How Stigma Keeps Us Quiet and What Healing Sounds Like
Photo by Hoi An Photographer
It rarely feels like a straight line. One day you may feel deeply connected to your partner, remembering the laughter and intimacy that drew you together. The next day, you may feel small, dismissed, or criticized in ways that sting long after the words are spoken. That back-and-forth—care and cruelty, closeness and distance—can leave you questioning: Is this a hard season we can work through, or is this something deeper that keeps repeating?
Every relationship has conflict. Arguments, disappointments, and missteps are part of living close to another person. But patterns matter more than isolated moments. Do apologies lead to lasting change, or do they simply reset the cycle until the next hurt? Do you feel like you can bring up your needs without fear, or do you find yourself rehearsing every word before speaking? Do moments of love feel grounding, or do they arrive like brief respites after long stretches of tension? These questions aren’t about perfection. They’re about whether the relationship, in its whole shape, is nourishing or corrosive.
One of the reasons it’s so difficult to untangle this is what psychologists call the betrayal bond. It happens when the same person who brings harm is also the person who provides comfort. Love and fear get tied together in a way that can feel impossible to separate. You may hold on tightly to the good moments, replaying them in your mind, using them as proof that “it’s not all bad.” You may convince yourself that if you just love better, communicate better, sacrifice more, the good will finally outweigh the harm. This bond is powerful because it hooks into hope. And hope is hard to abandon, especially when it’s tied to someone you once trusted with your whole heart.
Photo by Gladin Joseph
The betrayal bond can also create confusion about what’s real. If your partner alternates between tenderness and dismissal, generosity and cruelty, you may begin to question your own perceptions. This is where self-doubt grows: Maybe I overreacted. Maybe I’m being too sensitive. Maybe it really is my fault. These thoughts aren’t weakness—they are evidence of how strong the bond has become. Breaking it is not just about walking away; it’s about reclaiming your sense of what’s true.
For couples who want to understand whether a relationship can heal, it may help to ask: Is there genuine accountability, or only apology? When I share my hurt, does my partner really hear me—or do they minimize, deflect, or turn the story back on me? Do I feel safer over time, or am I learning to live with fear? For individuals, the questions can be even more personal: Am I holding on to the actual person in front of me, or to the memory of who they were at the beginning? Am I staying because I believe in our growth, or because I’m afraid of starting over? Do I believe I deserve love that does not diminish me?
Sometimes the answers to these questions point to repair. Couples therapy can be worthwhile if both partners are willing to examine the cycle, name the harm, and actively build new ways of relating. That work requires not just promises but practice: changing the tone of communication, learning to disagree without degradation, creating safety where fear once lived. For other couples, individual therapy alongside—or even before—joint work is critical. Each person may need to understand their own triggers, histories, and responsibilities before repair can take root.
Photo by: Anthony Shkraba Studio
But sometimes, asking these questions reveals that repair is not possible. If accountability is one-sided, if the cycle of harm repeats without change, if safety never truly arrives, then the question shifts. It becomes less about how to fix the relationship and more about how to protect yourself, your spirit, and sometimes even your physical safety.
Leaving is not easy. Staying is not simple. Finances, children, cultural expectations, and fear of judgment all weigh heavily. And stigma often makes it worse. People still ask survivors, Why didn’t you leave sooner? Why did you stay at all? Those questions miss the point. They ignore the complexity of betrayal bonds, the courage it takes to imagine change, and the risks involved in letting go. Stigma isolates, when what survivors most need is understanding.
There isn’t a single roadmap for knowing when to hold on and when to walk away. What can help is listening to your own body and spirit. Do you feel yourself becoming more of who you are, or less? Are you growing, or are you shrinking? Is the relationship building your capacity to love and be loved, or is it teaching you to doubt your worth? These questions may not give immediate answers, but they can guide you toward clarity.
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. It is a reminder that these struggles are not rare, and that millions of people live with the weight of betrayal bonds and toxic cycles. If you find yourself in this place of not knowing, that uncertainty itself is worth paying attention to. You do not have to answer every question today. What matters most is that your dignity, safety, and voice remain intact. Whether through support from friends, community, or therapy, you deserve spaces where you can process what is happening in your relationship. Trust that you got you.
Tanisha Christie, LCSW (she/her) is the Founder and Practice Director who champions the liberation of individuals through the acknowledgement and affirmation of their stories. With a collaborative, holistic, and directive approach, Tanisha guides clients toward healing. Her extensive experience includes roles at Mount Sinai Hospital, the Ackerman Institute for the family and private practices, offering specialized expertise in polyamorous and couple relationships, executive coaching, and clinical supervision.