How traumas shape your attraction patterns is something I didn’t even clock until I was 32, sitting in a Waffle House off I-40 in Tennessee at 3 a.m., realizing the guy across from me was literally giving me the same dismissive energy my dad gave me in 1998 when he missed my eighth-grade graduation for a Titans game. Like, same half-shrug, same “you’ll be fine” vibe. I almost laughed out loud in the middle of my scattered hashbrowns because the universe has zero chill.
Why My Trauma Literally Picks My Boyfriends For Me
I swear on my half-dead houseplant that every dude I’ve seriously dated has had at least three of these traits: emotionally unavailable, hates talking about feelings, weirdly competitive with me, disappears for days, then comes back like nothing happened. Sound familiar to anyone else? Because it’s textbook how traumas shape your attraction patterns. My therapist (bless her, she’s earned every dollar) calls it “repetition compulsion.” I call it “why do I have a PhD in chaos.”
Real talk: I once dated a guy who kept a literal spreadsheet of how many times I texted vs. how many times he texted because “fairness matters.” That should’ve been red flag number 47, but no, I stayed for 14 months because he reminded me of how my mom used to ration attention like it was the last pack of Pokémon cards.
The Most Embarrassing Story I’ve Never Told Anyone Until Right Now
Junior year of college I flew across the country for a guy who told me he “wasn’t ready for anything serious” but missed me. Spent $600 I didn’t have. He ghosted me the second I landed. I sat in the Denver airport crying into a Cinnabon so hard the cashier gave me an extra one for free. That moment lives rent-free in my head, and yet… I still downloaded Hinge again two weeks later looking for the exact same vibe. Trauma’s wild, man.
The Science Bit (But Make It Messy)
There’s actual research on this (shoutout to the book Attached by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller, and also this study from the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology). Basically childhood attachment wounds create templates. If love felt scarce or conditional growing up, your dumbass brain goes “ooh scarce and conditional = familiar = safe = HOT.” It’s not you being broken, it’s your nervous system doing the absolute most.
- Anxious attachment → you chase avoidants like it’s your full-time job
- Avoidant attachment → you chase anxious people then freak out when they need you
- Disorganized → hi, that’s me, I do both at the same time and set myself on fire for fun
How I’m (Slowly) Rewiring This Dumpster Fire
I’m not fixed (lol), but here’s what’s kinda working lately:
- I made a “no” list: no musicians, no one who says “I’m bad at texting,” no one whose love language is “acts of disappearance”
- started noticing the physical feeling in my body when someone gives me that familiar stomach-drop (it’s literally the same feeling I got at 10 when dad said “maybe next weekend”)
- therapy, EMDR specifically, it’s weird but I swear I feel lighter
- dating hiatuses longer than 30 days (revolutionary concept)
Yeah, I Still Mess Up Though
Last month I matched with a guy whose entire personality was “I’m figuring my shit out.” Reader, I swiped right so fast my thumb cramped. The awareness is there, the execution is… ongoing.
Look, if you’re reading this and feeling seen in the most excruciating way, you’re not alone. How traumas shape your attraction patterns isn’t some cute little quirk, it’s a whole haunted house you keep willingly walking into. But at least now when I walk in, I’m holding a flashlight and muttering “I see you, bitch.”
If this hit way too close to home, do future-you a favor: book the therapy appointment you’ve been “meaning to.” Or hell, just send this post to the group chat and make everyone uncomfortable with you. Either way, stop dating your childhood wounds in a leather jacket.
Here are the natural, credibility-boosting outbound links I’d weave into the post (plus exactly where I’d drop them so it still feels like I’m just rambling to a friend):
