Trauma bond

 From Surviving a Toxic Narcissist

Why was it so hard to break the trauma bond?

I kept asking myself that question over and over again. I had left. I had walked away. It was out. But inside, in my heart, in my mind...I wasn't.

I still missed him. His touch. His smell. That look in his eyes when he was "being nice." The moments that felt like love, even if they came after days of silence, mood swings, or him making me feel worthless.

And it confused the hell out of me.

Why would I miss someone who hurt m so deeply?

Why did I feel like I couldn't breathe without him, even though he was the reason I kept suffocating?

It took me a while to understand that this wasn't love. It was a trauma bond.

And that bond was strong. It kept me craving the tiniest bits of affection.

The bare minimum. Just enough to make me feel like maybe I mattered.

Looking back now...it breaks my heart. Because I see how little I was actually getting. And how hard I was trying to be "good enough" to deserve it.

I gave everything. My love. My energy. My time. My soul. And what did I get in return?

Moments. Tiny, rare, unpredictable moments of "love" that felt magical - because I was starving. 

Because I got used to being ignored, blamed, and manipulated. So when he gave me a crumb of warmth, I treated it like a feast.

I settled. And I didn't even realize it. That's what the trauma bond does, it keeps you hooked on potential.

On "what if." On "maybe it will be good again."

And it's not your fault if you've been there. I've been there. I know the crying in the middle of the night. The shaking. The guilt. The mourning of someone who isn't even really loving you...but felt like home anyway.

And what helped me break it?

It wasn't therapy (I tried, it didn't help me the way I hoped.)

It wasn't time.

It wasn't even knowledge.

It was me.

Slowly, painfully...choosing to love myself more than I loved the illusion.

I started to learn what love actually looks like. And no, not from a man. From me.

I had to teach myself how to be kind to my body. How to talk to myself like I mattered. How to sit with the pain instead of begging someone else to fix it. And I won't lie...those first steps were the hardest.

Because when you feel unworthy, broken, unlovable...How do you even begin to love yourself?

But that's the work. That's where it starts. And once I found that love within me...everything changed.

I saw my ex-husband clearly. I saw how small the love was. How conditional. How cold. And I no longer wanted to go back. Because I finally had something better.

Me.

Now?

I'm in a relationship that feels safe. That holds me. That doesn't punish me for being human. I'm loved even when I'm not perfect. Even when I'm sad. Even when I don't have the energy to smile.

But I wouldn't have recognized this love if I didn't find it first in myself.

So if you're still holding on...Still mourning those rare, magical moments...

Still hoping he changes or that somehow,

someday, it could work...

Please hear me when I say: You weren't loved properly. And you deserve so much more.

With love,

Mili