice.

The Common Detour

Most of us skip this step. We jump straight into the story in our mind:
They’re leaving me. I did something wrong. I’ll always be alone.
Those stories aren’t meaningless; they’re just incomplete. They’re echoes of past experiences, not necessarily reflections of what’s happening right now.

The Shift

When you pause and name what’s happening, you’re helping your brain recognize that you’re not back there anymore. You’re reconnecting with your body, creating just enough space between the trigger and the reaction for something new to be possible.
That space—that breath of awareness—is where regulation, healing, and choice begin.

Step 2 : Change the Ending

Now that you’ve uncovered that your body is remembering, it’s time to build a bridge back to the present—to connection and calm.

Gently orient to the present moment. Write down or ask yourself:

• What is different now compared to the original painful experience?
  (For example: I’m an adult now. I’m safe. I have support. I have choices.)
• What in my environment, body, or relationships shows that I’m not trapped in the past?

Each answer helps your nervous system recognize new data—proof that you’re in a safer, more resourced reality.

🪶 Tip: If you need a concrete tool, try the Anchor Practice (linked in my anxiety post). It’s one of my favorite ways to come back to the present when the old story starts to pull me under.

Step 3 (Optional): Shift the Context or Sensory Input

If mindful noticing feels hard—or you want extra support—try changing something physical in your environment or sensory experience:

• Move to a different room
• Shift your posture (stand, stretch, shake out)
• Splash cool water on your face
• Hold a textured object or soft blanket
• Turn on music or open a window

These small shifts tell the body, “Something’s different now.”
When words aren’t enough, sensations can carry the message of safety.

Step 4 : Reassure Yourself

Offer yourself kind, grounding words:

“This is a body memory.”
“It’s real, but it’s not happening now.”
“I have choices. I’m safe enough right now.”

These gentle affirmations consolidate the break in the old pattern and strengthen a new pathway toward regulation.

Bringing It All Together

I’m going to be honest with you.
I’m always more excited about the idea of changing this stuff than the actual process of changing it. Sometimes the practices feel too simple. Honestly, I want a magic fix too.

But retraining the brain and the nervous system doesn’t happen in one dramatic moment. It happens through simple, repetitive steps. They might s

ound too simple. They might not work perfectly the first time. But notice if they shift things just a little—and then do it again. And again.

This isn’t a quick fix; it’s a practice—one that asks for your patience and respect.

Each small repetition matters.

Take it seriously, but not with pressure.

Hold it with tenderness and care, because this is your peace, your freedom, your way back to real connection. It’s our ability to feel safe in love, to connect meaningfully, to live without being ruled by the old loop.

Every time you practice these steps, you’re not just calming your nervous system—you’re building a new relationship with yourself. You’re showing your body that it can trust you now.

And from that steadiness, everything else begins to change.

🌿 If this resonated and you’d like to go a little deeper, I made something for you:
Is It Love or a Trauma Bond? — a free self-reflection guide to help you recognize the patterns that keep you stuck and begin to find your way back to real, safe connection.

Resources:
Neal, David T., Wendy Wood, Mengju Wu, and David Kurlander. 2011. “The Pull of the Past: When Do Habits Persist Despite Conflict With Motives?” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 37 (11): 1428–37. https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167211419863
Stephen W. Porges, The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2011)
Norman A. Farb et al., “Attending to the Present: Mindfulness Meditation Reveals Distinct Neural Modes of Self-Reference,” Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience 2, no. 4 (2007): 313–322, https://doi.org/10.1093/scan/nsm030.