If You’re Tired of Attracting the Wrong People, Read This: The Patterns I Had to Break to Stop
- Corey Tess | Core Consulting
- Aug 13
- 13 min read
For a long time, I thought the problem was other people. The men who ghosted. The friendships that fizzled. The family members who couldn’t love me in the way I needed. And in some cases, sure, the problem was them. But if I’m being honest, I was also the common denominator.
It’s hard to admit that without sliding into full self-blame mode or going down a rabbit hole of taking way too much accountability for the mistakes others made. But the truth is, I was operating from patterns that were wired into me long before I had a say in it and though that is true, I am burdened with the responsibility of breaking those patterns and so are you.
Being adopted at birth (my birth mom was 14 when she got pregnant), being sent away at 14 by my adoptive family to a fraudulent "school" (basically a mormon cult) that took away my freedom and security and forced me to complete rituals like being buried alive to understand what it'd be like to be put in an early grave (watch that story here 👀), being bullied and abused and even called out of homeroom every day to have my outfit checked by administration to make sure my early developed curves weren't revealing too much at the ripe age of 13, moving to another country by myself at age 16, being trapped in a relationship with a 23 year old physically abusive alcoholic when I was 17 and going homeless to leave him, being sexually assaulted and blamed for it... the list goes on but I'm not here to trauma dump 🥴.
You name it - I experienced it at a young age and it programmed me to learn to survive by reading people’s energy before they said a word… all of that shaped how I loved and what I tolerated. The thing about programming is that it creates certain patterns that replay over and over until there’s either a dramatic system crash or a much-needed update. The truth is, we have the power to initiate that upgrade at any time by changing the pattern — essentially rewiring the circuits in our brain.
Note: Nikola Tesla believed numbers held the key to the universe (*cough, cough* YOUniverse), and while most people focus on his obsession with 3, 6, and 9, the real magic of numerology is how it weaves itself into our own lives. For me, the number 14 has been a constant breadcrumb (the only kinds of breadcrumbs I'd like you to accept are clues from the universe) — at 14, I was sent away; at 14, my birth mother got pregnant and gave me away. Fourteen is a karmic number, and my life path number is 14-5, which maps directly to the core wounds I came here to heal, like abandonment. Also, I think it's ironic that my name is CORE-y — but I digress. Even my birth date is like a blueprint, quietly outlining the exact patterns I’ve had to break and the reason they existed in the first place. And I can bet a whole lot yours is too.
Looking back, my “normal” in relationships was:
Working way too hard to prove my worth
Mistaking chemistry for safety and love
Trying to “heal” people instead of letting them show up whole and heal themselves (note: you are not a rehabilitation center sweetie pie)
Ignoring my own needs because I didn’t want to be “too much” or "annoying"
Over-explaining everything out of fear of being misunderstood or judged
Shrinking myself to keep the peace
Pattern #1: Proving I Was Worth Staying For
It started young. When you feel like love can be taken away at any moment, you grow this almost Olympic-level skill in becoming what people want. I knew how to be funny, how to be easygoing, how to dress for that friend group, how to shrink myself so they didn’t feel threatened. But here’s the cost: I was performing, not connecting. And if you’re performing for love, it’s not real love.
What I had to do differently: I started letting myself be seen — not just the polished, high-energy, “I’m fine” version that can "handle it all". I started allowing interactions when I didn't feel my best - no make-up, depressed or bloated from a junk food binge I had worked for so long to avoid. And on the other token, I let my light shine bright. I watched who was blinded by it and triggered by it. I knew it was their own reflection, their own issues but this time I chuckled to myself like "yikes, they got some shadow work to do" instead of panicking that I was the source of someone else's uncomfortability and even worse, retaliation solely based on my existence.
I enforced boundaries like it was my day job. It was hard at first, and I honestly felt like a b**ch but that's when I knew I was really healing. I practiced saying things like, “That's actually so rude and offensive” when someone would say something that rubbed me the wrong way instead of laughing or “I don’t have the capacity for that right now” when I genuinely just felt like I couldn't handle it or straight up just didn't want to. No explanation necessary. At first, it felt like walking into a room naked. But the more I did it, the more I realized: the right people don’t leave when you’re honest.
Disclaimer: They all left. Womp. "They" as in the people from my old life who couldn't match the vibrational frequency I had elevated to by enforcing my boundaries. And you know what? This time, I let them. Shoot, I practically opened the door for them... don't let it hit y'all on the way out babydolls, because at that point I knew they weren't the right people for me.
And when I was left behind in the silence facing my biggest core wounds of abandonment, rejection and feeling unworthy, unwanted and misunderstood by the people I valued the most, that's when everything changed for the better and my power was restored because I had nothing left to lose but the most valuable thing of all: myself. And there's no way I was willing to lose her too.
