«Hidden Family Dynamics Behind Loneliness in Relationships»

Due to complicated connections and hidden family dynamics, we sometimes end up feeling alone — not only when it’s hard to begin a relationship, but even when we’re already in one.

In this story, I explore the dynamics that may lead to this sense of loneliness, offering a fresh perspective on relationships.

Seeing these dynamics can be a starting point for personal growth — and for relationships and a life that feel more whole.

Unfinished previous relationships

Story 1: Seeing the former partner in the current one or in a new one.

A woman came to me asking to understand what was holding her back from building new relationships with men. The fear of betrayal was mentioned as an obstacle, but the cause wasn’t clear. Her husband had passed away ten years before our meeting. As she explained, the pain had long since subsided, and she no longer thought about him.

She wore an engagement ring, which I drew her attention to.

After she placed herself and her potential partner in a constellation, using figurines, I asked her to place one more figure — without telling her who it represented (a partial blind constellation). She placed this figure right in front of her, with her potential partner behind her.

In individual constellations, I can step into the role of a representative and share what reveals itself in the field.

After describing what came through in that role, she said: “This is my husband.”

This revealed a dynamic that leads many women toward loneliness — within a relationship, or in life in general: “I feel and behave with each new man as if my ex-partner is standing in front of me.”

Who was she really afraid of betraying? In the constellation, it became clear.

The way forward: to see all the good and the difficult that had existed between her and her husband, to give it a place in her heart, and to continue her own journey with someone else — while respecting what was left behind.

Two weeks later, she wrote that she had taken off the engagement ring. She felt lighter, in soul and heart. The fear of betrayal had lifted.

Note: when this dynamic stays unseen, a person doesn’t only carry loneliness — each new partner may come to echo the previous one, through attitude, behavior, character. Once the dynamic becomes visible, its hold weakens, and a choice becomes possible that wasn’t there before.

Story 2: To be connected with someone who is no longer there.

Julia, 35, had been married for five years. A year into the marriage, she began feeling persistent anger toward her husband, and a deep sense of loneliness. “I want to find our way back to how we loved each other, if that’s possible.”

During the constellation, she realized she was carrying feelings that belonged to her husband’s first wife. His previous marriage had ended abruptly, and he had chosen never to revisit the breakup, or the memories tied to it.

The constellation brought forward something simple: feelings that go unacknowledged tend to look for a way to be felt.

Here, the first wife’s unresolved anger and resentment had found their way into Julia’s own feelings — unintentionally carrying what her husband had wanted to leave behind.

This showed a direct thread: the unfinished business of the first marriage was shaping the relationship with Julia, the second wife.

Moving forward, Julia was invited into a posture of respect toward the first wife — recognizing her own place as the second wife, and stepping back from what remained unresolved between her husband and his first marriage. This is what allows the identification to loosen.

Julia, aged 35, has been married for 5 years. However, a year into her marriage, she began experiencing persistent anger towards her husband and a profound sense of loneliness. “I want to regain our previous love, if possible.”

During the constellation process, the woman realized that she was replacing the feelings of her husband’s first wife. His previous marriage ended abruptly, and he had chosen not to revisit the painful breakup or the memories associated with his first wife.

The constellation process brought forth a profound understanding: suppressed emotions tend to resurface seeking acknowledgement.

In this case, the unresolved anger and resentment from the first wife found an unintended expression in the feelings of Julia, the second wife, unintentionally reflecting what the husband wished to avoid.

This revealed a crucial connection – the unresolved issues from the man’s first marriage were influencing his relationship with Julia, his second wife.

To move forward, Julia was encouraged to adopt a perspective of respect towards the first wife. She needed to recognize her own place as the second wife and refrain from interfering in the unfinished matters between the first wife and her husband. Doing so would prevent the inevitable identification with the first wife’s emotions.

This dynamic, to be connected with someone who is no longer present, underscores a systemic response to excluding people, values, or significant elements that shape the family in its current form.

Standing on the same level as a parent, inside their relationship

This pattern tends to arise when, for some reason, a father’s love cannot fully reach the mother, or the mother’s love cannot fully reach the father. The child steps into that gap, becoming entangled in what belongs between the parents.

Story 1: Connected to a parent’s former partner.

A woman came to me wanting to understand why, despite wanting to build a family, she kept meeting married men, or men in the middle of long divorces — leaving her with loneliness and despair.

When I asked her to show me her place in the family, she placed herself between her father and her mother.

That’s not a place that belongs to a child — or to an adult daughter who wants her own family. It’s an example of what’s sometimes called hierarchical overtaking.

It turned out her parents had divorced because of her father’s mistress. In the constellation, she saw that she had taken on the place of that woman — the one her father never married after the divorce.

I’ve seen this pattern often: a person unknowingly stands in for a parent’s former partner. On some level, they remain bound to that unfinished thread — and it becomes harder to build something lasting with someone new.

Story 2: Ruling out one parent as a match for the other.

A young woman came with a question: men notice her, but they don’t seem to marry her.

In session, it became clear that in her family, her mother had been physically present but emotionally absent. The girl had filled that emotional space herself.

She became “Daddy’s Girl” — attuned to her father, sensitive to what he needed, and carrying resentment toward her mother. In the family system, she had placed herself at her father’s level — in a sense, standing in her mother’s place. In this dynamic, she is metaphorically “married” to her father, and in real life, her relationships with men don’t progress to marriage. Men don’t commit to her because the role of the “husband” is already occupied by her father.

Bert Hellinger wrote about this pattern directly — that a woman who can love and honor her mother tends to be more at ease in loving a man, and a man at peace with his father tends to be more available to a woman, than someone caught in rejecting that parent.

Repeating the fate of someone in the family who lived alone

Story: Out of love, I’m doing this for you

A woman of 37, deeply skilled in her work, remained unmarried. “I can’t hold onto a relationship. They all end after a month or two. I find myself alone again — the same cycle.”

I asked her to place a figure for “the one you’re following” beside her. She tensed, then began to cry.

The figure that came to her was her mother. Her mother had left her father when she was two. After the divorce, her mother lived on her own. The family rarely spoke of the father.

By staying without a partner, the woman was — on a deep, unconscious level — staying loyal to her mother: “Out of love, I’ll do this no matter the cost to me.”

This hidden loyalty to her mother carried, within it, the exclusion of her father. In her adult life, it showed up as pushing men away. It takes courage — a kind of bravery of heart and soul — to step back from that quiet service to the mother, to welcome the father back in, and to move forward into a life of one’s own. For those who find their way there, it tends to open something, not only for them, but for the wider family field.