History repeats itself.
This is why for millennia, human behavior remained largely unchanged. We repeat the programs taught to us in early childhood by our parents. Patterns that began with their parents, and their parents before them, ad infinitum, forever and ever, amen.
If our learned behaviors are neurological patterns that are programmed from the first six years of life; watching our parent’s dysfunctional patterns – and their patterns were based upon the same process of their own parents, then essentially, aren’t we just a copied program of someone else’s copied program? It’s a wonder anything ever changes at all. It makes me feel a little cranky, tbh.
It’s not so much that humans had essentially remained in a state of stasis for thousands of years. In a world largely unchanged, the necessity to build something better just doesn’t exist for most people. Our primitive brain likes the familiar. Familiar is safe.
Of course, there has been the occasional exception of someone extraordinary setting out to discover new worlds, and in more recent times, understand the human body, unravel the human mind, cure diseases, build a “driving machine, or a flying machine, a thinking machine, or send humans into space. Evidence that in some ways, we are evolving.
What makes me frustrated is that even with all of our science, all of our knowledge, all of our advances, and all of the understanding we have gained in terms of the nature of the universe and the human mind, we humans; the only species that we know of on the planet capable of doing all the amazing things we do with our minds, still become our parents.
We still inherit all of the bullshit that our parents inherited from their parents. We still repeat many of the same dysfunctional, addictive, and sometimes even abusive cycles of the generation before us. Not everyone, of course. But many of us. 95% of us, according to the statistics. We fuck up our relationships, our children, our health, our careers, friendships, and the planet itself because growth is hard and our primitive brain likes to keep things niiiiice and easy. That’s safety, right?
But safe is not the same as sanity. As evolution. As happiness. If you have read any of my previous blogs, you probably know that though the primitive human brain is designed for safety, once we commit to growth and new discovery, our dopamine baseline goes up. This means we feel happier overall. So why do we repeat the same damaging and dysfunctional processes and patterns over and over over the course of a lifetime?
To give you a poignant example of this, let me share a very personal story.
Have you ever been in love? Have you ever felt so over-the-moon infatuated with someone they were always on your mind, and when you were apart it felt like a piece of your soul was missing because it had taken up residency with theirs? Have you ever felt so deeply for someone that you forget bits of yourself in your desire to be closer to them? Felt so intensely that suddenly all of the fairy tales, the love songs, the cheesy movies that you had eschewed your entire life in favor of the practical, of action, of learning, of strangeness, of anything other than romance, suddenly made sense?
I experienced this, once. When it happened, It caught me completely off guard. I wasn’t looking for a relationship; in fact, I was actively avoiding being involved with anyone beyond my family and close friends. When I met him at a random event I was attending with friends, there was an instant attraction, but we both figured it would be a fun friendship as we had many wonderful commonalities. But a relationship wasn’t on the table for either of us. So when I realized a month or so into our getting to know one another that (oh, damn) I reallly liked this person – and the energy between us was definitely far more than friendship, It was very unexpected – yet somehow seemed inevitable. Meant, even.
At first, we fed each other in the most amazing ways. I think that we had called to each other across the universe because we each had unique needs that only the other could reach. Could fill. I saw his heart; who he was, beyond the taught patterns, and that person was magnificent to me. I don’t meet a lot of people who feel extraordinary, but he did.
When we were together, it was electricity. It was passion, heat, joy, and a profound sense of connection. We moved together in a way that I hadn’t been able to sync with anyone else before. When we kissed, I could almost see the energy that connected us. The first time we spent an evening together, there was a moment when we spontaneously broke into song at exactly the same moment. When we snuggled on the couch together, my body wound around him in a way that felt instinctual.
When we weren’t together, I would dream of him. Nearly every night. In one dream, we met in star-filled sky and our souls danced together. I had not even dreamt of my former spouse more than once or twice in all the years that we were married, and certainly had never had the experience of meeting his soul in a place that felt like Eternity.
But what struck me the most about the way that we felt was that when I was in his physical presence, I felt a sense of being home; of being centered in my heart in a way that I am not sure that I had experienced before. Everything else fell away and it was just us. It was incredible.
Until it wasn’t.
Because of life circumstances, we were not able to see each other more than once a week. At first, I thought it was the perfect scenario. I am working on getting a couple of books written and have a typically full and busy life outside of that. I really didn’t have time for a relationship. But over the weeks and months that passed, I noticed a pattern emerging in the way we communicated when apart. Between the times that we would see each other, I would text, or email, to connect with him. Communication is absolutely a huge aspect of my “love languages”. I communicated to feel connected, even though we were apart. The day that we would see each other physically, he would send wonderful little messages to let me know that he was thinking of me. That he cared. But the following day, his responses would become slower. By the third day apart, consistently, the tone of his messages, when he would eventually respond, would be distant. Casual.
