The Patterns We Carry

At first, it always feels like magic. The butterflies. The electric connection. The ease of conversation, the laughter, the rush of newness. In those early stages, love feels effortless. So does friendship. You meet someone and it just clicks. You share your dreams, your wounds, your favourite shows. You feel seen. Understood. Chosen.

Eventually, the newness fades. Life becomes less about first kisses and more about finances, childcare, health issues, aging parents, and stress. Someone forgets your coffee order or stops truly listening. This is often when the real work begins. It is also when many people start to notice patterns they did not realize they were repeating.

Esther Perel, one of the world’s leading voices on modern relationships, often explains that we unconsciously seek out romantic partners who mirror the unresolved dynamics from childhood. Many are drawn to what feels familiar, even if it does not feel safe. If your earliest experience of love involved unpredictability, criticism, emotional distance, or overwhelming attention, you may find yourself drawn to similar dynamics again and again.

There is a belief that a new relationship means a new beginning. However, many people unknowingly choose partners who make them feel exactly how they felt growing up. The patterns are rarely obvious at first. They often appear in different clothing. The charming partner may slowly become emotionally unavailable. The supportive friend might start to criticize once you begin to shine. The partner who feels like a safe structure might eventually leave you feeling trapped. These cycles are subtle but deeply rooted.

Esther Perel explains that “we bring our unfinished business into our relationships.” Chemistry can quickly give way to conflict when old wounds begin to surface. This is why the beginning of love feels exhilarating. It touches longing. As routine sets in, those deeper unresolved emotions begin to rise. A forgotten birthday can feel like the birthday no one celebrated when you were little. A friend who stops calling might evoke memories of being left out or overlooked.

These responses are not always from our current self. They come from younger parts of us that still carry hurt. When a relationship ends, whether it is a marriage, a long-term partnership, or a deep friendship, it often feels like a failure. In truth, it can be an opening. An invitation to reflect. To look within. To ask what we were really seeking.

It is important to ask yourself what you were trying to find when you entered the relationship. What parts of you did that person reflect or trigger? Were you trying to fix a feeling you had carried since childhood? Most importantly, what do you genuinely need now?

This is the beginning of true self-awareness. Not in the high of early connection, but in the stillness that follows endings. It is when you are alone with your thoughts and ready to take a more honest look at yourself.

Many people emerge from long relationships feeling disoriented. They thought they wanted someone reliable, exciting, accomplished, or affectionate. They later realize that what they truly longed for was to feel worthy, to feel safe, to feel noticed and accepted. Real clarity often comes after pain.

Self-realization is not just found in books or therapy sessions. It comes through lived experience. Through seeing the same pattern appear with a different name and finally deciding to choose differently.

This reflection also applies to friendships. Earlier versions of yourself may have tolerated being overlooked, dismissed, or taken for granted. You may have accepted relationships that did not feel fully nourishing because you feared confrontation or loneliness. That version of you was doing the best they could. Now you may want something different.

You can desire friendships that feel equal, kind, and expansive. You are allowed to let go of connections that no longer serve your growth, even if they once played an important role in your life. You can grieve what once was while stepping toward what you now need.

Healing does not mean you will never be triggered again. It means you will notice the trigger and respond with awareness rather than habit. You will know how to pause, how to ask yourself better questions, and how to move with more intention.

Real love, whether romantic or platonic, should not feel like a constant repair job. It should feel steady. It should allow you to grow into who you are, not shrink you into who you once were. It should feel safe to be seen.

If you find yourself caught in a pattern, it is not a sign of weakness. It is a signal to pause. The lesson will keep returning until it is understood. Once it is, your story begins to change.