Pink Aura Diaries Presents: Bi*tch, Be More Attracted To What’s Good For You — Not That Bullsh*t You Been Telling Yourself Is Good Part 3: You Keep Calling It a “Type” — But It’s Really a Pattern
Introduction
This is where people get defensive.
Because it feels easier to say, “I just have a type,” than to admit, “I keep choosing the same lesson in different bodies.” Calling it a type makes it sound intentional. Harmless. Even cute. But patterns don’t repeat because they’re fun—they repeat because they’re unfinished.
A type is something you like.
A pattern is something you haven’t healed.
And if you’re honest, the common denominator in every situation that left you drained, confused, or questioning yourself wasn’t them—it was what you tolerated.
A Type Doesn’t Cost You Peace
Let’s clear this up immediately: liking a certain look, energy, or vibe is not the problem. Attraction is natural. Desire is human.
But when every “type” comes with the same emotional consequences—stress, inconsistency, emotional labor, or self-abandonment—you’re not expressing preference anymore. You’re reenacting a script.
A healthy type feels expansive.
A pattern feels exhausting.
If you have to keep explaining, excusing, or enduring someone to make the connection work, that’s not taste—it’s training.
Patterns Feel Personal, But They’re Predictable
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: patterns feel intimate, but they’re incredibly predictable.
Different face.
Same dynamic.
Same ending.
The red flags change outfits. The storylines sound new. But the emotional rhythm stays the same. And the reason it keeps happening isn’t because you’re unlucky—it’s because familiarity keeps sneaking past your standards.
Your nervous system recognizes what it knows. And if chaos, emotional distance, or inconsistency were normalized at any point, your body may mistake that recognition for attraction.
That’s not intuition.
That’s muscle memory.
Why You Defend the Pattern
Most people don’t defend the person—they defend the hope.
You defend the pattern because part of you believes that this time it will turn out differently. That if you explain better, love harder, or wait longer, the outcome will finally change.
But patterns don’t break because you try harder.
They break because you choose differently.
And choosing differently requires letting go of the version of the story where the pattern eventually rewards you.
The Cost of Calling It a Type
Calling it a type keeps you passive. It removes responsibility. It turns repetition into coincidence.
But once you call it what it is—a pattern—you gain power.
Because patterns can be interrupted.
You don’t have to demonize your past to outgrow it. You don’t have to shame yourself for surviving with the tools you had. But you do have to stop romanticizing what consistently drains you.
Growth starts when honesty replaces nostalgia.
Reflection
Sit with this without judgment.
What qualities keep showing up in my “type”?
How do those qualities make me feel over time—not at the beginning?
What would attraction look like if it didn’t require me to overextend?
Closing
Your patterns are not a life sentence—they’re a signal.
A signal that something inside you learned how to survive a certain dynamic and mistook endurance for compatibility. But you’re allowed to outgrow what once felt familiar. You’re allowed to redefine attraction without guilt.
A type should excite you.
A connection should support you.
A pattern should be broken.
And the moment you stop calling it “just your type,” you start giving yourself permission to choose better.
Now Let’s Get Even More Uncomfortable…
Once you admit it’s not a type but a pattern, the next question gets loud:
What part of you keeps saying yes to what keeps hurting you?
That’s the truth we’re walking into next.
Pink Aura Diaries, XOXO. ππ₯










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