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A trauma bond is a connection that forms due to intense emotional experiences, typically with a toxic person. Similar to Stockholm Syndrome, it keeps us emotionally captive to a manipulator who holds us "hostage"—whether through physical or emotional abuse (Shahida Arabi - ThoughtCatalog).
Trauma bonding was something I didn't learn about until years later. But when I stumbled across the definition in a Twitter post, of all places, I remember sitting in silence, staring at the screen of my laptop for what felt like minutes. After that moment, a wave of emotion crashed over me. I was angry. I felt bamboozled by my own emotions. All this time, I had thought the intense feelings I had for my so-called partner were love and care. But they weren’t.
Even with the newfound anger I was sitting with, I felt a sense of relief. I had found something that made sense of what had happened to me over those years. The confusion I had felt for so long about how I could continue to care for such an abhorrent person was finally unraveling. I realized I didn’t actually care about my abuser; I was bonded to him, and my mind was psychologically addicted to that toxic cycle.
The first time I left was not easy. I didn’t understand what trauma bonding was, let alone many of the mental struggles I was going through. If I could go back in time, I would tell that girl to do everything in her power to break the bond and leave. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. It wasn’t because I was weak; the mental warfare I was fighting on a daily basis is something that can’t be explained to anyone who hasn’t lived through it
To make matters worse, within a few days of me leaving, my abuser was already trying to contact me again. He reached out with threats to kill himself, making it even harder for me to break free from the cycle. I didn’t understand then that a narcissist like him would never do that; he loved himself too much. He was doing whatever he could to get me to come back. Then, one night, he showed up at my house.
He had driven all the way from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to my house in Los Angeles, California. I'll never forget the night I heard the sound of his car's loud exhaust slowly approaching my house. My heart dropped into my stomach. I didn’t want to believe it was him, but when I checked my phone and saw the multiple missed calls from a blocked number, my fears were confirmed. That was the night that solidified my decision to leave again.
After leaving, detachment and living in reality are paramount. I won’t pretend that not dwelling on what happened between you and your abuser is easy—because it is far from it. But with dwelling on the bad comes dwelling on the "good." You begin to hold onto the good times, instead of allowing yourself to process the truth. When you leave and contact ceases, the trauma bond makes you feel as though you are coming down from a drug high. You know you don’t want to keep the cycle going, but like a drug addict, "coming down" and "getting clean" can be hard. Not only have you lost your grip on reality, but you also start to forget your own worth and value.