The Truth About Trauma Bonds: How Understanding Your Power Changes Everything

Content Warning: This article discusses psychological abuse, trauma bonds, financial exploitation, and coercive control. It may be triggering for survivors of abuse. I write from my own lived experience, not as a mental health professional. This is my story and my perspective on healing. Each person’s journey is unique. I recommend to take whatever serves you from my writing and discard the rest.

I need to tell you why I'm writing this. Six months ago, I couldn't get out of bed. I was drowning in shame so deep I thought it would kill me. I'd been trauma bonded to my therapist, and the weight of that truth was crushing me from the inside out.

Not romantically. That's what people don't understand. When I tell them my therapist trauma bonded me, they picture some torrid affair. But it was something else entirely, something harder to explain and impossible to justify to myself. It was a psychological captivity that lasted nearly two years, cost me $126,000, and almost destroyed my sanity.

She never touched me. She never said she loved me. What she did was far more insidious: she crawled inside my head using five years of therapy sessions as her roadmap, then held me hostage with my own secrets.

I'm writing this because I spent months after escaping her control doing what you might be doing right now: beating myself up. "How could I be so stupid?" "I should have known better." "What kind of person lets their therapist extort them?" The shame was eating me alive. Some days it still tries to.

But here's what I learned in the ruins of that experience: shame keeps us silent, and silence keeps us sick. So I'm going to tell you the truth about trauma bonds that nobody wants to hear. Not to shame you, but to free you. Because understanding my part in what happened wasn't victim blaming; it was the key to ensuring it never happens again.

You're not broken. You're not stupid. You're not weak for staying in a trauma bond. You're a human being whose nervous system got hijacked by someone who weaponized intimacy against you.

But here's what changes everything: understanding that while the initial trauma wasn't your fault, you have more power in the healing than you've been told.

And I'm going to tell you something that might sting a little, because I believe in you too much to watch you stay stuck: You're stronger than you think, and it's time you started acting like it.

What A Non-Romantic Trauma Bond Actually Looks Like

When people hear "trauma bond," they picture romantic relationships. But my trauma bond with my therapist was something different, something that's harder to explain and easier to dismiss.

She became my universe, but not in a romantic way. She was my protector, my advisor, my interpreter of reality. When she said jump, I didn't ask how high; I asked what danger I was jumping away from. She'd created a world where every decision had life-destroying consequences, and only she had the map.

It looked like this:

• Texting her before making any decision, even small ones

• Believing her elaborate stories about people trying to destroy us

• Sending her money because she'd convinced me we were under attack

• Cutting off friends and family because she said they were compromised

• Living in constant fear of invisible enemies she'd invented

• Feeling grateful for her "protection" while being systematically destroyed

The mindfuck of a non-romantic trauma bond is that you can't point to sexual abuse. You can't say "they seduced me." Instead, you're left trying to explain how someone psychologically colonized you, and that sounds insane even to yourself.

"I'd lie awake at night knowing something was desperately wrong but unable to name it. How do you explain that your therapist has become your puppeteer? How do you admit you've handed over your entire life to someone who was supposed to help you heal?"

The hardest part was that I kept going back to the fact that I'd participated. I'd sent the money. I'd cut off my friends. I'd signed the contracts. The shame of my "choices" was suffocating. But here's what I didn't understand then: when someone has hijacked your nervous system, choice becomes an illusion.

My Truth Before Yours (continued)

Let me paint you the picture of how it started. I'd been seeing Emily for five years when I lost my job in April 2023. She knew everything about me: my addiction history, my childhood trauma, my deepest fears, my relationship patterns. She'd been my lifeline through sobriety. I trusted her more than I trusted myself.

When I got fired, she stepped in like a savior. Suddenly, therapy moved from her office to her home. Professional boundaries dissolved into "emergency support." Within weeks, she'd convinced me that my ex was stalking us both, that mysterious enemies were trying to destroy my career, and that only she could protect me.

"The most sinister part? She used everything I'd told her in therapy as ammunition. My fear of abandonment became her weapon. My guilt about past relapses became her leverage. My need to protect others became the trap she set."

By the time I realized what was happening, I was sending her thousands of dollars every few days, cut off from everyone I knew, and living in constant terror of threats that I now know she manufactured. I'd handed over my 401k. I'd signed contracts under duress. I was checking my phone obsessively for the next crisis she'd invent.

The shame of it nearly killed me. How could someone with a master's degree, a successful career in finance, someone who'd been in therapy for years, fall for this? How could I hand over my life savings to someone who was clearly manipulating me? How could I be so pathetically weak?

Here's what I need you to understand: I wasn't weak. I was traumatized. And there's a difference that could save your life.

