“When a flower fails to bloom, you adjust the surroundings where it flourishes, not the flower itself.” ~Alexander Den Heijer
He was astute, well-versed, and compassionate. A devoted father, cautious about introducing his children to partners prematurely. A man with a guiding philosophy in life, who honored his promises, who expressed truth with an unwavering honesty—and it was genuine. He embraced constructive conflict; he could engage in tough discussions without retreating. Additionally, he was tall, dark, and attractive.
He ticked almost every box on my checklist. And I mean that quite literally. I had a checklist.
Not the naive type you create at twenty-two, desiring someone who loves dogs and doesn’t text with one-word replies. This one stemmed from years of therapy, coaching, and introspection—the tough, unglamorous task of tracing my patterns back to their origins, along with the somatic process of feeling and healing for months thereafter.
I had a tendency to be drawn to a very particular type of confidence: fierce, resolute, unyielding—the type we are taught as women to desire, to interpret as leadership. I labeled it self-possessed. More often than not, what I was genuinely responding to was ego—someone’s assuredness about themselves, which I confused for authenticity. Those aren’t synonymous, but they can appear identical from a distance.
And once I got close enough to distinguish the difference, I recognized my own role in it too: I’d project that same guarded confidence back to him, keep my cards close, and observe to see if he’d validate himself first. Still engaging in the games I played at twenty-two. Just calling it discernment now rather than dating.
The quest when I discovered him was distinct.
This checklist arose from insight. From self-awareness. From finally grasping what I needed compared to what my nervous system had been conditioned to pursue.
And there he was. Many of my criteria met. Even the ones I had ceased believing were achievable.
Through all my self-improvement work, I had come to believe that healing my attachment wounds and altering my patterns—if I did the work and ‘adjusted the environment’—I’d attract the right partner.
Adjust the environment, not the flower. And I did adjust the environment.
I invested years in realizing that I wasn’t attracted to people—I was attracted to emotions. That the excitement I used to misinterpret as love was often merely my nervous system recognizing something familiar. That familiarity isn’t synonymous with goodness. That a wound has its own longing, and trauma bonds feel exquisite until they ultimately unravel you.
I transformed what I was open to. I redefined what I considered home. I ceased idealizing individuals who couldn’t meet me and began posing tougher inquiries about why unavailability had ever felt substantial.
And then I encountered him.
A man in his strength. Someone who had examined his own life truthfully and taken action. Someone whose presence exuded stability instead of chaos, like growth rather than that familiar, enticing ache.
This wasn’t the wound speaking. This felt unique because it was unique. I had done enough work to recognize the distinction. So I allowed myself to fully engage.
I won’t delve into what went amiss because that’s not the essence of this, and it’s not solely my narrative to share. What I will express is this: he couldn’t meet me at my level. Not because he was a bad man—he wasn’t. Not because he hadn’t done his own inner work—he had. But because even when someone is genuinely good and meets most of the criteria on the list you created with your wholly healed self, sometimes they still can’t quite connect with you.
This didn’t feel like previous heartbreaks. I recognized my role in those instances. I could track the wound, identify the pattern, understand what my nervous system had been processing. And part of me continues doing that now—seeking explanations, exploring how I could have developed better, examining my lovely petals and trying to see where there is still dirt on them.
And it left me with a question that remains unanswered.
If I adjusted my environment—and I did—and I attracted someone who matched the new conditions—and I did—and it still didn’t flourish, then why didn’t this relationship succeed?
My mind kept seeking answers. Was there another layer of work I had overlooked? Had I missed something? Was this simply what relationships entail—individuals evolving at differing paces, sometimes out of reach of one another?
Ultimately, I had to reconcile with sitting amidst the remnants of something I couldn’t rationalize away with a pattern, a self-improvement strategy, or a well-articulated quote. Which meant accepting that I couldn’t dictate whether relationships would succeed by digging deeper within myself.
I excelled at the introspection. I referred to it as nurturing the environment. But I think, if I’m truthful, I was still trying to fix the flower all along.
All that effort—the therapy, the somatic healing, the discernment, the checklist—part of me was still striving to be good enough, healed enough, whole enough that the right thing would finally endure. That’s not the environment. That’s still the flower, just exerting more effort to bloom as expected.
