Understanding the Automatic Patterns That Keep Us Stuck
“I know better.”
I’ve heard some version of those words more times than I could possibly count.
Sometimes I’m sitting across from someone in my office.
Sometimes we’re talking over Zoom.
Sometimes it’s a conversation over coffee.
And sometimes I’m the one saying it to myself.
I know better.
I know I shouldn’t keep worrying about this.
I know the cigarette isn’t actually helping me.
I know I shouldn’t care so much about what they think.
I know I need to say no.
I know this person isn’t the person who hurt me years ago.
I know I don’t have to get angry every time this happens.
I know I’m safe.
I know I need to stop replaying that conversation.
I know.
I know.
I know.
And yet…
Here we are again.
That’s usually when people start blaming themselves.
Maybe I’m weak.
Maybe I don’t have enough discipline.
Maybe something is wrong with me.
Maybe I just need more willpower.
Maybe I haven’t prayed enough.
Maybe I’m lazy.
Maybe I’m broken.
After more than a decade of helping people work through anxiety, habits, fears, trauma, grief, emotional reactions, smoking, confidence issues, and all kinds of other things human beings manage to get themselves tangled up in, I’ve come to see the problem a little differently.
Sometimes you don’t have a knowledge problem.
You have a pattern problem.
And knowing better doesn’t automatically change a pattern.
Your Brain Is Really Good at Learning
Think about how much of your day happens without requiring much conscious thought.
You don’t carefully analyze every movement necessary to brush your teeth.
You probably don’t consciously think through every step involved in backing your car out of the driveway.
You don’t have to relearn how to tie your shoes every morning.
You’ve done these things enough that they have become increasingly automatic.
That’s useful.
Imagine having to consciously relearn everything every day.
You’d never make it out of the house.
Our ability to develop habits and automatic routines frees attention for everything else we need to do.
The problem is that we don’t only learn useful patterns.
We learn other things too.
We learn what gets attention.
What gets us criticized.
What helps us avoid conflict.
What makes us feel accepted.
What helps us feel safe.
What brings temporary relief.
What situations we should avoid.
What kinds of people we should distrust.
When we should speak.
When we should stay quiet.
And sometimes those lessons become automatic too.
Psychological research on habits supports this basic idea: much of everyday behavior can become driven by learned routines and environmental cues rather than deliberate conscious intention.
That isn’t necessarily a defect.
It’s part of being human.
But occasionally a pattern that was learned for a very good reason becomes a problem later.
“Keep Your Head Down and Be Quiet”
Imagine growing up in an environment where drawing attention to yourself usually ended badly.
Maybe speaking up brought criticism.
Maybe disagreeing started an argument.
Maybe expressing an emotion got you mocked.
Maybe somebody in the house was unpredictable.
Maybe keeping everybody happy made life easier.
So you learned:
Keep your head down.
Don’t make trouble.
Be quiet.
At ten years old, that may have been brilliant.
You found a way to navigate the world you lived in.
But you’re not ten anymore.
You’re forty-five.
You’re sitting in a meeting with an idea you’d like to share.
And suddenly your heart starts pounding.
Your throat tightens.
You start wondering what everybody will think.
So you say nothing.
Then you walk back to your car thinking:
Why didn’t I speak up?
You knew you were allowed to.
You knew nobody was going to punish you.
You knew your idea was worthwhile.
Your adult mind knew better.
But another learned response was already running.
That’s the kind of thing I mean when I talk about patterns.
The Story Beneath the Behavior
One of the most useful questions I’ve learned to ask isn’t:
“What’s wrong with you?”
It’s:
“When did this response make sense?”
That’s a very different question.
Someone who constantly tries to keep everybody happy may have learned that other people’s happiness meant safety.
Someone who avoids confrontation may have learned that disagreement meant rejection.
Someone who struggles to trust may have very good reasons for having learned not to trust easily.
Someone who constantly anticipates disaster may have lived through enough unpredictable experiences that watching for the next problem once felt necessary.