My Truth Before Yours (continued)

I need to tell you something that took me months to admit: I stayed. For years, I stayed with someone who showed me exactly who they were from day one. I made excuses for behavior that I would never tolerate now. I confused intensity with intimacy, chaos with passion, and manipulation with care.

But with my therapist, it was different than romantic trauma bonds I'd experienced before. This was a mindfuck on another level. She didn't love bomb me with affection; she love bombed me with safety. She didn't promise me forever; she promised me survival. She didn't isolate me with jealousy; she isolated me with fear.

I trauma bonded myself to someone who was incapable of loving me the way I deserved to be loved, because that's not what she was pretending to offer. She was pretending to save my life. And yes, I use that language intentionally. Not because I'm blaming myself for their abuse, but because acknowledging my participation in the cycle was the only way I could break it.

"I'm not here to shame you. I'm here as someone who's been in the fog, who's felt their body betray their mind, who's gone back when everyone including my own soul was screaming at me to stay away."

I'm here because I got out, and I need you to know that you can too.

The Nervous System Truth Nobody Talks About

When we talk about trauma bonds, we skip over the most important part: your nervous system was doing exactly what it was designed to do. It was trying to keep you safe in an unsafe situation.

Your body learned that leaving felt more dangerous than staying. Every time you tried to go, your nervous system flooded you with panic, convinced that abandonment meant death. Because for our ancestors, it did. Being cast out from the tribe was a death sentence.

This isn't weakness. This is biology.

But here's where it gets complicated: trauma bonds form in the space between what happened TO you and how you learned to survive it. The abuse was never your choice. The manipulation wasn't your fault. But somewhere in that survival response, we develop patterns that keep us stuck long after the danger has passed.

It's Not Just Romance That Trauma Bonds Us

We need to stop talking about trauma bonds like they only happen in romantic relationships. They're everywhere, and until we acknowledge that, we'll keep getting trapped by them.

The friend who constantly violates your boundaries but you can't seem to cut off. You know, the one who makes everything about them, who dismisses your feelings, who only calls when they need something. But when you think about ending the friendship, you feel guilty, anxious, like you're the bad person.

The family member who has been toxic since childhood. They've never respected you, never acknowledged their harm, never changed their behavior. But every holiday, every family event, you show up and subject yourself to their treatment because "family is family."

The boss or colleague who manipulates and gaslights you. They alternate between praising your work and tearing you down, keeping you constantly off balance. You know you should leave, but you've convinced yourself you need this job, this reference, this connection.

"Trauma bonds aren't just about romance. They're about any relationship where someone has conditioned your nervous system to accept mistreatment as connection."

The mentor or spiritual leader who exploits their position. They've crossed boundaries, made you uncomfortable, used their power inappropriately. But they've also "helped" you, and you feel indebted, confused about whether your discomfort is valid.

Sound familiar? That's because trauma bonds form wherever power dynamics mix with intermittent reinforcement.

Why Your Body Betrays Your Mind

"I knew I should leave. Everyone told me to leave. I told myself to leave. But I couldn't."

Sound familiar? That's because trauma bonds don't live in your logical mind. They live in your body, in your nervous system, in the part of you that learned to equate chaos with connection.

Your nervous system got addicted to the cycle because inconsistency became your baseline for love. The highs felt like heaven because the lows were hell. Your body learned that love meant fighting for crumbs, that affection was something you had to earn through endurance.

This isn't your fault. This is what happens when someone systematically conditions your nervous system to accept the unacceptable. They didn't just manipulate your mind; they rewired your body's understanding of safety and love.

The Gap Between Knowing and Leaving

The most frustrating part of trauma bonds is the gap between knowing and doing. You KNOW they're toxic. You KNOW you deserve better. You KNOW this isn't love.

But knowing doesn't override a nervous system that's been programmed for survival in chaos.

Here's what's actually happening in that gap:

• Your body is protecting you from what it perceives as the greater threat: abandonment

• Your nervous system is choosing familiar pain over unfamiliar freedom

• Your trauma responses are overriding your logical brain

• Your body is literally addicted to the stress hormones the relationship produces

This isn't stupidity. This is trauma physiology.

"Sometimes we're getting something out of staying. Maybe it's the identity of being needed. Maybe it's the familiar feeling of chaos that lets us avoid our own stuff. Maybe it's the drama that makes us feel alive."

But can we be honest about something else happening in that gap? I'm not saying this to shame you. I'm saying it because I had to face this truth about myself: I was addicted to being needed by someone who couldn't love me properly. It made me feel special, chosen, important. Until I admitted that, I couldn't break free.