Pattern #2: Confusing Intensity with Love
They say "when you know, you know" and there was only one time in my life that I felt this way. There was someone once — that soul-deep, almost psychic connection, the dreams, the magnetic pull… it felt like fate, and honestly I believe it was. He felt the same at one point admitting his obsession with me. And boy, did that feel good. It was euphoric knowing it was so intensely mutual. But what goes up must come down, and yes I fell, I fell hard. This connection kept me in limbo, waiting for breadcrumbs, and, embarrassingly, scrolling TikTok tarot readings desperate for a “sign.” (That's when you know you're down bad. 🫠) I ignored the truth that someone can feel like “home” and still not show up for you.
I'll never forget one of the many dreams that I had about this man. I was standing in the kitchen of my childhood home, where most of my trauma happened (and also where I was taken by two strangers and brought to that school I previously mentioned against my will). Mind you, the kitchen is known as the "heart of the home". I was standing there with him, my sister and a couple of my closest people as well as his best friend and some of his closest people. We were talking and laughing and suddenly his group left and he followed behind slowly and apprehensively through the back door with no explanation. His group disappeared but I stood in the doorway longing for him, wondering why he left and then I saw him appear in the upstairs window of the yellow house across the backyard. My house and this house were separated by a fence and a large pool in their backyard (btw this guy lives across the Atlantic Ocean so the metaphor is real). He stood at the window stone faced just staring at me and then turned a light on outside the house. I felt the dream start to fade and as I slowly woke up, I heard a voice whisper "He left the house and turned the light on."
This dream happened when we were still good but looking back it was a warning, a foreshadowing of this man's purpose in my life. In total transparency it took me years to move forward from this connection, it always haunted me in the back of my mind. The doubt that you deny is the truth you won't accept. It's painful but its necessary. Intensity has a way of blinding you. It made me forget to check: Do I actually feel safe here? Do I feel respected? Do I feel secure? Is this sustainable?
And just like the childhood house that once brought me comfort, it also brought chaos and pain. An obvious metaphor for the man who felt like home, who accepted and shined a light on the parts of myself I felt ashamed of while simultaneously wreaking havoc on my central nervous system. But that was his purpose - to show me. Then he had to leave with no explanation so I could light the way on my own.
What I had to do differently: First I took time for myself. I did things that made me feel good, I let myself feel to heal. And when I felt ready to open up my heart again, I started asking myself early on, “How does my body feel with this person?” If my nervous system was in fight-or-flight half the time, that was my answer — no matter how strong the pull.
The rudest awakening I had during this process of reflection was that man did feel like “home” and he did calm my nervous system… until he didn’t. It got to a point where the smallest effort like a simple reply on Snapchat from him (ugh - grow up! Why is a man in their 30's on Snapchat anyway) was the dopamine hit of a lifetime. And when I realized I had spent more time in limbo, praying for reconciliation, than I ever did in the actual window of time we were “having our moment,” I knew I had to work daily toward acceptance and closure.
Closure clearly wasn’t going to come from a conversation. It was going to come from me.
And that’s when the First Law of Thermodynamics became my mantra:
"Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed from one form to another."
This allowed me to not deny myself that it was real but to move forward knowing it was time to move on. If love wasn’t going to stay in the form I wanted, I could still transform it — into self-respect, into creativity, into energy I used to rebuild my life and with time, someone who better served my needs did come along. And this time it didn't sweep me off my feet throwing me off balance but it kept me grounded and steady.
Pattern #3: Playing the Healer
Somewhere along the way, I picked up the belief that my love could “fix” people. I think it came from both my healer lineage and my own need to feel needed. It wasn’t always obvious — I wasn’t out here choosing the most broken person in the room. But I gravitated toward people who had unhealed wounds that I could pour myself into (or more so they gravitated towards me and I welcomed them with open arms). It felt noble or maybe just familiar. It was exhausting. I was constantly drained and continuously in the loop of never doing enough for the unhealed persons in question. But how could I be enough for someone who wasn't enough for themself? It was a cyclical suicide mission of rising from the ashes just to fall so hard I'd practically die inside all over again. It only changed when my body broke down and the physical symptoms grew so painful I knew it was time to get off this ride.
What I had to do differently: I stopped being the rehab center for emotionally unavailable people. My new question became: “If I stopped pouring into them, what would be left?” If the answer was “not much,” I walked away. And btw, this parallels with the inner work of knowing "not much" is NOT ENOUGH — you deserve more than a freakin' breadcrumb, no need to starve out here babe.
This looked like unfollowing, blocking, not checking follower/following lists and comparing myself to my latest replacement, and essentially logging off. It looked like flipping off the "initiation" switch and flipping on the "receiving" switch, trusting that someone else can step up for once in the meantime. It looks like focusing on pouring all the love and energy you gave to them back into yourself instead. It's the developing inner knowing that when you pour into yourself, ignite your light and turn that brightness up x10, others heal as well by watching from a distance, by feeling your energy telepathically, or by realizing what they lost and feeling the force of a necessary shift.
Pattern #4: Shrinking to Keep the Peace
I can light up a room when I want to. But I also know how to dim my light so someone else doesn’t feel insecure. I’ve done it in romantic relationships, friendships, even business partnerships. It’s that old fear: If I shine too bright, they’ll leave. But here’s the plot twist — the people who are right for you will cheer louder when you win.