And it wasn’t just my own flower I was trying to fix. I believe part of me was attempting to change his too—wishing that the conditions I established, the version of myself I had cultivated, would be adequate to nurture something in him that perhaps wasn’t meant to grow. I was blind to it while I was engaged in it. That’s typically how it unfolds.
I don’t have a clear understanding of which factor it was—environment, flower, weather, timing, none of it. Some circumstances don’t present a reason compelling enough to hold. This might simply be one of them.
I engaged in the inner work, and it still didn’t yield the desired outcome. I could easily continue analyzing where things went awry, but I’ve come to realize it’s time to cease. Not because I’ve unraveled it. But because I no longer wish to unravel it. I just want to exist.
About Emily Brown
Emily Brown is a transformational coach, writer, and humanities professor who supports women in gaining clarity through the moments that redefine their lives—relationships, career transitions, and everything in between. She’s the author of Love Notes: How to Tend to Your Broken Heart, Navigate Your Emotions, & Befriend Your Inner Child After a Bad Breakup or Divorce, writes the Substack newsletter Love Letters by Em, and founded GRLPWRDEN, a Denver-based community for young women finding their path—because this work often begins earlier than we realize. EmilyBrownConsulting.com
**Disrupting My Patterns: Why Love Still Didn’t Sustain**
Love is frequently idealized as a force that conquers all obstacles, yet many wrestle with the disheartening truth that their relationships do not endure. Despite attempts to escape unhealthy cycles, the question persists: why does love still not sustain? Understanding the deeper elements can shed light on the intricacies of love and relationships.
**1. Acknowledging Patterns**
The initial step in breaking cycles is acknowledging them. Many individuals find themselves repeating identical relationship dynamics, often stemming from past experiences or family histories. These patterns can appear as selecting partners who mirror prior traumas, engaging in unhealthy communication approaches, or shying away from vulnerability. Recognizing these traits is essential, yet awareness alone doesn’t guarantee transformation.
**2. The Impact of Attachment Styles**
Attachment theory posits that early relationships with caregivers shape how adults relate to others. Those with insecure attachment styles may find it hard to form deep connections, trust, or commit, resulting in tumultuous relationships. Even when efforts are made to consciously alter these patterns, the subconscious impacts of attachment styles can dominate, causing relationships to struggle despite sincere intentions.
**3. The Anxiety of Vulnerability**
Love demands vulnerability, yet many harbor a fear of the emotional exposure it entails. This fear may originate from past heartaches or a desire to defend oneself against potential pain. When individuals erect barriers for protection, they unintentionally foster distance in their relationships. The incapacity to fully reveal oneself can inhibit love from deepening, ultimately leading to its decline.
**4. Communication Failures**
Effective communication is foundational to any lasting relationship. However, numerous couples grapple with articulating their needs, desires, and concerns. Miscommunications can escalate into discord that weakens the love’s foundation. Even when partners strive to break the cycle of ineffective communication, ingrained habits can resurface, leading to unresolved tensions and emotional disconnect.
**5. Outside Influences**
Relationships operate within a broader context; external factors such as societal pressures, familial expectations, and life challenges can significantly affect love’s persistence. Financial burdens, job transitions, or health concerns may introduce additional strains that stress a relationship. Even when partners aim to disrupt their cycles, these external pressures can overwhelm their efforts.
**6. The Fallacy of Change**
Many convince themselves that love alone can alter their relationship dynamics. However, love without action often proves inadequate. Genuine transformation necessitates consistent effort, self-reflection, and a readiness to confront uncomfortable truths. Without a commitment to personal growth and mutual understanding, love may falter, regardless of the best intentions.
**7. The Significance of Self-Love**
Before love can be enduring with someone else, it is essential to cultivate self-love. Individuals struggling with self-acceptance may project their insecurities onto their partners, resulting in a cycle of dependence and discontent. By nurturing a healthy relationship with oneself, individuals can approach love from a stance of strength and security, increasing the potential for lasting connections.
**Conclusion**
Disrupting patterns in love is a difficult yet vital journey. While identifying and addressing these patterns can pave the way for healthier relationships, it is important to recognize that love alone may not ensure longevity. By exploring attachment styles, enhancing communication, and embracing vulnerability, individuals can lay a more robust foundation for love. Ultimately, the journey to enduring love calls for both personal development and a dedication to nurturing the relationship, understanding that love is a living process that transforms over time.