Add Silicon Canals to your Google News feed. ![]()
Ever notice how your friends roll their eyes when you introduce them to someone new you’re dating? That subtle “here we go again” look that makes you defensive even though, deep down, you know exactly what they’re seeing?
I used to think I had terrible luck with relationships. After my last breakup, I found myself in therapy, convinced that the universe had it out for me. But when my therapist asked me to describe my past partners, something uncomfortable started to emerge.
Different names, different faces, but underneath it all, the same fundamental dynamics playing out over and over again.
What I discovered through that process wasn’t just about bad dating choices. It was about something psychology calls “repetition compulsion,” and once I understood it, everything about my relationship patterns since college suddenly made sense.
You’re not choosing them, your unconscious is
Here’s the thing that really messed with my head: we’re biologically wired to seek out the familiar, even when the familiar hurts us. Psychologists have found that our brains literally light up with recognition when we encounter relationship dynamics that mirror what we experienced growing up.
When my parents divorced when I was twelve, I thought I’d learned what not to look for in relationships. Turns out, I’d actually created a blueprint that I kept following without even realizing it. The emotional unavailability I swore I’d never tolerate? I was actively attracted to it, mistaking that familiar feeling of trying to win someone over for genuine chemistry.
Dr. Harville Hendrix, who developed Imago Relationship Therapy, explains that we unconsciously seek partners who embody both the positive and negative traits of our primary caregivers. We’re essentially trying to recreate our childhood environment to finally get it right this time. Except we rarely do, because we’re working with the same broken tools.
The comfort zone that’s keeping you stuck
You know that instant connection you sometimes feel with someone? That “they just get me” sensation that makes you ignore red flags?
According to attachment theory research, that might not be intuition or destiny. It could be your attachment system recognizing familiar patterns. If you grew up with inconsistent caregiving, you might find yourself drawn to partners who are hot and cold. If love meant constantly proving your worth, you’ll probably chase after people who make you work for their affection.
I remember meeting someone at a conference who seemed perfect on paper. Stable, kind, genuinely interested in me. But I felt nothing. Meanwhile, the person who kept canceling plans and took days to text back? Couldn’t stop thinking about them. My nervous system was literally more comfortable with uncertainty than security.
The research on this is pretty sobering. Studies show that people with anxious attachment styles are more likely to be attracted to avoidant partners, and vice versa. It’s like we’re magnetically drawn to recreate the exact dynamics that hurt us most.
Your self-worth is choosing your partners
Remember when I mentioned that professor who told me I wrote like I was afraid to have an opinion? That comment haunted me for years, but it also revealed something crucial about how I showed up in relationships.
Psychology tells us that we accept the love we think we deserve. If deep down you believe you’re too much, you’ll gravitate toward people who make you feel like you need to dial yourself down. If you believe you’re not enough, you’ll find partners who confirm that belief through their actions.
During my burnout period, when I was forced to reconsider my relationship with productivity and self-worth, I realized I’d been choosing partners who reflected my own self-abandonment. Every time I ignored my own needs to keep someone else happy, I was basically advertising for partners who would expect exactly that.
Dr. Kristin Neff’s research on self-compassion shows that how we treat ourselves internally directly impacts the treatment we accept from others. When we’re our own worst critics, we’re essentially training people to treat us poorly by modeling it for them.
The stories you tell yourself become prophecies
“All the good ones are taken.” “I always attract narcissists.” “People just can’t handle my intensity.”
These aren’t observations; they’re scripts. And according to cognitive behavioral research, the stories we tell ourselves shape what we notice, how we behave, and ultimately, who we attract and are attracted to.
After trying three therapists before finding one who actually challenged me instead of just validating everything, I learned about something called confirmation bias in relationships. Basically, once we believe something about ourselves or relationships, we unconsciously seek evidence to prove ourselves right.
If you believe you always attract emotionally unavailable people, guess what you’ll notice most about potential partners? Their unavailability. You might even unconsciously test available partners until they pull back, confirming your belief.
Breaking the pattern requires getting uncomfortable
Here’s what nobody tells you about changing your relationship patterns: the right person might initially feel wrong. When you’re used to chaos, calm feels boring. When you’re used to chasing, being chosen feels suspicious.
My therapist had me do this exercise where I listed what felt familiar and comfortable in relationships versus what actually aligned with my values and needs. The overlap was disturbingly small. Security felt boring. Consistency felt suspicious. Being prioritized felt uncomfortable.
Psychologist Dr. Stan Tatkin talks about how our brains resist change because familiarity equals survival from an evolutionary perspective. Even if our patterns are destructive, our nervous systems recognize them as survivable because, well, we survived them before.
The work isn’t just about recognizing patterns; it’s about tolerating the discomfort of different ones. It’s sitting with the anxiety of being truly seen. It’s resisting the urge to create drama when things feel “too quiet.” It’s choosing response over reaction when those old triggers get pushed.
Final thoughts
The uncomfortable truth about why we keep attracting the same type of person isn’t that we’re cursed or that all the good ones really are taken. It’s that we’re unconsciously committed to stories and patterns that feel like home, even when home wasn’t healthy.
Understanding the psychology behind our choices doesn’t make change automatic or easy. But it does give us something powerful: the ability to pause between trigger and response, between attraction and action. That pause is where different choices live.
The next time you feel that familiar pull toward someone, ask yourself: is this recognition or is this repetition? The answer might be the difference between another round of the same story and finally writing a new one.















