The Ways We Self-Sabotage Love

‍It is unlikely that anyone sets out in their day choosing to damage the relationships they most value. Yet, all too many of us engage in behaviors that steadily erode the very connections we long for.‍

When Kim expresses to Teddy that she dislikes having to remind him of the chores she expects him to take on (Jan 4 Post), the subtext is that she assumes Teddy’s intent. At the same time, she has mentally set an expectation that she hasn’t fully explained.‍

Her assumption of intent and expectation of mind-reading were born from the stories and experiences that developed within her over the years.

Kim loves Teddy deeply, but the way she has learned to express her needs and protect her ego is slowly chipping away at that love.

Likewise for Teddy, although he believes that Kim is absolutely his person, his mindset has developed in such a way that he believes that whatever he does will never be good enough, and that he must constantly earn love.

It is the way the two of them see themselves—not each other—that is slowly breaking their connection.

Teddy and Kim have zero desire to sabotage the relationship. They want to protect themselves. The problem is not the need to protect. It is that the information used to set the boundaries of that protection is outdated. For most of us, that information comes from the catalog of attachment styles, fear responses, and internal stories we’ve memorialized.

The good news is that these experiences do not make us bad or broken people. It does not mean that we must avoid relationships until we are “better.” The great news is that, just as we developed our current fear and vulnerability responses, we can absolutely learn healthier ways to grow our relationships into mutually rewarding ones.‍‍‍

The Stories We Believe‍

As children, we develop a variety of unconscious beliefs formed from the feedback loops we get locked into with our earliest emotional influences. Our parents, primarily, but it includes all our key developmental relationships.

These beliefs become the core stories we tell ourselves—about ourselves:

• I am lovable

• I am difficult

• People stay

• People leave

• I have to earn affection

• Love isn't safe‍

Years later...almost imperceptibly, they stop feeling like beliefs. They become self-fulfilling realities. My beliefs shaped my behavior from adolescence into adulthood. It wasn’t difficult to gather the evidence that confirmed my internal narrative, the stories I already believed about myself.

If you secretly believe that people will eventually abandon you, your brain will see proof in every delayed text. In the distracted conversations. In the forgotten plans. Eventually, you will try to soothe yourself by concluding, "I knew this would happen."

Not because it was inevitable—because you used unrelated events as the evidence.

It is an insidious trap that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not in a mystical sense like we can manifest an outcome by simply believing in it. Rather, it is a belief that impacts behavior. For me, my behavior became such that instead of being open—I became guarded. Instead of asking—I would assume. Instead of trusting—I would test. Instead of communicating—I would withdraw.

What I didn’t realize was that my partners weren’t reacting to my beliefs; they were reacting to what my beliefs led me to do.

Emotionally, I validated my beliefs with an internal dialogue of “See!” “I knew it!” “People suck and I never get what I want!”

Going back to our struggling couple: Let's imagine Teddy has quietly developed the belief: "When people get close to me, they eventually lose interest."

At some point, Kim has a busy week at work. She gets distracted and forgets to text one evening.

To Kim: Nothing unusual happened.

To Teddy: His old story has been activated.

Rather than saying "I'm feeling a little insecure, he becomes distant, uses short responses, even becomes less affectionate.

Kim notices. She thinks: "Something's wrong." She asks, but Teddy simply says, “It’s nothing.”

Kim feels shut out so she backs away emotionally. Now Teddy thinks, "I knew she'd pull away." Except...Kim didn't pull away first. Teddy’s fear changed his behavior. His behavior consequently changed hers, and now her response is confirming his fear.

Neither of them intended harm, but instead of engaging in a healthy communication pattern, a cycle of mistrust is perpetuated.

Our brains evolved to detect danger.

Unfortunately...

they're much better at preventing pain than recognizing safety.

In that environment, every incident becomes evidence, and the things that contradict get muted. Our brains aren’t lying to us; they’re filtering.

