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Why do we keep repeating patterns, even when we know they're not helping?

Writer: Jenna@northparkhypnotherapy
Jenna@northparkhypnotherapy
6 hours ago
5 min read
Sunlit winding path through a peaceful English countryside meadow beneath trees

Have you ever noticed yourself doing something familiar and thought, ‘Why am I doing this again?’ Perhaps you agree to something you don’t really want to do, avoid a conversation that matters, or find yourself responding to someone in a way you had promised yourself you wouldn’t.


Sometimes we can recognise a pattern quite clearly. We might even understand, intellectually, where it comes from. And yet, when the moment arrives, we find ourselves doing the same thing again.


That can be frustrating. It can also leave us feeling that we ought to be able to change simply because we’ve noticed what’s happening. But understanding a pattern and feeling able to respond differently are not always the same thing.


Patterns often have a history


The ways we relate to ourselves and other people don’t develop in isolation. Our early experiences, relationships, environments and later experiences can all influence what we come to expect, what feels safe, and how we learn to manage difficult feelings.


For someone who grew up needing to keep the peace, saying yes might once have helped avoid conflict. For someone who has experienced criticism, holding back or trying to get everything right may have felt protective. These responses can make sense in the circumstances in which they developed, even if they now create difficulties.


Of course, not every habit has a hidden childhood explanation. Sometimes we repeat things because they are familiar, because we are exhausted, because our current circumstances make change difficult, or because a response brings relief in the short term. Often, several influences are involved.


Perhaps it's time for an update


I sometimes think about our patterns of behaviour in a similar way to the software on our phones.


When we first get a phone, it works perfectly well for what we need it to do. But over time, things change. We use it differently, our needs develop, and eventually some of the old software doesn't work quite as well as it once did. So we update it.


I think we can be a little like that too.


The ways we think, behave and respond to life often develop for good reasons. At some point, they may have helped us cope, feel safe, manage relationships or get through difficult experiences.


But we're not the same people we were ten years ago, or even five years ago.


Our circumstances change. Our relationships change. Our priorities shift, and what we want from life may look quite different.


And sometimes the very things that once helped us begin to get in the way of what we want now.


Perhaps avoiding conflict helped us feel safe in the past, but now makes it difficult to express what we need. Or perhaps always putting other people first once helped us feel accepted, but now leaves us feeling exhausted or resentful.


It doesn't mean those old ways of responding were wrong. They may have made perfect sense at the time.


But perhaps they need reviewing.


And just like updating our phones, that doesn't mean throwing everything away and starting again. It means keeping what still works, recognising what no longer helps, and gradually trying something different.


Of course, we're rather more complicated than phones. We can't simply press a button and install a new way of thinking or behaving.


And that's where things can become interesting, because even when we know something needs to change, another part of us may feel quite reluctant to do it.


Why understanding isn't always enough


Imagine knowing that you’re allowed to disappoint someone, but feeling a rush of anxiety whenever you try to say no. The thought may be clear enough: ‘I don’t have to agree.’ The emotional experience may tell a different story.


This is one reason advice such as ‘just set boundaries’ can feel inadequate. It describes an action without necessarily acknowledging what that action means to the person trying to take it.


Our brains have evolved to help us survive, and some of our quickest responses come from systems designed to detect and respond to potential danger.


When we feel threatened or overwhelmed, our emotional response can take over. What we're feeling may not reflect the facts of the situation, but that doesn't make the feeling any less real to us.


The further we move into a stress response, the harder it can become to think clearly, consider different perspectives or solve problems. Instead, we may fall back on familiar, automatic ways of responding.


From a survival point of view, that makes sense. If we were facing immediate danger, stopping to carefully weigh up every possibility wouldn't necessarily help us. We would need to act.


The difficulty is that our brains don't always distinguish between an immediate physical threat and something that feels emotionally threatening. So we can find ourselves reacting as though we're in danger, even when another part of us knows the situation is different.


A familiar response may offer a sense of certainty or protection, even while it comes at a cost. Trying something different can involve uncertainty, discomfort, grief, guilt or fear. Change may therefore require more than a new strategy; it may involve understanding and working with those feelings.


Trying something different often means stepping outside our comfort zone. Even a change we genuinely want can bring anxiety, simply because we don't yet know how it will feel or what will happen. That unfamiliar feeling doesn't necessarily mean the choice is wrong. Sometimes it just means we're doing something new.


With time, practice and experiences that feel manageable, a different response can become less daunting. What once felt unfamiliar may gradually become part of what feels comfortable. Growth isn't always about making a dramatic leap; sometimes it's about allowing ourselves to become familiar with another way of being.


What might be happening underneath?


It can be useful to become curious about the moments when a pattern appears. What was happening just before it? What did you feel in your body? What were you expecting from the other person? What seemed at risk if you responded differently?


The answers won’t always arrive immediately, and there may not be one neat explanation. But asking these questions can begin to shift the focus away from ‘What’s wrong with me?’ towards ‘What might this response be doing for me, and is it still helping?’


Exploring patterns in psychotherapy


In psychotherapy, we can take time to look at recurring experiences without rushing to judge or fix them. That might involve exploring relationships and past experiences, noticing what happens in the present, and considering the meanings we attach to particular situations.


Therapy can also be a place to question assumptions that have become so familiar they barely feel like assumptions at all. Sometimes that exploration is reassuring; sometimes it is gently challenging. Both can matter.


Recognising a pattern does not oblige you to change it overnight. It may be more useful to understand how it developed, what it has helped you manage, and what other possibilities might gradually become available.


If you’d like to explore recurring patterns, relationships or emotional difficulties, North Park Therapy offers psychotherapy and counselling in Castle Cary and Somerton, Somerset, and online. You’re welcome to get in touch to ask about working together.

 
 
 

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