Where Choice Lives in the Chaos

Now here's the part that changes everything: while you didn't choose the trauma, you do have choice in your healing. Not the kind of choice that says "just leave" because that's like telling someone with a broken leg to "just walk it off."

The choice lives in the small moments:

• Choosing to pause before responding to their text

• Choosing to call a friend instead of checking their social media

• Choosing to feel the discomfort of not knowing what they're doing

• Choosing to breathe through the panic of potential abandonment

• Choosing to question the story you're telling yourself about why you "need" them

These micro choices rewire your nervous system one moment at a time. They teach your body that you can survive without the chaos, that peace isn't death, that real love doesn't require you to abandon yourself.

The Childhood Connection

Most trauma bonds don't start in adulthood. They start in childhood, where we first learned that love was conditional, inconsistent, or came with a price.

If chaos was your childhood normal, healthy love feels like death to your nervous system. If you had to earn affection through perfect behavior, someone giving you breadcrumbs feels familiar. If love meant walking on eggshells, stability feels suspicious.

For me, it was having parents who loved me but were drowning in their own trauma. Love came with strings, with performance, with the constant threat of withdrawal. So when I met someone who loved me the same way, it felt like home. Toxic home, but home nonetheless.

"You're not attracted to toxicity because you're broken. You're attracted to what feels familiar to a nervous system that learned love through survival."

This isn't about blaming your parents or your past. This is about understanding why your body responds the way it does, so you can start teaching it something new.

The Uncomfortable Mirror

Here's the part where I might lose some of you, but I respect you too much to sugarcoat it: sometimes we stay in trauma bonds because they serve us in some twisted way.

Maybe being with someone more broken than us makes us feel together by comparison. Maybe the drama distracts us from dealing with our own issues. Maybe being the victim gives us an identity we're not ready to give up. Maybe the chaos keeps us from facing the terrifying stillness of being alone with ourselves.

I stayed because saving him made me feel valuable. Fixing him gave me purpose. His need for me filled the void where my self worth should have been. And until I admitted that, I kept choosing broken people who needed me more than they loved me.

This isn't victim blaming. This is pattern recognition. And you can't break a pattern you refuse to see.

The Power You Actually Have

Your power doesn't live in pretending the trauma didn't affect you. It lives in understanding exactly how it affected you so you can work with your nervous system instead of against it.

Your power is in:

• Recognizing your patterns without shaming yourself for having them

• Understanding your triggers so you can prepare for them

• Learning to co regulate with safe people instead of dysregulating with unsafe ones

• Building tolerance for healthy love, even when it feels foreign

• Creating new neural pathways one small choice at a time

• Admitting what you're getting out of the dysfunction so you can find healthier ways to meet those needs

"Your power is in becoming the safe person your nervous system has been searching for all along."

Breaking Free Without Breaking Down

Leaving a trauma bond isn't just about walking away. It's about learning to stay with yourself when every cell in your body is screaming to go back. It's about building capacity for the discomfort of healing.

Start with these nervous system truths:

The withdrawal is real. Your body will go through actual withdrawal when you break a trauma bond. Prepare for it like you would any detox. It's not weakness; it's biology.

Your body will lie to you. It will tell you that you'll die without them, that the pain will never end, that going back is the only relief. This is your nervous system, not truth.

Replacement is necessary. You can't just remove a coping mechanism. You have to replace it with something healthier. Connection, movement, creativity. Find what soothes your nervous system without harming your soul.

Time distortion is normal. Minutes will feel like hours. Days will feel like years. This is trauma time, not real time. It will pass.

"The urge to check on them is not love. It's your nervous system seeking the familiar hit of cortisol and adrenaline. Name it for what it is."

The Digital Amplification

Social media has turned trauma bonding into a 24/7 addiction. You're not just trauma bonded to the person anymore; you're trauma bonded to their digital presence, to the possibility of contact, to the constant opportunity to check if they're thinking about you.

Every notification could be them. Every story could contain a hidden message. Every post becomes evidence to analyze. You're maintaining a trauma bond with someone who might not even remember your middle name.

Delete them. Block them. Remove the dealer from your contacts. Yes, it feels like death. That's withdrawal, not love.

What Healing Actually Looks Like

Healing from trauma bonds isn't about becoming someone who never would have fallen for it. It's about becoming someone who can fall and get back up. It's about building resilience, not perfection.

Real healing looks like:

• Feeling the pull to text them and choosing to text a friend instead

• Noticing red flags and actually believing them

• Sitting with discomfort instead of seeking chaos to numb it

• Choosing boring, consistent love over exciting toxicity

• Forgiving yourself for how long it took to leave

• Understanding that healing isn't linear

• Being willing to disappoint people who benefit from your trauma patterns

"Healing is teaching your nervous system that love doesn't require you to lose yourself."