My caution is—and please hear me on this—do not begin seeing every fear as imagined, and every painful outcome as self-created. Some relationships truly are unsafe. The challenge is learning to distinguish between the warning signs of the present and the echoes of the past.

I still struggle with asking myself better questions. Like, instead of “Why do I keep creating these outcomes?” I’m moving toward “What belief have I been holding on to?”

In that, I am trying to understand what adaptive strategies I developed as a child that I continue to apply as an adult.

It is in this space where emotional growth moves us from defensiveness, self-blame, and fear to a healthier relationship with ourselves, which I see as the foundation of a healthier relationship with others.

Reflecting on My Own Quiet Self-Sabotage

I don’t consider myself a relationship expert, and you shouldn’t see me that way either. What you can trust is that I am just a person who has learned some things about myself through the many relationships I have built or burned down, been successful with or failed at miserably.

This is somewhat therapeutic for me, but I also feel called to share with you so that you might find a path toward a more authentic version of yourself.

Over the years, I quietly developed several ways to self-sabotage in my relationships. My guess is that most of the people that do have more than one. The three most prevalent for me are expecting mind reading, avoiding difficult conversations, and chronic defensiveness.

In my reflective periods, I can clearly see how ridiculous it is to expect someone to not only know how I am thinking at any given moment, but also to know how I am feeling about what I’m thinking. It’s so absurd that, when I stop beating myself up about that behavior, I almost have to laugh.

Unfortunately, in the moment, it happens unconsciously. I’m not aware of what I’m doing. I just know that when the person who claims to love me doesn’t read my mind, I feel abandoned.

That behavior is connected to my desire to avoid difficult conversations. You know the ones where you have to stand up for yourself. When you have to tell them how they made you feel. When you should say no. I avoid them because I’m afraid I’ll disappoint them. That they will stop liking me. That they’ll leave.

The defensiveness is connected to my feelings of lack and inadequacy.

But that’s me. Raise your eyebrow if you recall doing the following...more than once:

• refused reassurance

• tested loyalty

• withheld affection

• assumed intent

• kept score

• yielded to perfectionism

• refused repair after conflict

If so, you may be doing what I was doing, which is to assign our own unresolved fears to our partners. It is easier to engage in projection than to confront ourselves. So to protect our egos, we sometimes create obstacles before an actual failure occurs.

What that looks like is keeping emotional distance, not communicating, avoiding vulnerability, or withholding affection.

Why do that in a relationship we care deeply about

Because…

If the relationship fails, I can tell myself I am safe because I protected my fears. I kept that to myself. I withheld my vulnerability.

Because…

Failure feels safer than full investment followed by rejection.

Awareness of Cognitive Dissonance

This discussion is not asking to you deny your fears, emotions, and experiences. It simply asks that you pause just long enough to ask a couple of questions.

"What part of me was this behavior trying to protect?"

"Does this behavior move me closer to the person I want to become?"

Not every conflict will be healed this way, but the practice may help reveal whether you're responding to the present or protecting yourself from the past.

This is key because cognitive dissonance is defined as occurring when beliefs and behaviors don't match. I’m suggesting that the place to begin resolving that difference is asking why your values and your habits don't match.

Beliefs may be harder to unpack psychologically, but values tend to be more personal. For example, you may say that one of your values is that you want a relationship built on trust. Yet you have a habit of:

• checking your person’s phone

• assuming negative motives

• constantly testing their loyalty

• avoiding vulnerability with them

The awareness of your behaviors will eventually allow you to notice the contradictions. The practice makes it less likely that you will retreat into defensiveness and lean into curiosity.

Instead of asking “Why am I like this?” you rightfully ask "If trust is truly one of my values, why isn't it showing up in my behavior?"

This is so powerful because ultimately your cognitive dissonance will begin to be less about living in discomfort and more about living with direction. And the direction reveals whether you are moving away from—or toward—the person you hope to become.

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