How Naming Your Past Helps You Stop Repeating It

We trace how childhood patterns shape adult relationships and why familiarity can feel safer than health. We break down trauma bonding and triangulation, then share practical steps to set boundaries, widen our circle, and choose relationships that feel calm, clear, and steady.

• five adjectives that define childhood patterns 
• how the nervous system confuses familiar with safe 
• what a trauma bond looks and feels like 
• do’s and don’ts to break the cycle 
• naming love bombing and refusing the hook 
• why triangulation is manipulation, not romance 
• music as mirror for doubt and intuition 
• a simple grounding practice to choose yourself 
• reframing the story from hurt to growth

Connect with me on Instagram or Facebook at Lyce the Blogca. Please share your story, ask a question, send me a message, tell me what you want to hear next

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Hey there, welcome back to Light. Thank you for joining me. This episode is an important one because it touches the parts of us we don't always talk about. Trauma bonding, childhood patterns, the relationships we choose because they feel familiar, not because they feel safe. And the moment in healing where we stop living in the story what broke us and start living in the story of what rebuilds us. Recently, actually today, my therapist asked me to name five adjectives that describe my childhood. Five simple words.

unknown 0:42

Huh.

Five Adjectives That Shaped Childhood

Recognizing Familiarity As False Safety

What Trauma Bonding Really Is

Do’s And Don’ts To Break The Bond

Triangulation Exposed

Music As Mirror And Meaning

SPEAKER_00 0:43

It took me about five minutes to come up with those five simple words. But once I did, each one carried years of unspoken truth. I said addictive, solitary, disordered, hidden, unpredictable. And as soon as I said them, I realized something. I have spent most of my life attracting people who carry those exact traits. Bosses, partners, friends. Not because I wanted them, but because my nervous system recognized them. Familiarity felt like safety, even when familiarity was the very last thing I needed. Healing is when you see the pattern for the first time and think, oh, this is why. Today we're gonna talk about trauma bonding, the cycles that create it, the emotional glue that keeps us stuck, and the ways we can finally break free. We're also going to shine a light on one of the most ridiculous tactics in toxic relationships. Another conversation with my therapist today: triangulation. If we are going to heal from chaos, we might as well call out the circus axe along the way. So let's get into it, shall we? The five adjectives of my childhood. I want to give you a brief explanation of each of the adjectives I provided to my therapist. And I want to remind you, I am not a social worker nor a psychologist. I'm just taking what I get from my experience and the advice I get from my therapist in order to cope to move forward and possibly to spread a little ray of sunshine where you can think about how you can get out of your trauma bond or your separation unscathed, or minorly unscathed. I think every separation has its ups and downs. So my first word was addictive. And this means or behaviors or patterns around me that felt consuming or controlling. And yes, I had alcoholic parents and a drug-addicted brother. So I just never knew what was gonna happen or how what I was gonna walk into as a young child. Solitary. And he said, Okay. Then he finally calmed down and fell asleep. I don't think I ever had that in my life. It was just I had to deal with it. I wasn't allowed to talk to teachers or anything like that, or I'd get in trouble, so I was in much solitude and all of the chaos in my life. Which comes the next word, which is disordered. Things felt messy, chaotic, or inconsistent. I just never knew my brother was gonna come home and cause chaos again. I never knew if I was gonna come home and see a bottle of Seagrum's gin on the counter, and it was gonna be a bad night. Even in my teenage years, whoever was dropping me off and the lights were on outside. I'd say keep driving. Hidden. I was never allowed to discuss what was happening inside the home. It always had to be a perfect picture. My feelings, my problems, or truths weren't openly discussed, and nor was I allowed to discuss them. And my life was very unpredictable. I couldn't reliably anticipate reactions, moods, or outcomes in any situation. It was very hard to have these conversations with people that were just so unreliable. Because one minute could be really kind and nice, and the next minute could be outright ferocious. I'm just wondering, as listeners, how do these adjectives show up in your adult relationships, or do you have other adjectives that you want to share with me? And we can friend one another and maybe have some conversations on how we can help one another ride the wave because therapy is very expensive, and sometimes we've got to lean on one another to get through the hardships of our childhood trauma so our inner child can blast out and be the best self possible. So with these adjectives, I asked my therapist, is there any correlation to this, and why I unconsciously become a magnet for bosses, partners, and friends who mirror those same patterns? It's not that I want them. It's just what my nervous system recognizes as normal, she explained. And why this happens? Familiar feels safe. Even when it isn't. Your nervous system doesn't choose what's good, it chooses what it knows. You develop survival skills early. You learned how to read unpredictable emotions, soothe chaos, adapt quickly, and hold space for other people's hidden issues. People with those traits, such as myself, gravitate to someone who can stabilize them. And you've been that stabilizer since childhood. I remember when my brother was out in the town, my mom would say, Let's go to Tim Hortons. We'd go to Tim Hortons. And then we get home and she goes, Why don't you lay down beside me? And I think it was more for her than for myself. I attract what your inner child what my inner child thinks I can fix. Not because I'm broken, but because I'm capable. And I also tolerate more than the average person. Not because I lack boundaries, but because disorder and unpredictability doesn't shock me. They're actually familiar. And what does this mean for healing? So I did ask her, am I suffering from CPTSD? And it actually means nothing is wrong with me. It means I'm finally seeing the pattern clearly. And now I get to rewrite who gets to gets access to me. Because the adult me doesn't need to adapt to chaos anymore. So now I'm going to take the deep dive into something that I'm familiar with, which is called trauma bonding. And trauma bonding is not love. It is not chemistry, it is not passion. It is the emotional trap that forms when someone gives you a mix of attention, fear, hope, and confusion. It is