Someone who reaches for a cigarette every time stress rises has repeated that sequence enough times that stress and smoking may become strongly associated.
Someone who avoids social situations because of anxiety experiences immediate relief when they stay home.
And that relief matters.
Avoidance can reduce fear in the moment, but that short-term relief can also reinforce the pattern. Your brain essentially gets another piece of evidence saying:
“Good thing we avoided that.”
So next time?
Avoidance becomes even more tempting.
This is how a life can gradually become smaller without anyone consciously deciding to make it smaller.
Trigger → Story → Response → Behavior → Reinforcement
Here’s a simple way I sometimes think about these patterns.
Something happens.
TRIGGER
You receive a text:
“Can we talk?”
Your mind immediately interprets it.
STORY
Something is wrong.
They’re upset with me.
What did I do?
Your body responds.
AUTOMATIC RESPONSE
Heart rate changes.
Muscles tense.
Stomach tightens.
Thoughts start racing.
Then you do something.
BEHAVIOR
Maybe you immediately call.
Maybe you send three messages asking what’s wrong.
Maybe you mentally review everything you’ve done for the past week.
Maybe you become defensive before you even know what the conversation is about.
And then something happens that reinforces the pattern.
REINFORCEMENT
Perhaps you finally get reassurance.
The anxiety drops.
Your mind learns:
“When I feel this way, I need reassurance immediately.”
Now repeat some version of that sequence hundreds of times.
Eventually it can feel less like something you’re doing…
and more like who you are.
“I’m just an anxious person.”
“I’m a people-pleaser.”
“I have a temper.”
“I’ve always been this way.”
Maybe.
But I’m interested in another possibility.
Maybe some of what you’ve been calling your personality is actually a collection of things you’ve learned to do very well.
And if something was learned…
perhaps something different can be learned too.
Why Willpower Often Isn’t Enough
This is also why I don’t automatically assume someone lacks discipline because they keep repeating a behavior.
Willpower can certainly matter.
Choices matter.
Personal responsibility matters.
But imagine trying to consciously overpower every automatic response you’ve spent decades rehearsing.
That’s exhausting.
It’s one reason New Year’s resolutions can feel so powerful on January 1 and so distant by February.
You haven’t merely decided to change a behavior.
You’re often competing with:
old routines,
environmental cues,
emotional associations,
expectations,
short-term rewards,
avoidance,
and stories you’ve repeated so often they no longer sound like stories.
They sound like facts.
“I can’t handle conflict.”
“I need this cigarette.”
“Everybody is judging me.”
“If I say no, they’ll be upset.”
“I have to fix this.”
“Something bad is going to happen.”
Before changing a pattern, it helps to recognize that you’re in one.
So Where Does Hypnosis Fit Into This?
This is usually where someone expects the hypnotherapist to say:
“And hypnosis fixes all of that!”
No.
I wish human beings were that simple.
Hypnosis is one of the tools I use.
It can involve focused attention, imagery, suggestion, and working with thoughts, expectations, associations, and responses in ways that may be useful for some people and some problems.
But it isn’t magic.
And research on hypnosis varies considerably depending upon what it’s being used for. For example, hypnosis has been studied for anxiety associated with medical and dental procedures, pain, smoking cessation, and other concerns, but the strength and consistency of the evidence differs by application.
That’s why I don’t build my work around the idea that every person needs to be hypnotized.
Sometimes we use hypnosis.
Sometimes guided imagery.
Sometimes breathing.
Sometimes mindfulness.
Sometimes reframing.
Sometimes we explore the story underneath the behavior.
Sometimes we practice responding differently to a trigger.
Sometimes we discover that what looked like one problem is actually connected to something completely different.
People aren’t protocols.
The question isn’t:
“What technique do I use on anxiety?”
The question is:
“What is happening with this particular person, and what might help?”
Start Getting Curious
If there’s something you keep doing even though you “know better,” try something different this week.
