Why Do We Seek “The One”?
When we are trapped in the cycle of codependency, it is easy to get stuck on the idea that our happiness depends on finding a romantic soulmate or the one who will complete us. We start feeling like if we just find this perfect person who meets all our expectations and desires, then everything else will fall into place. We become so focused on this idealized version of love that we forget about ourselves and our own needs in the process. It can be hard to break out of this mindset because it feels safe—it gives us something tangible to strive for—but ultimately, it keeps us stuck in unhealthy patterns.
How Can We Shift Away from Focusing on “The One”?
In order to heal from codependency and create healthier relationships for ourselves, we must begin by shifting our focus away from finding the one or searching for external validation from another person. Instead, we must work toward accepting ourselves as worthy; we are deserving of love without having to search outside ourselves for it. This can involve engaging in self-care activities such as journaling, meditating, being mindful about how we speak to ourselves internally, or seeking help from a professional therapist if needed. Learning how to set healthy boundaries with others is also essential for creating thriving relationships because it helps us establish clear expectations within our interactions with others while still allowing space for self-expression outside the context of those relationships.
THE PERFECT PARTNER DOES NOT EXIST
We all want to find the perfect partner in life, don’t we? Someone who understands us, loves us unconditionally, and appreciates our quirks. But what if I told you that this perfect person does not exist? It may be an unpopular opinion, but it’s true.
Before you become discouraged, however, let me explain why this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
We often focus on looking for red flags when it comes to dating instead of seeking out green flags. Looking for red flags is important; it keeps us safe and helps us avoid unhealthy relationships. However, instead of just searching for red flags in order to protect ourselves from potential hurt or manipulation, why not focus on embodying the green flags? Instead of simply searching for a “perfect partner,” why not strive to become one?
When it comes to a relationship with a soulmate or even just someone we enjoy spending time with, both parties are constantly learning how to love each other better, growing together as they go through life. This means that the relationship will ebb and flow like the ocean tide—sometimes turbulent and other times calm, but never stagnant. Embrace these changes, because they make your relationship unique and meaningful.
No two people are ever exactly alike; there will always be differences between partners no matter how great their connection is or how compatible they appear to be on paper. This doesn’t mean that you have chosen incorrectly; it means you chose wisely because you know what works for you better than anyone else does! Celebrate those differences because they are what makes each individual special. They add more depth and richness to your relationship as a whole.
The perfect partner does not exist, but that doesn’t mean we should stop searching for something better than what we’ve been putting up with. Instead of looking for red flags in others so that you don’t have to pay attention to your own, strive toward embodying green flags and cultivating a healthy partnership with someone who loves you unconditionally despite your imperfections. When two people are willing to learn from each other and grow together, anything is possible. Don’t give up hope—keep looking until you find someone who brings out the best in you!
When navigating the dating world, it’s important to be mindful of the advice you listen to. Unfortunately, some dating advice is rooted in codependency and insecure attachment, and it only leads to unfulfilling relationships and a lack of personal growth.
Here are some examples of unproductive dating advice to watch out for:
Playing Hard to Get: This approach may seem like a way to make someone interested in you, but it only creates a false sense of mystery and distance. In reality, it’s better to be honest and genuine in your interactions.
Waiting for the Other Person to Make the First Move: This pattern reinforces the belief that you are not worthy, and it encourages a fear of rejection.
Not Being Too Eager: This advice suggests that showing too much interest is unattractive and will push someone away. In reality, being open and authentic about your feelings is a key aspect of a healthy relationship.
Rejecting Someone’s Advances to Make Them Chase You: This is a manipulative and unhealthy approach to dating that can result in creating trauma bonds early in the relationship.
Not Asking About Someone’s Intentions for Fear You’ll Chase Them Away: This advice is based on the belief that being direct and asking for what you want is unattractive. However, having open and honest communication is the foundation of a healthy relationship.
Going with the Flow and Not Asking Questions: This approach encourages you to ignore your own needs and desires and go along with what someone else wants. It’s important to be assertive and communicate your own wants and needs in a relationship. Next time you come across this type of unproductive dating advice, remember to prioritize your own needs and desires, be genuine and authentic in your interactions, and establish open and honest communication.
Part II
UNLOCKING THE PATTERN
6
Shadow and Ego Work
My dad passed away when I was eleven years old. The last thing he said to me was, “Daddy will always be there for you.” I still remember our last hug and watching him wave goodbye at the airport. He died three weeks later.
Years later, my therapist helped me appreciate that in the months after he passed, I was in denial. His death had been sudden and unexpected, and as a child I had a hard time believing he was gone. I didn’t go to the funeral, so I had nothing to hold on to as closure. My therapist explained that I was still that little girl waiting for her dad to reappear. She helped me see how that trauma showed up in my life, even during something as trivial as a date. It was heavy.
Ah, there you are, repetitive compulsion. My therapist showed me how I was reenacting the pain of losing my dad and wondering whether he would ever come back home. I wanted the man I was dating to show up in the way that my dad didn’t. My dad couldn’t all those years ago, and whichever man I was dating at the time reenacted that. While I didn’t consciously understand my father’s unexpected death as abandonment, my inner little girl felt it that way and my ego was determined to create a different ending to the story. With every new man, I gave my inner little girl hope that my dad—played by this person—would show up.
The highs and lows I experienced after my father’s passing were also present in my dating life. I dated men who would bait me, ghost me, and then love-bomb me. The cycle mimicked the coupling of my childhood grief with my fantasy that my dad could soon return from a long trip.
