How I Broke My Trauma Bond: A Step-by-Step Journey
Hey everyone, welcome to the blog!
If you’re new here, I’m Beany, and I create content for survivors of narcissistic and domestic abuse. I speak from lived experience, and today’s is a personal one.
I’m going to walk you through exactly how I broke my trauma bond—step by step, after spending a decade in a relationship with a man who was dangerous, manipulative, and abusive.
And no…breaking the trauma bond wasn’t a moment. It was a process. If you’re still in it or just trying to break free, know that you’re not crazy, you’re not weak, and you’re not alone.
My Background
Let’s start with some context.
I was in a relationship for ten years with a man who, from the outside, seemed charming and charismatic. But behind closed doors, he was controlling, volatile, emotionally abusive and physically dangerous.
He isolated me.
He convinced me I couldn’t survive without him.
Over time, he didn’t need to keep me in the relationship…I was keeping myself there through trauma bonding.
What’s trauma bonding? It’s a deep emotional attachment to someone who abuses you, built on cycles of abuse, intermittent rewards, and emotional manipulation. The highs are euphoric, and the lows are soul-crushing. That rollercoaster is what keeps you hooked.
I didn’t even realize I was trauma bonded until I tried to leave and kept going back. But eventually, I broke it. Here’s how.
Step 1: Physical Distance
This was the hardest part at first. For so long, I equated “proximity” with “safety.” I thought being near him would help me manage his moods and prevent explosions.
But staying physically close to your abuser, even just to “keep the peace”, keeps the trauma bond alive.
So I took a terrifying first step: I got out. It wasn’t dramatic; it was quiet, small, and shaky. But it was mine.
Whether you move out, stay with a friend, or just begin to imagine your life beyond their reach…physical space is the beginning of emotional clarity. Distance gives you something they’ve stolen: perspective.
Step 2: No Contact
Once I created physical distance, I went no contact. That meant:
Blocking his number
Deleting social media connections
Ignoring flying monkeys
Refusing to engage—even when he baited me
This is where most trauma bonds scream the loudest. You’ll feel withdrawal, crave contact, and experience guilt and anxiety.
But staying no contact allowed my nervous system to stabilize. It helped my brain stop reaching for the dopamine hit I was used to getting from his breadcrumbs of affection.
No contact is hard…but it’s sacred. It’s not about punishing them, it’s about protecting you.
Step 3: A “Me”-Centered Routine
Once the noise stopped, I was left with silence and it was deafening. But I used that silence to start choosing myself, one small habit at a time:
I created a morning routine that didn’t revolve around surviving someone else’s mood.
I ate meals that made me feel good.
I moved my body, even if it was just a walk.
I journaled, cried, prayed, and wrote letters I’d never send.
This wasn’t about self-care bubbles and bath bombs. It was about rebuilding my identity outside of abuse. The more I centered my day around me, the more I realized how much of my life had never actually been mine.
Step 4: Crafting Strategies for Triggers
Breaking a trauma bond doesn’t mean you stop hurting. It means you learn how to support yourself when you hurt.
There were days I’d smell his cologne on someone else and spiral. Or I’d hear a song that brought back a moment of fake intimacy and feel myself craving him.
But I didn’t shame myself for being triggered. Instead, I built strategies:
Breathwork when panic hit
Grounding exercises when I dissociated
Mantras like: “Missing him doesn’t mean I made a mistake. It means I’m healing.”
I started responding instead of reacting… and that was everything.
Step 5: The Right Support System
This part took time and trust. I didn’t have a huge community cheering me on, but I found one or two safe people who didn’t judge me for missing him, who didn’t rush my healing, and who reminded me of my strength when I forgot.
I also sought professional help: coaches, therapists, survivor support groups…people who understood trauma. You don’t need a crowd. You need consistency. You need people who see you as whole—even when you feel broken.
Breaking the trauma bond wasn’t about waking up one day and saying “I’m done.” It was a thousand tiny choices. It was shaking hands with grief. It was learning that love doesn’t hurt like that.
And most of all, it was remembering who I was before the abuse… and choosing to become even more than her.
So if you’re watching this, and you’re still in it, or you’ve just left…this is your reminder:
You are healing. And healing doesn’t mean you never look back, it means you choose not to go back.
If this spoke to you, let me know in the comments: Which step are you working on right now?
And if you want more survivor-centered content, don’t forget to subscribe and share this with someone who needs it.
I’m rooting for you!
Beany