I think most of us have experienced that one friend (*ahem* frenemy) who pretends to route for you but low key they are praying for your downfall. They think they are slick but the not so subtle microaggressions really say it all like stating boldly "tattoos give you cancer" as I sit there covered in ink or "no wonder you get so much attention, you must get so tired of being fetishized" as I sit there trying to cover my curvy body and God given boobs uncomfortably.
I'll never forget when I dropped my debut album and my so called "best friend" didn't even listen to it, let alone share it or like it online, and worst of all, went dead silent in conversation when I mentioned how happy I was that I finally followed through with a childhood dream. I thought to myself, maybe I'm bragging too much? But no, I wasn't. She just couldn't handle someone else's success. It triggered inferiority or a time when she failed to listen to her inner calling and I was simply a reminder, a reflection in the mirror of her own shortcoming. I had a choice to hold that and feel awkward about it or let it go knowing it genuinely had nothing to do with me but also I deserved better.
Same thing goes for dating. I can't even count the amount of energy I spent worrying on how a man would perceive my job title as a personal trainer working in the gym around a lot of men or showing off my sensual, creative energy through my songwriting and recording music. It came down to two things: the level of security and confidence a man had in themself and me, and whether they were someone actually meant for me. If they didn't want that, they have the free will to not experience me but at the same token, they were never meant for me in the first place if they couldn't handle me pursuing my calling, my purpose and my mission.
I was faced with a choice in those moments — do I continue in my authentic truth and trust that the right people will admire and support this or do I minimize and stop it all just to appease a temporary person? I hate to admit at one point in my life this was a harder choice than I can even fathom now looking back because it's so obvious to me now what the right choice is. The truth is, that wasn't love, it was control. It wasn't acceptance, it was asking me to change.
What I had to do differently: I stopped making myself smaller. I started sharing my wins, speaking up when something didn’t feel right, and taking up the space I naturally take up. If I was afraid to post something or say something out of fear of how it would be perceived for example, I challenged myself to do it anyway and every time I did, I took a little more of my power back. The people who stayed got even closer. The ones who drifted? They weren’t my people to begin with and they needed to leave to clear space for better more aligned individuals.
Pattern #5: Not Knowing When to Let Go
This one took me the longest to learn. I used to hold on so tightly — to people, to stories, to “what could have been” — because letting go felt like losing a part of myself. But the truth is, everything here is temporary. Every relationship, every chapter, every version of me. 'People come for a reason, a season, a lesson, or a blessing.' And that’s okay. Part of my healing was learning to trust the universe enough to release my grip. To enjoy people fully while they’re here, without trying to make them stay forever. To move on with gratitude, even when the grief feels like it might swallow me whole. That’s the dance of Earth’s density — the pleasure and the pain, the light and the dark. We’re here to explore our character in both. And newsflash: we agreed to it. These experiences are soul contracts we signed up for to elevate, awaken and understand knowing we would have to let go of everything we encounter and love.
What I had to do differently: I recognized that the nostalgia of good times with old friends that I cut contact with is a gut wrenching punch but it's balanced with so much more joy to come and memories to make with new friends.
I started meeting people where they are, without attaching them to my future. I allowed myself to cry when they left, but I didn’t make it mean I was abandoned. I began holding everything — and everyone — more lightly, so I could love more deeply while they were here but function fine when they were gone.
This looked like always having "my own" things, hobbies, and alone time. I made sure not to lose myself in anyone or give too much of myself or my time no matter what. My priorities remained making sure my biological needs were met first, then my creative freedom, then my rest time, of course time to connect with my spirit team and lastly others. By doing this, other people started respecting that and respecting me because the only way they had access to me was through honoring those boundaries.
The Breakthrough
The biggest shift happened when I stopped looking for “the one” and started being “the one” for myself. I had to mother myself in the ways I never got. I had to be the partner to myself that I wished someone else would be. I had to be the compassionate bestie that I longed for. That meant listening to my body when it said “rest.” It meant nourishing myself instead of numbing. It meant choosing friendships where the energy felt reciprocal.
The moment I got solid in that? Healthier relationships started showing up without me chasing. People who respected my boundaries. People who celebrated my weirdness. People who accepted me and loved me for everything I am and everything I'm not. People who met me halfway without me dragging them there. People who respected my past because it shaped the wonderful woman in front of them. Where energy goes, energy flows and very quickly after I committed to consistently putting that energy into myself, I received other individuals wanting to put their energy into me in abundance. Reminder: quality over quantity, so be patient.
If you’re reading this and realizing you’re stuck in one of these patterns — start small. You don’t have to flip your whole relationship style overnight. Just pick one moment this week to tell the truth about how you feel. One moment to choose yourself first. One moment to stop chasing someone who’s not meeting you where you are.
It’s not selfish. It’s sacred. And it’s how you finally make space for the kind of love that doesn’t just stay… it grows.
Want more guidance on how to change these patterns? Book a session with me! ♥
XoXo,
Coach Corey
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