The Integration of Truth and Compassion

Here's what I need you to understand: acknowledging your agency in healing doesn't mean the abuse was your fault. Understanding your patterns doesn't mean you deserved what happened. Recognizing your power doesn't diminish your pain.

You can hold two truths:

1. What happened to you was wrong, manipulative, and not your fault

2. You have power in your healing that nobody can take away

The person who hurt you is 100% responsible for their abuse. And you are 100% capable of healing from it. These aren't contradictory; they're complementary truths that give you both validation and power.

The Hard Truth About Staying Stuck

Some of you have been "healing" from the same trauma bond for years. Reading every article, joining every support group, talking about it endlessly, but never actually changing your patterns.

"At some point, staying stuck becomes a choice. At some point, talking about healing becomes a way to avoid actually doing it."

At some point, you have to decide: do you want to be right about how damaged you are, or do you want to be free?

I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm saying it because someone needed to say it to me. I spent years in therapy talking about my trauma bonds while actively maintaining them. I became an expert on narcissistic abuse while continuing to choose narcissists. I knew all the terms, all the patterns, all the psychology, but I wasn't changing my behavior.

Healing requires action, not just awareness.

Why This Matters More Than Ever

In a world of 24/7 digital access, trauma bonds are stronger and harder to break than ever. But that also means your power to heal is more important than ever.

Every time you choose your wellbeing over their chaos, you're not just healing yourself. You're modeling what healing looks like for others. You're proving that trauma bonds can be broken, that nervous systems can be rewired, that love doesn't have to hurt.

Your healing matters. Not because you're responsible for what happened, but because you're capable of what happens next.

The Path Forward

If you're reading this while still in a trauma bond, know this: your nervous system is doing its best to keep you safe with outdated information. You're not crazy for staying. You're not weak for struggling. You're a human being caught between trauma and healing.

"Every day you stay, you're choosing to. Every excuse you make, you're deciding to. Every time you go back, you're participating in your own pain. And that's not judgment; that's physics."

But also know this: You can't heal in the environment that's hurting you.

If you're reading this after leaving, know this: the work isn't done. Your nervous system is still learning that safety is safe. Be patient with yourself. Healing happens in layers, not leaps. But also be honest about whether you're actually doing the work or just talking about it.

If you're reading this and recognizing patterns, know this: awareness is the first step. You can't change what you don't acknowledge. But acknowledging patterns isn't about shame; it's about power.

Your Nervous System, Your Rules

The person who trauma bonded you taught your nervous system that love was a war zone. Your job now is to teach it that love is a safe place to rest.

This isn't about becoming invulnerable. It's about becoming someone who can be vulnerable with safe people. It's not about never trusting again. It's about learning to trust yourself first.

But let me be clear about something: this work is hard. It's uncomfortable. It requires you to face parts of yourself you've been avoiding. It asks you to give up the identity of being broken, the comfort of being a victim, the familiarity of chaos.

"You didn't choose what happened to you. But you can choose what happens next. And that choice, that beautiful, terrifying, empowering choice, is where your freedom lives."

The Final Truth

I'm writing this because I believe in your capacity to heal more than you believe in your reason to stay stuck. I'm challenging you because I see your strength, even when you can't. I'm pushing you because I know what's waiting on the other side of this pain.

Your trauma is valid. Your pain is real. Your struggles are legitimate. And also: you're more powerful than you know, more capable than you believe, and more ready than you think.

The trauma bond happened. That's history. But you? You're still writing your story.

And this time, you get to choose the ending.

Not because you're responsible for what happened. But because you're capable of what happens next.

The question isn't whether you can heal. You can. The question is: are you ready to?

"On the other side of that terror is freedom. On the other side of that withdrawal is peace. On the other side of that letting go is the love you've been searching for in all the wrong places."

Because if you are, if you're really ready, then it's time to stop talking about leaving and start planning your exit. It's time to stop analyzing their behavior and start changing yours. It's time to stop waiting for them to release you and start releasing yourself.

Your nervous system might scream. Your body might shake. Your mind might tell you you're making a mistake.

Do it anyway.

It's time. You know it's time. I know it's time.

The only question left is: what are you going to do about it?

—Cody Taymore

Kill The Silence

Free Resource

I created "The Trauma Bond Decoder" as a practical tool for those moments when your body screams to go back. It's a step-by-step guide to interrupt the urge, decode the pattern, and remember why you left.

Important

If you are currently in danger, fear violence if you leave, or are experiencing abuse, please prioritize your safety. Contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or text START to 88788. This article discusses choice and agency in healing, but your safety must come first. Sometimes the safest choice is to stay until you can leave safely with a plan and support.

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