Instead of immediately criticizing yourself…
study the pattern.
Get curious.
The next time it happens, ask:
1. What just happened?
What was the trigger?
A conversation?
A feeling?
A memory?
A person?
A place?
A thought?
2. What did I immediately tell myself about it?
Don’t worry about whether the thought was rational.
Just notice it.
3. What happened in my body?
Tension?
Racing heart?
Restlessness?
Anger?
Heaviness?
Craving?
4. What did I want to do next?
Run?
Smoke?
Eat?
Argue?
Shut down?
Apologize?
Seek reassurance?
Pick up the phone?
5. What did doing that give me in the short term?
Relief?
Comfort?
Safety?
Control?
Connection?
Distraction?
That’s often where things get interesting.
Because behaviors that seem completely irrational from the outside frequently make much more sense once we understand what they’re accomplishing in the moment.
That doesn’t mean the behavior is healthy.
It doesn’t mean you should keep doing it.
It means we’re beginning to understand it.
And understanding gives us somewhere to work.
You Don’t Have to Hate the Old Pattern
This may be one of the most important parts.
Sometimes people become angry at themselves when they recognize an old coping mechanism.
I wasted all these years.
Why did I let people treat me that way?
Why didn’t I speak up?
Why couldn’t I just stop?
Why am I still affected by something that happened thirty years ago?
I understand the frustration.
But shame isn’t necessarily the best teacher.
Maybe that pattern once helped you.
Maybe staying quiet kept the peace.
Maybe being hyperaware helped you anticipate trouble.
Maybe pleasing people helped you maintain relationships you depended upon.
Maybe avoiding something prevented you from becoming overwhelmed.
Maybe the cigarette really did give you five minutes where you stopped and breathed.
We can acknowledge what a behavior did for you without pretending it’s still serving you well.
Sometimes I think of it this way:
Thank the old strategy for getting you this far.
Then decide whether you still need it.
Change Isn’t About Becoming Someone Else
The goal isn’t to manufacture a completely different human being.
It’s often much simpler than that.
Notice the old pattern sooner.
Create a little space between trigger and response.
Question the story.
Practice another response.
Repeat.
Sometimes you’ll catch it.
Sometimes you won’t.
Then eventually something happens that used to send you spiraling…
and you notice:
Huh.
I handled that differently.
That’s change.
Not magic.
Not perfection.
Learning.
Maybe You Don’t Need Another Piece of Advice
You’ve probably already consumed plenty.
Books.
Podcasts.
YouTube videos.
Facebook posts.
Maybe even articles like this one.
You may already know what you “should” do.
The question may be:
Why aren’t you doing what you already know?
That’s where I’m interested.
What happens between knowing…
and doing?
What pattern keeps appearing?
What story accompanies it?
What does the response accomplish?
What would need to change for you to respond differently?
Those are much better questions than:
“What’s wrong with me?”
Because sometimes there’s nothing mysterious happening at all.
Your mind learned something.
It practiced it.
It became automatic.
And now the lesson doesn’t fit your life anymore.
Maybe it’s time to teach it something new.
If You Recognize Yourself Here
You don’t have to know whether you need hypnosis.
You don’t have to diagnose yourself.
And you don’t have to figure out which technique would work best before contacting me.
That’s what the Initial Consultation is for.
We’ll talk about what’s happening, what you’ve already tried, and what you’d like to be different.
If I believe the kind of work I do may be useful, I’ll explain what I recommend.
If I don’t believe I’m the right person for what you’re experiencing, I’ll tell you that too.
Initial Consultation: $50
The consultation fee is credited toward your $175 Initial Session if you decide to continue.
Sessions after that are $95.
No packages.
No contracts.
No predetermined number of sessions.
Just a conversation to figure out what’s happening and what the next step might be.
Because knowing better is important.
But sometimes knowing isn’t where the problem is.
Sometimes the pattern has to change.
Understanding changes everything.
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