Why We Fall for the Wrong People - Jessica Baum

The Illusion of Safety

Jessica opens with a powerful redefinition of safety—not as the absence of hardship, but as the internal, bodily felt sense that "you'll be okay no matter what happens." This concept inverts the common notion that safety means a problem-free existence. Instead, true safety is about knowing, even through struggles and uncertainty, you have a secure base—internally and in your relationships—to come back to. But what does that really mean for those of us who have never quite felt safe or connected?

As Jessica explains, the world often conditions us, especially women, to prize independence as a shield against vulnerability and potential pain. We're taught to be "boss ladies," self-reliant and successful. Yet that independence frequently comes at the cost of emotional disconnection and loneliness. The frantic striving that many chase as a defense mechanism actually undercuts the genuine relational safety and presence that bring meaning to life. Haven't you ever noticed how success sometimes deepens isolation rather than eases it?

How Childhood Shapes Our Relationships

Jessica's work illuminates how our earliest attachments sculpt the patterns we enact as adults. Our nervous systems internalize implicit memories—not explicit stories, but sensations—of how safe or unsafe we were as children. These early dynamics become the blueprint for what feels "normal," for better or worse, and thus shape our adult partner choices. We are biologically wired to seek the familiar. But what if familiarity is not safety but trauma? Why would anyone go back to pain again and again?

The answer lies in the powerful pull of these implicit memories—sensory imprints stored in the body—that compel us to repeat patterns, often recreating neglect or abandonment in different forms. When we crave connection, we might mistake chaos, intensity, or drama for closeness, because those were the patterns imprinted on us in childhood. This is why toxic or volatile relationships can ironically feel like home. Do you recognize how this cycles of trauma can trap us in Groundhog Day relationships, looping back decades to unresolved wounds?

The Cost of Disconnection

To cope with early unsafety, we all develop inner protectors—behaviors like workaholism, over-exercising, substance use, or compulsive online scrolling—that help distance us from difficult feelings. These coping mechanisms serve a vital function: they protect us from overwhelming pain when we're not ready to face it. Yet they also perpetuate disconnection from the very body sensations and emotions we need to heal. It's a paradox of survival.

Jessica points out that this dissociation from the body is partly due to society's left-brain emphasis on doing, achieving, and productivity—qualities that disconnect us from the right brain's emotional and relational capacities. Is it any wonder that in highly achievement-focused cultures, even individuals who "have it all" professionally often feel empty, anxious, or lonely? Might the real antidote lie not in more doing, but in slowing down and reconnecting?

The Science of Attachment

Building on the attachment framework, Jessica explains that secure attachment creates a physiological blueprint for safety in the nervous system—a felt sense that allows openness and risk-taking in the world. Yet for many, insecure attachments manifest as anxious or avoidant tendencies, which complicate adult relationships with patterns of pursuit and withdrawal.

Jessica highlights the magnetic, yet painful, dance between anxious and avoidant partners: one moves closer out of fear of abandonment while the other pulls away to self-regulate, reinforcing mutual dysregulation. This neurobiological push-pull can feel like a vicious cycle of misattunement. In such instances, trust and safety become elusive, but they're not impossible.

Healing Happens in Relationship

A core message of Jessica's work is that healing attachment wounds cannot be a solo journey. What was wounded in relationship must be healed in relationship. This means vulnerability: allowing ourselves to regress emotionally, to re-experience old hurts with a trusted other who can "hold space" safely without judgment or fixing. It requires finding "anchors"—people whose nervous systems are regulated enough to co-regulate ours.

But Jessica acknowledges how culturally challenging this is, especially for men, for whom vulnerability is often stigmatized or feared as weakness. How can we redefine masculinity to include emotional openness, when so many feel they must suppress their feelings to survive? Healing, she argues, is a slow, incremental process of softening control, slowing down, and allowing connection—often starting with incremental steps and supportive others, such as therapists or safe friends.

Conflict, Rupture, and Repair

Contrary to popular belief that conflict signals relationship failure, Jessica frames rupture and repair—a cycle where connection is broken and then consciously restored—as the crucible of intimacy and growth. Learning to navigate conflict without shame, blame, or avoidance allows couples (and friendships) to deepen trust and emotional safety over time.

Effective repair involves empathy, vulnerability, and the willingness to witness each other's inner experiences. This process is imperfect, often difficult, but essential for building resilient bonds. Have you noticed how some couples fight constantly but still stay deeply connected, while others avoid conflict to their detriment? The difference may lie in their capacity for authentic rupture and repair.

Moving Toward Security: Practical Beginnings

Jessica invites listeners to start by mapping their "wheel of attachment"—reflecting on early family dynamics, who felt safe or unsafe, and the physical sensations in their bodies around these people. This awareness is the gateway to understanding present patterns and choosing differently.

While such work benefits from professional support, it also requires personal courage: to slow down, notice bodily sensations, communicate needs, and ask for safety. Progress is not linear and not quick, but it is transformative.

Reflective Takeaway: Can We Choose Safety Over Familiarity?

Jessica Bal's wisdom reveals a poignant truth: we often fall for the wrong people not because we're destined to suffer, but because our nervous systems crave what's familiar—even if that familiarity masks danger. True healing requires daring to seek safety that feels unfamiliar and vulnerable, forging connections that challenge old patterns and build new relational blueprints.

In a world that prizes independence and achievement, can we reclaim the messy, uncertain work of vulnerability and interdependence? Can we recognize that safety is not perfection or absence of pain but the presence of trusted connection, both within ourselves and with others? These are the essential questions Jessica's work leaves us to consider—and perhaps, to begin answering.