This was incredibly difficult for me and I would find myself dysregulated; triggered and emotional in a way that I had never been before. My assumption of his distance would be that in spite of the way it felt when we were together, he obviously didn’t have the depth of feeling that I had. I felt like he didn’t value me as a human, let alone as his love. I felt alone in what was supposed to be a relationship. I would become so sad and frustrated that I would end up sending “break up” emails that seemed too easy for him to agree with.
To add a little context to this highly dysregulated psychological state, I am posterchild ADHD. When I was diagnosed as an adult, it was one of the biggest “aha” moments of my life. So many things about the way my brain works suddenly fell into place. It is probably important to mention that I have never considered it a “handicap”; in fact, in many ways, it is a superpower.
I am able to think outside of the box; to see the “bigger picture” in life in ways that not many can. I am deeply empathetic. I can hyperfocus like a mofo when I’ve got a project that I enjoy or a deadline that is really a deadline to fulfill. Drug addiction probably wouldn’t ever be a problem since stimulants don’t affect me as they do others. The few times I tried cocaine in my early twenties, I fell asleep and very much wanted to on MDMA. For the most part, I love my ADHD brain and I wouldn’t change a thing about who I am.
But there are a few things that I have to be really careful about how I navigate in the world. I absolutely must have a place next to my door where I drop my keys and hopefully, my phone when I come home. I try to have a specific place for anything essential because the panic that happens every time I misplace something important is intense; a common aspect of the ADHD brain circuitry. Alcohol tends to enhance the absentmindedness of ADHD so I try to limit my consumption. If I don’t have a consistent routine around work, I am a huge procrastinator. But the one aspect of ADHD that as an adult, I had not felt the full force of until this relationship was the “Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria” that also comes with this particular neurological wiring.
Basically, because of the neurological structuring and synapse firing pertaining to emotional regulation around failure or feeling rejected, a “failure” or “rejection” to someone with a non-adhd brain might feel annoying or frustrating. But to someone with ADHD, that same experience is acutely painful.
As a child, when my parents would be upset with me or say something mean, I remember feeling genuinely devastated; certain that they did not love me. But because of the abuse I suffered if I displayed any emotion, I learned to bury those feelings. Along with most of the rest of my emotions.
I began healing from much of that childhood trauma in my late twenties, and it is still a process. Healing and growth are a lot like archaeology – the more you unearth, the more you discover. But I have definitely uncovered my ability to feel big things.
This fact became very apparent in this particular relationship as I found myself feeling and thinking that he didn’t care. That he did not love me, as he had said he did. That I must just be a casual fling to him – and to someone who knows their worth, I am no one’s casual fling. Added to the inability to regulate my emotions over this, childhood abandonment issues over my father began to surface, compounding the pain I was experiencing. So every time I would feel him pulling away, I would go into massive fight or flight/dysregulation, which would lead to a breakup. Which would trigger his own abandonment issues, causing him to be hurt and mistrustful of my feelings.
I am not saying that my Dysphoria and abandonment issues were the only problem here. His lack of communication was not emotionally healthy. I had explained several times not only that communication was vitally important to me; but also that the extreme dysregulation and sadness that I felt when things went casual or to radio silence between us was an aspect of my neurological processes. I believe that his inability to “hear” me on this was a reaction to his own past trauma and dysfunctional childhood patterns, but in a healthy relationship, when someone you love tells you that there is a foundational need, you do your best to protect their heart and fill that need. Sometimes, his own dysregulation would trigger his “fight” mode, occasionally becoming controlling or even cruel in his words and actions, or flight, pulling away from me completely.
What had been an incredible, life-expanding experience of energy and love with so much potential became toxic for both of us.
Because of how deeply I felt for him, each time I would try to break it off, the pain of not being with him at all was worse than the pain of the dysfunction that happened in our communication patterns. So we would begin talking, and then seeing each other, and the pattern would repeat itself, ad infinitum, forever and ever amen. See what I did right there, cycling back to the beginning?
But here’s the thing. I believe that there is a sentience to the Universe and that we are here because we are meant to grow – to expand into that sentience. I believe we are given the lessons we need to help us achieve just this, but we have free will and have to be willing to see and respond to the lessons rather than react to them. We were the medicine that each of us needed to heal, even if it tasted bitter at times.
