The line between love and hate, passion, and pain (especially if you’ve gotten experienced trauma)
can feel as thin as a sliver. The reasons for this are complex, but what is important to know is that
when researchers put two strangers on a deadly, swinging bridge together, the strangers are
more prone to be drawn to each other than in the event that they are seated on a park bench or standing
side-by-side, within the produce aisle. What is important to know is that fear deepens human bonds
and that bonds usually are not only little oxytocin bubbles floating blissfully between caregiver and
infant. Bonds may be heavy as chains, can shackle you to a relationship whilst you hold out your
hands willingly, asking to be tethered.
Ongoing relational strife, especially when it involves repeated betrayals, fear, and trauma,
triggers our nervous systems to stay in a perpetual state of vigilance. Feelings like loneliness,
sorrow, disappointment, and even anger get shut down because history has demonstrated that
attempts at communication predictably devolve into contempt and isolation. We develop into
unplugged from ourselves, unknowingly grieving parts of us which have long since grown dormant.
Emotions that were once easily accessible get swallowed whole by one singular focus: we must
not lose the connection. Out of a fear of abandonment, we unknowingly abandon ourselves.
It Can Be Trauma Bonding and Love
Is it trauma bonding or love? Are relationships ever really that black and white-—that right or
wrong-—that good or bad? How can we reconcile that sometimes [even good] love hurts and
discern what’s healthy from what’s toxic? What can we do when faced with the very real scenario
that it is feasible to like someone you’re trauma-bonded with, and therein lies the ache?
Intimacy Versus Intensity
Love, at its best, pushes each people to grow; it’s hallmarked by mutuality. Intimacy is the
engine of this growth, which implies there may be a continuing familiarity and friendship and closeness
nurtured by the couple, who imagine that what is nice for me should be good for we and embody
their commitment no matter circumstance. Sometimes, this stance manifests in counter-
intuitive ways. In firmly but kindly holding a partner accountable. In not being reasonable when
un-reasonability is all we’re given. We should be brave with this sort of love. We should be willing
to decide on courage over comfort, improving over getting along, and running headlong into
heartbreak.
Trauma bonds feed off intensity, with one person assuming the role of victim and the opposite of
victimizer. Fear and arousal get conflated with passion and vulnerability. Commitment is usually a
moving goal, with one person leaning in and the opposite leaning out and threats of abandonment
or betrayal intermittently looming within the ethers. This intermittentness is the hook; interspersed
between episodes of contempt, withdrawal, and intense drama, there may be sweetness,
seduction, and even fun. Not so much, but enough. Enough to maintain us coming back because, at its
core, trauma bonding is an addiction. And like all addiction, we lose our ability to decide on freely
whether to stop or proceed a behavior—whether to remain or leave our partner. Trapped in a
relationship that, over time, has antagonistic consequences on our health, freedom, job, family, and
friendships, we develop into consumed, neglecting to nurture the very things that may give us
strength and empower us to make healthier selections.
There are exceptions. Sometimes, a stance of chronic ambivalence, of vacillating between leaning out and leaning in, is a ploy to avoid deeper commitment. But other times, we’re procrastinating because we’re afraid and hoping to thwart the inevitable—that moment after we face the fallout and must function securely with a partner who won’t.
Educate Yourself
The truth is that knowing methods to discern trauma-bonding from love is just not enough. Most of us
know that swinging on that perilous bridge is fraught and that the highs may be oh-so spectacular
but that the lows are slowly killing us. This is just not to date from the reality: the Harvard Study of
Adult Development, essentially the most extensive study of its kind, established a robust correlation between
high-conflict, lonely relationships, and poor health. It seems that bad relationships are worse
for you than smoking. That loneliness, particularly in proximity to an unreachable other, is a
unique form of agony devoid of the peace and solace our hearts and minds require to thrive.
Acknowledging we’re trauma-bonded with someone we love is painful: riddled with shame,
confusion, and lurking anticipatory grief that unknowingly mires us down. Healing is a protracted road.
No amount of therapy, ongoing or short-term, will help if we don’t take care of the core problem:
trauma bonding. Which, as formidable because it sounds, is doable. There are many essential
resources, classics like Betrayal Bonds by Patrick Carnes, Codependent No More by Melody
Beattie, and Daring Greatly by Brené Brown.
Shift Your Perspective
There is (slowly) learning to shift your perspective and appreciating that bonds (of every kind) are
not good or bad but inherently neutral, having evolved to serve a purpose: to determine a link and
foster connection that supports (and enhances) survival. Meaning your bonds, at their best, were
and are a physical and psychological footprint of your desire to like and be loved—to form
healthy attachments. Despite things having gone awry, nothing can change that.
Grieve
And there may be grief; as contradictory (and ugly) as it might feel, making room for any sorrow
you’ve gotten pushed away since it’s just too painful is your key out of trauma bonding because
grief is sister to acceptance, and acceptance is about coping with reality. Reality is just not the
relationship you dreamt of or longed for but the connection you’re in—trauma bonds and all.
Even if this relationship endures, it is going to change. The relationship you had, or the connection you
thought you had, or the one you had hoped for isn’t any more. And as hard as it might be to imagine,
ultimately, this might bring healthier things you may’t yet see.
We have many relationships in a single lifetime, sometimes with one person and sometimes with
multitudes. As existentially provocative as this will sound, it’s an inherently hopeful stance
abounding with grace: we will change, heal, and higher ourselves. With exertions, patience, and
proper support, we will free ourselves from trauma bonds, form secure attachments, and love
well.
