If you struggle to commit in relationships…
If you find yourself constantly spotting flaws in your partners…
Here’s something you may not want to hear—but need to:
It’s not about them.
It’s about the wounds you haven’t healed.
More specifically, it’s often rooted in your earliest relationship—
The one you had with your mother.
My Own Pattern of Sabotage
I’ve had the privilege of dating incredible women.
Strong, beautiful, kind-hearted.
And yet…
After the honeymoon phase ended, I’d begin picking the relationship apart.
Hyper-focused on flaws.
Finding reasons it “wasn’t right.”
Then back to dating. Back to the search.
On the surface, I told myself I was just waiting for the right fit.
But beneath that?
I was chasing qualities that mirrored my unhealed wounds.
We think we’re looking for love.
But often, we’re searching for healing.
And until we face what’s unresolved with our parents—especially our mothers—we’ll project those wounds onto our partners again and again.
The Wake-Up Call
After cycling through years of relationships, I had a humbling realization.
Five of my ex-girlfriends—all amazing women—had gone on to get married, have kids, and build happy lives.
And the only common denominator in those breakups… was me.
That hit hard.
So I asked the question:
“What’s broken in the way I show up in love?”
I didn’t have the answer on my own.
So I got help.
“When Did You Decide Love Wasn’t Safe?”
That’s the question my therapist asked me.
And it cracked something open.
I started remembering moments from my childhood:
Fighting.
Chaos.
Emotional distance.
I had internalized that love—especially romantic love—wasn’t safe.
But here’s where it got even deeper:
My therapist encouraged me to explore my mother’s childhood, not just my own.
Not as her child, but as a curious human.
What I discovered changed everything.
Understanding My Mother Changed Me
At just five years old, my mother was separated from her own mom.
She never saw her again.
She was sent to live with a stranger who already had four kids, while being one of eight siblings herself.
Love, to her, equaled abandonment.
Of course she built walls. Of course she kept love at arm’s length.
When I saw her as a scared little girl—not just “Mom”—my heart cracked open.
I felt compassion.
Empathy.
Love.
That shift began a new chapter in our relationship.
The Hoffman Process: Where the Healing Began
One of the most powerful tools that helped me break these patterns was the Hoffman Process—a one-week immersive experience that dives deep into the emotional imprints of childhood.
They call it Negative Love Syndrome:
The unconscious ways we copy or rebel against our parents in how we love—and are loved.
I saw clearly:
- The traits I judged in others? Often the parts of me I hadn’t accepted.
- The things that triggered me? Mirrors of my unhealed self.
I asked myself:
What patterns have I inherited from my mom or dad that I haven’t owned or forgiven?
The answers were uncomfortable. But they were freeing.
Forgiveness as Liberation
At the Hoffman retreat, I held a symbolic funeral for my parents.
I wrote my mother a letter—of love, of gratitude, of forgiveness.
And when I finally read it to her in real life, something beautiful happened.
Her walls melted.
She softened.
And for the first time in decades, I saw her as someone who could both give and receive love.
A New Relationship With My Mom
Most of my life, hugging my mom was awkward.
She’d stiffen up—uncomfortable with affection she’d rarely received herself.
Now, when I hug her, this tiny 4’11” woman wraps her arms around me like never before.
She’s 80.
And for the first time… I feel truly connected to her.
We rebuilt what was broken.
We found joy.
We even went on a cruise to Hawaii for her 80th birthday.
And I’m proud to say:
I finally have the relationship with my mom that I always dreamed of.
If You Still Have Time—Use It
If your relationship with your mother or father is strained, and they’re still alive, I urge you:
Don’t wait. Heal it.
Ask the hard questions.
Choose to understand.
Learn about their past, their pain, their fears.
Not to excuse their mistakes, but to release yourself from carrying the weight of them.
Why This Matters in Love
Healing my relationship with my mom changed how I show up in romantic relationships.
Now, I don’t need to perform, compensate, or protect myself with judgment.
I can invite my partner into my story.
Into my healing.
Into my wholeness.
That’s what doing the work creates:
Real intimacy. Deeper love. Authentic connection.
Break the Cycle. Be the Bridge.
We all carry trauma.
Stories.
Patterns inherited from generations before us.
But we also have the power to stop them.
It ends with us.
We are the generation that can turn pain into purpose.
Wounds into wisdom.
And fractured relationships into foundations of love.
All it takes is the willingness to go within, ask the hard questions, and choose healing over blame.
If this moved something in you, leave a comment.
Share your story.
And if you’re ready to begin your own healing journey—
You don’t have to do it alone.
This is the work.
And it’s worth every step.