My therapist said, “It was never about him,” the man I was dating at the time. “This is about your dad.”
That’s when I met my attachment wounds and trauma responses, live and in color. I fawned amid this new man’s empty apologies, holding back my own anxiety, sadness, and rage about how I was being treated—and, if I am honest, how I was allowing myself to be treated. I was paralyzed, waiting in the same way I waited for my dad to come through the door in the weeks and months after his death.
In this cycle, my inner child would spend days mourning the relationship with my dad all over again … and again … and again … and again. The trauma of losing him was deep. My heart had to break open so that my unconscious mind could understand what was actually happening. I chose and entertained this person because he mirrored my childhood patterns. His avoidance and eventual abandonment reminded me of the days and months leading up to my father’s death, and while painful, it was familiar. I repeated the pattern over and over again, hoping for a different outcome that would never come.
These revelations forced me to take a deeper look at how I got here. My adult relationships didn’t map onto my childhood experiences exactly, but there were commonalities that revealed greater truths about myself. To start with, I am the child of an affair. My father was still married to my sister’s mother when he met my mother. One might expect that he wasn’t around much, but it was quite the contrary. He was very present—we had a very close relationship. Yet lurking in the background was the knowledge that I was a secret. I also often worried I was unwanted by my mother. She was nineteen years old when she gave birth to me, and my arrival created deep rifts between her and her father. My father was two years younger than my grandfather and twenty years older than my mother.
Still, my father was a consistent emotional presence and financial provider to me and my mother even though he was still with his wife. But my mother would grow to resent his relationship with me.
He was there for me in ways her own father wasn’t. My grandfather was intermittently absent from my mother’s life due to his job as a cruise ship captain. So you can imagine what it feels like to watch your child get everything you desperately wanted from your own father. Her resentment of me ran deep, and I could feel it. My father acted as a buffer and my savior from her mood swings and tantrums, especially when they weren’t getting along. But when he died, everything changed, and I was alone.
His death created deep abandonment and father wounds that I have fought long and hard to heal. Yet my conscious self was in denial of this. After all, he died unexpectedly and didn’t leave me intentionally, right? However, his death meant I had to face the relationship with my mother head-on.
I lived with my father and aunts for a few years before his death because my mother was away at college. I would see her in the summer and on holidays, but otherwise I spent all my time with my dad. When he became ill, I moved to be with my mother, whom I hadn’t lived with for a few years.
Suddenly, I was subject to her mood swings. I had to learn to fawn and people-please in order to sidestep her unpredictable wrath. It didn’t matter if I was getting straight A’s and doing all that a child is supposed to do in order to be “good” (hello, perfectionism). If her mood soured, anyone in the vicinity risked being a target. I’d go on to suffer verbal, physical, and emotional abuse as she too struggled with the loss of my father and the responsibility of having to parent me full-time. I was marinating in survival mode and struggling to manage complex traumas at just eleven years old. This is where my anxious attachment patterns became firmly established.
My story is far from unique. Many children experience these challenges growing up in one form or another; we even expect them to be resilient, because we were forced to be. Hello, intergenerational trauma! Older generations normalize their own trauma as a rite of passage, and describe it as something that makes you stronger. So, the children suffering in these situations experience their first taste of invalidation, which they then go on to normalize in their adult relationships.
Here we are, years later, running back to an emotionally unavailable ex who says our needs aren’t valid and refuses to meet them. Their good looks aren’t what keep you there. What keeps you there is a complex process where you’re fighting a battle within yourself on multiple fronts: emotional, biological, and spiritual.
Let’s take a deep breath together as we embark on this next chapter. You know, when I realized I had encoded my father’s death as abandonment, it was like flipping on a light switch in a dark room. Going back into my history and connecting the dots with my current relationships was a roller coaster of emotions, but a necessary one. Sometimes our hearts carry unresolved trauma we’re not even fully aware of, but it still shows up in how we relate to others and ourselves. In the following chapter, and across the entirety of Part 2, we’ll be exploring this, starting with concepts like attachment, ego defenses, and how our past traumas might manifest in ways we don’t immediately recognize, like my own tendencies to lean into denial and become a people-pleaser.
We covered a lot of ground in Part 1 and shed light on the difficult truths about toxic relationships. In the previous section, we started with how being in hermit mode and the heart sabbatical can help us begin to unpack our Pandora’s box. But what happens once you’ve opened the box? Where does that leave us now? Well, you’ve done the first crucial part: you’ve recognized and healed from your past toxic relationship. It’s like closing one chapter of a book. And as you turn the page, we’re about to begin another equally, if not more, important chapter: the deep work.
Over the next few months, I’ll be your guide as we trace back to the very roots of where these patterns originated. Think of it as a journey of self-discovery. It’s not about pointing fingers or placing blame, but rather about understanding how we’ve been molded by our experiences. We’re going to look back and understand why we react the way we do in relationships, whether they’re platonic, professional, familial, or romantic.
This won’t be a quick-fix process, and it’s essential to manage our expectations. Real growth and understanding take time. With patience, introspection, and a genuine commitment to change, we can reshape our relational patterns and move toward a life filled with healthier and more fulfilling connections. So, as we step into this new chapter, I want you to remember one thing: you’re not alone in this. Together, we’ll unpack the complexities of our past to build a brighter, more authentic future. Join me as we navigate these intricate paths, understanding and healing as we go.