the push and pull that keeps you hanging on. It is the high after the low that feels like relief. It is the way they make you feel chosen one moment and invisible the next. When you grow up in unpredictability, inconsistency becomes your normal. Your brain learns to chase crumbs and call it a connection. Oh, he's so in love with me. You cling to the moments they act right, even if those moments last ten minutes. You ignore the red flags because you were raised inside them. You tell yourself that if you try harder, love harder, fix things harder, the relationship will become what you hope for. But trauma bonds aren't built on love. They're built on survival. Trauma bonding. Do's and don'ts. Here's a guide I wish more people had. Do recognize the pattern. Ask yourself if the connection feels healthy or just familiar. Don't romanticize inconsistency. The highs and lows are not passion. They are instability. Do pause before you react. Trauma bonds trigger the child in you, and oh my god, I can so relate to that. Take a few days. Let the adult you answer instead. Don't chase clarity from someone who benefits from your confusion. If they thrive in chaos, you will never get peace. Try your best to walk away and love yourself more. Do build a life outside the relationship. Your independence weakens the bond. It is so important. This last relationship I had, it was just him and I. And to break that bond is very hard. Don't isolate. Toxic people want your circle small. Healthy people want your circle full. And do name the behavior. Say the words, call it what it is. Don't excuse behavior you would never tolerate from yourself. Do create and hold boundaries like your emotional life depends on it, because it does. And don't fall for the love bombing every time you pull away. Love bombing is bait, not change. Another thing my therapist and I dove into was triangulation and what a circle circus active is. So I'm gonna talk about one of the most embarrassing tactics toxic people use, which is triangulation. Triangulation is when someone drags a third person into your dynamic to create jealousy or insecurity. And honestly, it's laughable. Instead of communicating like an adult, they wave another person around like a cheap stage prop, hoping you will panic and try harder. They toss in an axe, a stranger, a random admirer they spoke to for three minutes, or someone who barely knows their name. Anything to make themselves look like the irresistible prize in their own imaginary drama. Meanwhile, you're sitting there thinking, is this your strategy? This the big move? This is what you're using to feel important. Triangulation does not make them powerful, it exposes how emotionally stunted they are. Someone who needs a fake love triangle to feel relevant is not a prize. They are simply a red flag with a heartbeat. And if you're stuck in a triangulation situation and you walk away, there is only one winner, and that is you. As long as you never, ever go back. I'd love to dive into that more, but I feel that my last nine episodes has been a real focus on my experiences and not my healing, and it makes me sound like I haven't healed, and I really have. I do a lot of listening to music, and I've actually was a big country music listener until recently, and I started getting into different genres, reading about different songs that helped me during this time or that time, and one song that resonated with me was the song by Bruce Springsteen, Brilliant Disguise. And it would not be complete if I didn't include it in this episode because it speaks to these patterns. This this song is a mirror. It captures the exhaustion of loving someone who keeps switching versions of themselves. The line that always gets me is Is that you, baby, or is it just a brilliant disguise? That is trauma bonding. You never know which version of them you're gonna get. You fall in love with the mask, you cling to the moments they play the part, and then there's the line, God have mercy on the man who doubts what he's sure of. Trauma teaches you to doubt your instincts. Healing teaches you to trust them again. This song reminds us that doubt is not weakness, it is wisdom actually waking up. Give it a listen. Because I don't think I'm allowed to play these licensed songs on here. I have to look into that. So the listener question of the week How do I know if I'm trauma-bonded or just trying to make a relationship work? Good question, because I've asked myself that several times. And here's the truth: a healthy relationship feels calm. And I can't wait to find one like that. Even in the hard moments. A trauma bond feels like anxiety, waiting, guessing, earning love. If you feel relief when they are nice and fear when they pull away, that is not love, that is conditioning. If your days feel like rewards instead of a baseline, it's a trauma bond. Healthy love feels safe. Trauma bonds feel familiar. Write your five adjectives of what your childhood felt like. I highly recommend it. Because familiar is not always healthy. Before we close, I want to share something I saw that landed right in my chest. A quote by Ash Taylor. And I decided to stop thinking on ways in which I'd been hurt and started thinking of ways in which I'd learned, grown, evolved, and healed instead. That quote hit me because for years I have told my story. And while my story is very real, very heartbreaking, it actually shaped me. But lately something in me has shifted. I don't want to sit in the pain anymore. I don't want to retell the same chapters every time I speak. I want to reference them when needed, but I don't want to keep living in them. I want to tell the story of who I am becoming, not the story of who hurt me. There is strength in naming the wound, but there is even more strength in choosing what comes after. Healing does not erase the past. It honors it by growing beyond it. And I am so ready to grow. So before we go, take a moment. Hand on your chest. A slow breathe in. Let it out. Ask yourself, what am I feeling right now? What does my body need? Is this emotion from today or from long ago? This pause is where healing begins. This is where you break the pattern. This is where you choose yourself. And oh as always, thank you for spending time with me. This episode I feel was real and it was honest, and I hope it reminded you that you're not broken. You're becoming conscious. If this spoke to you, connect to me. Connect with me on Instagram or Facebook at Lyce the Blogca. Please share your story, ask a question, send me a message, tell me what you want to hear next. Because I've got a boatload of stories. And if you have a song that helped you heal or crack something open in you, send it my way. I love weaving music into these conversations. Take care of your heart. Trust your instincts. And remember that failure is not the same as healthy. You deserve peace. You deserve clarity. You deserve love. And that that doesn't hurt. It's just Trinop Stewart from Lice the Blog. Until next time,