Leaving an unhealthy partner isn’t a straight line. It’s messy. It’s exhausting. And for many, it’s a cycle.
Someone might leave, feel free, then find themselves right back in the same dynamic. People watching from the outside often don’t get it.
But if you’ve lived it, you know the pull can feel stronger than logic.
Let’s talk about what’s really going on and why breaking free isn’t always the same as staying free.
Some relationships mimic the effects of addiction. When the dynamic flips between intense affection and painful neglect, the brain gets hooked.
The kindness feels euphoric, especially after emotional chaos. Over time, even toxic partners become sources of emotional highs.
This cycle isn’t about love. It’s about relief after emotional withdrawal.
The calm after a storm feels like peace—even when it’s just a pause before the next blow. And so, the brain begins to crave that “peace,” mistaking it for safety.
Trauma bonding happens when abuse and affection are tangled. It creates confusion.
You begin to associate pain with intimacy, and chaos with connection. When someone harms you, then comforts you, it sends mixed signals to your nervous system.
That inconsistency strengthens attachment, not weakens it.
People stuck in this loop often say things like:
> “But they’re not always like that.”
> “We’ve had some good times.”
> “I just want to fix things.”
None of this means the person wants to suffer. It just means the abuse has distorted the way safety and danger are perceived.
Sometimes it’s not about feelings. It’s logistics. Finances, children, shared housing, immigration status—these things trap people in place.
A survivor might have no bank account, no stable income, or no idea where to go next. And abusers often exploit that.
They may control the money. Or threaten to take the kids. Or drag out family court matters to drain the other person emotionally and financially.
Under those pressures, staying can feel like the lesser evil—even when it’s not.
Shame is a powerful silencer. Returning to an unhealthy partner often brings on a wave of self-blame. You know the red flags.
You told your friends it was over. You might even be helping others escape their own cycles. But here you are again.
This shame pushes people to hide. And when you isolate yourself, the only voice left is theirs.
That voice says you’re weak. That you’ll never do better. That you’re the problem. And when that voice gets loud enough, you believe it.
Ending the cycle starts long before you physically leave. It begins with clarity—recognizing that your experience isn’t “normal,” even if it’s familiar.
Then, it takes planning, support, and a commitment to healing, not just escaping.
What helps:
> Build a support system that doesn’t judge repeat attempts.
> Create a safety plan with real steps (housing, documents, finances).
> Work with someone who understands abuse dynamics—like a breakup coach or McKenzie Friend with lived insight.
> Reconnect with yourself, piece by piece, so your worth no longer depends on someone else’s treatment of you.
Leaving and returning is part of the process for many. It doesn’t mean someone is broken or foolish—it means they’re human, navigating pain, fear, and attachment the best they can.
At our practice, we walk with people through every loop of the cycle. Whether it’s your first attempt or your fifth, our approach is grounded in empathy, realism, and forward motion.
If and when you’re ready, we’ll be right here—no judgment, just support.
© 2025 Rachna Tulsyan, All Rights Reserved