I believe that if we had both been able to become aware of the lessons we were being presented and grown past our pre-programmed reactive behaviors, we could have eventually attained a depth of relationship that is rarely seen. The energy that was between us was like the seeds of stars that if cultivated and nurtured, could have been something of incredible beauty. Those stars could have birthed new galaxies.
But instead, we fell to the earth. Crashed and burned. Like so many other relationships. Like so many careers that we sabotage. Like so many opportunities for growth and adventure that we ignore. Like so many broken children who never have the opportunity to grow into the amazing adults that they could be.
All of this f#cked up behavior because we become our parents instead of doing the hard but rewarding work of growing beyond their learned patterns of behavior.
I don’t regret the experience I had with him. How could I? We shared this amazing thing, for a little while, and Lord, did I ever learn so much from everything we shared, the bitter medicine along with the sweet. As much heartbreak, heartache, and sorrow that it caused, I know that it also brought to the surface of my consciousness things that would never have healed if I had not gone through it all. But I do feel sad for what could have been. What we could have achieved and grown into, together. I feel sad for all of the shared adventures that could have been.
Perhaps this, too, is part of the lesson. And why I share this story, in spite of its deeply personal nature. Because maybe something here feels a little familiar. Resonates in a way that you might understand and relate to – and perhaps, it might be a lesson that you can learn from. How might you be sabotaging your own relationships or other important aspects of your life? What programs are you teaching your children?
If we can just shine some light on those patterns that do not feel good to us and commit to altering those programs for the betterment of our own lives – and those of future generations, we can all avoid these painful lessons. We can separate the chaff from the wheat, choose to take in that which nourishes us rather than that which poisons us and those we come into close contact with.
Here are a few questions that might help with that process:
- How do my relationships feel? What unhealthy patterns can I see that might be carrying over between relationships, friendships, the way I interact with my peers, parents, and children? If you can see a “through line” in unhealthy patterns, that would be a good place to start.
- How do I communicate with others? Do I feel safe to express my feelings and thoughts in a healthy manner?
- What are my coping mechanisms? Do I use them as occasional supports or constant crutches?
- Am I able to take accountability and responsibility for my words and actions? Or do I tend to blame others for my problems?
- What is my relationship with my parents or caregivers? Do I hold resentment or anger towards them? If so, what is the source of that emotion?
- Where do I hold pain in my body? Understanding Somatic Memory can be healing.
- How do I care for myself when I am feeling down, or under the weather? We all know the incredible benefits of good self-care, but implementing those habits can be harder. This goes back to self-value and foundational belief systems. Aren’t you worth good care?
- Do I keep my word to myself?
- What are my most foundational desires and needs – those that go back to childhood? Is it safety and security, a desire to express thoughts and feelings freely, a need for freedom and adventure, a wish for artistic expression…what feels like your personal truth? When you can pinpoint those original needs, look at how they were suppressed, repressed, or denied completely. Did you move a lot but wanted a stable home? Did you miss out on building a relationship with a special friend or a relative? Did your parents mock your desire for adventure, tell you to “get your head out of the clouds” (relatable), or insist that you followed the “rules” rather than your own direction? Did you become an accountant instead the artist you wanted to be because that is what your parents or caregivers told you to do? As adults, we can begin to give to ourselves those things that our parents, likely in a desire to protect us, would or could not give. I can not stress enough how healing this practice can be.
- How do I treat those I am in closest relationship to? Do I treat them with value, respect, and love? Do I honor and reciprocate their personal ways of expressing love – their “love languages”? Do I have healthy communication and dialogue with them? Do I take action to cultivate growth in my relationships? If not, why? How can you begin to shift these patterns to feel good?
- What is my self-talk? Do I commend the amazing person I am – or offend? Do I like myself? The way we speak to and treat ourselves is a clear indicator of our deepest programming. Do you find yourself saying things like “I am not important” “I’m an idiot” or “The only luck I have is bad luck” “I am powerless” or “I guess I’m just a b#tch/a$$hole.” I have actually heard people saying these things. It makes my heart sad every time. Our subconscious mind is always listening in on the things we tell ourselves. When we can switch up the internal dialogue, we can begin to lay down new, happier, healthier programs.
Babe, you are deserving of every good thing. Of magic and miracles and dreams fulfilled. ✨✨✨
But I can promise you that you will never expand into the free-est, happiest, and highest version of yourself until you learn to put down the heavy burden of dysfunctional and toxic learned behaviors and begin living life on your own terms, from a place of self-love and good mental health. From that place, you just might be amazed at how life unfolds. As Dr. Seuss famously said –
“Oh, the places you’ll go! You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself (in) any direction you choose.”
Big love. 💖
- Terah
This Blessed Sacred Life 