The Cycle of Comfort: When Old Patterns Become New Problems

Have you ever loved someone, not romantically, but a different kind of love, a love that made you feel part of something, a love that felt like home? We usually experience this as children. We see it all around us: a child holding onto a parent’s leg and not wanting to go to daycare or scared on the first day of kindergarten. That person is their safe space, the one they feel secure with, the one who feels like home.

For me, that was my mother. She was my human. She was not perfect and did a lot of things that, in today’s world, DHS would question. Some of the situations she brought us into were truly unsafe. People on the outside would probably wonder what she was thinking, bringing her children into those environments.

I did not view it like that. I felt like my mother, no matter the circumstance, kept us together. I worried a lot and eventually felt like my mother’s protector, while also feeling like she was home. I understood her pain and the things she carried from her own childhood. She searched for a love that felt like home, and that is also why she felt like home to me. She gave us what she never felt but always searched for.

The situations we found ourselves in were not because my mom did not care or because she was comfortable putting us in danger. My mom, in my opinion, normalized chaos. She took us along on her search for love, and in doing that, I learned to normalize chaos too. She attached herself to unhealthy relationships as a way of survival and in the hope of finding someone who would truly care. She spent her entire life searching.

She was married. She also had a boyfriend. She even kept a few old relationships on the side. She kept the same friend circle she had always known, with only a handful being true friends. The rest were chaos.

My mother and my sister passed away right as I reached my teen years. That loss did not just mean my mom and sister were gone, but my home was gone. It meant my sense of self was gone too. I learned to stay busy, suppress emotions, mask, and avoid the right kind of love while welcoming the wrong kinds. I was unaware that I began searching as my mother did. Unaware of my own actions because I did them very differently than my mother, I began repeating the patterns I learned through her.

I wanted a spouse who loved me enough to feel like home. I was searching for safety and security, and in doing that, I fell for love bombing and manipulation. I found myself in several unloving, emotionally draining relationships and a marriage that broke me. I remember asking myself, “Why is this happening to me?”

The truth is, I was vulnerable. I did not live my life exactly like my mom. I felt like I was doing better. I believed I had learned what not to do from her. But the truth is, I only changed the patterns just enough so that I was not repeating her behavior exactly. I was creating my own version of chaos.

I dated the same type of men over and over again. If one was slightly better than the last, I would excuse his poor behavior because at least he did not do what the last one did. I also found myself over-caring and trying to love people the same way I loved my mom, but my expectation was that others would love me the way my mom loved me.

I did not just bring this need into romantic relationships. I have been guilty of holding my own child to an unrealistic expectation of love. I have said, “I just want you to love me the way I loved my mom.”

It took my daughter to make me realize that I was not allowing others to love me authentically because I was looking for something familiar, a lost love, a home that no longer existed. I was living in the ashes of what was. My daughter cannot love me how I loved my mom because she is not me, and I am not my mother.

Isn’t it interesting how we do not see our own behavior? How we feel fine, and we mask, and we move through life oblivious to our own chaos. Yes, I have been in some horrible relationships, and we will dive into that, but would I have been in those relationships if I was not searching for a love that no longer existed?

There are people in this world who will see your vulnerability, who will prey on your weakness, who have their own demons. In order to truly shift, to become, you have to first pinpoint your contribution to the chaos in your life.

Last week, I asked you to take out a notebook and write down what you carry with you. This week, I want you to write down how you have taken that pain and repurposed it. How have you done it just a little differently, so the chaos you’ve known continues to show up in your life?

I ended up repeating many of my mother’s mistakes, but I did not recognize it because, unlike my mother, I did not financially rely on men. My mother did not work; she relied on men to take care of her. I decided early on that I did not want to rely on anyone, so I’ve always worked. In my mind, I would never place myself in my mom’s shoes. I would never be stuck in a relationship I did not want because of finances. I would never have to run from man to man. Even if I made less, at least it would be mine, and I would be able to count on myself.

But your emotional currency is greater than any financial one. Unknowingly, I repurposed my childhood and continued the patterns I had learned. Yes, I changed a few things, so it looked different. I could say it was different, but the learned behavior was the same.

As you write this week, truly think about the baggage you carry and how you have repurposed it just enough to convince yourself it is different, while the pattern underneath has stayed the same.

But anyway,

Cara