Hey you,
This week, we’re pulling at the thread no one really likes to admit: sometimes, the way we love looks suspiciously like the way we were parented. Not because we want it to, but because our nervous system is still running the original code.
Romantic relationships are the closest substitute we get for those early bonds. They’re where the old wounds resurface, the old fears wake up, and the old comfort we craved comes rushing back.
So no, you’re not “crazy” for panicking when a text goes unanswered. Your brain is just convinced you’re back in the crib.
Let’s get into it.
– Team Necterine
THE MIRROR
When your partner feels suspiciously parental
From infancy, our survival depended on a caregiver. That bond wrote the script: this is what love feels like, this is how comfort works, this is how I get attention. As adults, that attachment system doesn’t vanish, it just shifts focus to partners.
Your nervous system doesn’t forget where it once sought comfort.
Romance is often the closest thing your body has to a second chance at caregiving.
This is why fights feel catastrophic.
Why emotional distance feels like abandonment.
Why inconsistency sends you spiraling.
Relationships become the theater where childhood scripts play out — not because you wanted it that way, but because your body knows no other.
THE LOOP
Replaying what you never got to finish
We say “you’re dating your dad” as a joke. But it’s also true. The psychology term is repetition compulsion — repeating familiar relational dynamics because your unconscious believes you still can resolve them.
Lately, there’s been a whole wave of content unpacking that in real time.
Esther Perel’s podcast Where Should We Begin is basically a masterclass in this — couples talking through conflicts that almost always trace back to childhood scripts. On TikTok, therapist the.truth.doctor calls it “emotional déjà vu”: that moment when you realize the person you’re dating feels uncomfortably like someone who once raised you.
It’s not a coincidence. It’s your body’s oldest code still running in the background.
The jokes land because the pain is real. You don’t choose patterns — you inherit them. Even when they hurt.
THE TOOL
The Pattern Interrup
This week’s tool is a mini self-audit to help you catch your pattern before it catches you.
Take 3 minutes to reflect on each prompt:
When I feel anxious in love, I usually assume _______.
When someone pulls away, I tend to _______.
What does safety look like to me — and is that actually safety, or just familiarity?
What would it look like to give myself the thing I keep seeking from others?
Write down one new boundary or practice you can try this week that honors today’s you, not the child version who had to cope.
Which pattern do you catch yourself repeating most?
THE SHIFT
How to stop living in your old story
Healing isn’t erasing. It’s choosing differently.
Notice the echo. When you’re triggered, ask: What does this remind me of?
Pause before you act. Let the part of you that says “run” start talking slower than the part that says “react.”
Self-parent first. Validate yourself, set your own boundaries, speak your truths.
Stay steady in small consistency. You don’t need fireworks. You need someone who argues less and checks in more.
Name your wounds. Share: “This taps into old fear of abandonment.” It’s not blame. It’s translation.
Each time you choose the new action, your nervous system learns a new story.
THE TAKEAWAY
Because awareness is hot, but self-trust is hotter.
You’re not broken for craving what once hurt you. You’re human for wanting to finish the story. But love isn’t about reenacting the wound — it’s about recognizing it, holding it up to the light, and deciding that maybe this time, you’ll do it differently.
You don’t have to fix everything today. You just have to notice what’s yours and what was handed to you. That’s how the story starts to shift — quietly, steadily, one choice at a time.
Healing doesn’t make you less romantic. It just makes you less available to chaos.
And if this all feels like a lot — that’s okay.
You’ve got this. And we’ve got you.
xoxo,
Team Necterine
Dating sucks, but it doesn’t have to.
Necterine is a next-generation connection app to help you cultivate relationships.
Our mission is to redefine connection by celebrating every interaction. We provide tools and experiences that empower our users to discover themselves through the spectrum of relationships, from fleeting encounters to lifelong partnerships.
