He Hurt Me and I Went Back for More
The trauma bond with my abuser
Love didn’t send me back to him.
Nor loyalty or loneliness.
It was fear.
I’d been with him for sixteen years. We had children. We had a business together. We were intricately woven into the fabric of our small community.
There was no me without him.
None of our friends knew us before we were a couple. For all they knew, we’d been a two without ever being a one.
When I left him the first time, it was a soft leave. I needed space to think far away from the pain he inflicted.
But I wasn’t ready to leave leave.
So, I took baby steps to allow me the time to figure out what my next adult steps might be.
With my children in tow, I moved back to my home state of Arizona and in with my mom, who did the mom things I didn’t have the strength to do. My kids began a new school year in a new place and thrived in the change of location, new friends, better weather…
And the reprieve from watching their father make their mother cry.
It was a reprieve for me as well. Not having him walk in the door at the end of the day gave my nervous system a much-needed break. I didn’t…
