Why We Keep Falling for the Same Kind of Love
Understanding trauma bonds, emotional enmeshment, and the truth your body already knows.
Earlier this week, I released a podcast on trauma bonds—and the response made something clear: this conversation touches a deep and complicated nerve. So I wanted to take it further, in the way that writing sometimes allows us to. To slow things down. To go deeper into the patterns, the pull, and the pain.
Because this isn’t love the way love is meant to feel.
It looks like connection on the outside.
And inside, it feels unsettling.
If you've ever found yourself second-guessing your gut, explaining away the same behavior on repeat, or shrinking just to keep the peace—you're not alone. And you're not broken. You might be caught in a trauma bond.
And I know how tender that is to admit.
Because trauma bonds rarely show up as obvious red flags. They show up as someone who “just gets you.” Someone who says all the right things. Someone whose words sound like healing—and whose actions leave you hurting.
What a Trauma Bond Actually Feels Like
You feel foggy and confused after conversations where you were seeking clarity.
You walk on eggshells, afraid that anything you say might set them off—or send them spiralling.
You find yourself defending them to your friends… while secretly wondering if your friends are right.
You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, they’re just stressed, you’re just sensitive.
You replay their sweet moments like a highlight reel, convincing yourself it outweighs the rest.
It’s like emotional whiplash: tenderness followed by distance, promises followed by letdowns, presence followed by withdrawal.
And when the cycle repeats long enough, your system begins to normalize the pattern—thinking it’s just how love is.
But it isn’t.
Maya Angelou said it best:
“When someone shows you who they are, believe them. The first time.”
And if I’m honest?
If I had believed the first time—really believed—I would have saved myself (and others) a whole lot of heartache.
And I also know we don’t always see clearly the first time.
We see when we’re ready. When we’re willing. When we’re able.
Still, I think there’s room—right now, today—for less tolerance of behavior that chips away at our spirit, and more gumption to stand up when something feels like shit.
More courage to say:
“This doesn’t feel good in my body.”
“This isn’t love, it’s emotional survival.”
“This version of connection costs too much.”
When Love Feels Like Survival
We don’t talk enough about how what feels like “chemistry” might actually be our nervous system bracing for the next blow.
Because if love has always felt like a rollercoaster—if our early templates of care were inconsistent, critical, or conditional—then this up-and-down may feel like home because it’s familiar.
And familiar doesn’t necessarily mean healthy.
And that ache in your chest? That exhaustion in your bones? That gut-level unease that something is just… off ?
That’s your body waving a flag.
Not to shame you.
To protect you.
Why It’s So Hard to Let Go
One of the most heartbreaking parts of a trauma bond is that it mimics real love… with just enough inconsistency to keep you hooked.
Psychologically, trauma bonds form when your system gets stuck in a loop of pain and relief:
You’re hurt by distance, criticism, or chaos.
You’re soothed by affection, apologies, or “I’d do anything for you. I love you.”
You cling to the sweetness, hoping it’ll last this time.
And each time the cycle spins, our brain wires those two states together—believing this is how love works. That discomfort is the price we pay for closeness.
This is called intermittent reinforcement, and it’s one of the most powerful drivers of emotional addiction. It’s what casinos use—rewarding players just enough, just unpredictably enough, to keep them pulling the lever, chasing the next high. The unpredictability is the hook. And sadly, it’s the same psychological mechanism many of us mistake for intimacy: the thrill of closeness after pain, the emotional jackpot after silence, the desperate hope that maybe this time will be different.
But They Say They Love Me…
Yes. And maybe they do—in the only way they know how.
But love is not just about saying the right things.
It’s about doing them.
If you find yourself hearing:
“You’re everything to me” … right after they ignored you for days.
“I could never hurt you” … while you sit with the sting of yet another broken promise.
“I just have a hard time showing it” … every time you ask for basic consistency.
…then it’s worth remembering that real love is something we feel in our body and heart—not just something we hear in words.
If you’re curious about red flags and what they might look like, this might help:
The Words That Hook Us
Here’s the part that’s often the hardest to admit:
The words they say sound like healing.
They sound like safety, like softness, like someone finally sees you.
They echo the very things you’ve always longed to hear:
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I’ve never felt this way with anyone else.”
“I want to do better.”
And because those words hold the shape of what your heart has craved—especially if you've gone without it—you start to believe:
Maybe this is it.
Maybe they get it.
Maybe they can grow into the person they say they want to be.
But here’s the deeper truth:
We’re not just longing to hear those words.
We’re longing to feel them.
To experience them.
To live them.
Because love isn’t just spoken—it’s shown. It’s felt.
And when the words say one thing and the behaviour says another, it creates an emotional tug-of-war.
We cling to the words, hoping the actions will eventually catch up.
We tell ourselves the words must mean something. That they wouldn’t say them if they didn’t care.
But this is exactly how we get tangled:
The words become a lifeline.
They keep us emotionally invested.
They whisper of potential. Of depth. Of almost.
And so we hold on—
Not to what is, but to what might be… someday.
We believe that because they say the right things, they must know.
They must understand.
They must be capable of getting there.
They must love us.
But love isn’t a speech.
Love is a pattern.
And when that pattern is broken—when words don’t match actions—what we’re experiencing isn’t intimacy. It’s emotional inconsistency.
This is how manipulation can masquerade as love:
Through language that soothes, distracts, and convinces… while the behavior tells another story entirely.
And if that’s what you’re in—if you’ve found yourself clinging to the words while your nervous system feels like it’s on high alert—I want you to know:
That dissonance you’re feeling is real.
That ache in your gut is real.
And the longing you carry? It deserves to be met by more than just words.
The Hidden Cost of Holding On
Here’s what I’ve learned from both my own healing and from the courageous people I work with:
Staying in this kind of emotional dynamic can chip away at your sense of self.
Over time, you begin to question:
Am I asking for too much?
Maybe I am too sensitive.
What if no one else could love me the way they do?
And maybe the most dangerous one of all:
What if this is the best it gets?
Please hear me—this isn’t the best.
This is a response masquerading as love.
And while walking away may hurt, staying stuck in a cycle that slowly erodes your self-trust hurts more.
Real Love vs. Trauma Bonding: A Quick Gut Check
If you’re starting to see it... please know:
You are not dramatic.
You are not weak.
And you are not alone.
And there is another way.
Love can be soft.
Love can be calm.
Love can feel safe in your body—not just poetic in their words.
A Final Word for the Tender-Hearted
If you’re someone who believes in second chances and sees the good in people, I want you to hear this with love:
You can believe in their potential and still walk away from their pattern.
You can grieve the dream and still honour your reality.
You can want the best for them and choose better for yourself.
Because your nervous system deserves peace.
Because your heart deserves steady love—not emotional tightropes.
And because, perhaps most importantly:
You deserve to believe yourself the first time.
If you are feeling in the fog right now, consider this gentle reminder:
You are not hard to love.
You’re just learning how to stop calling emotional chaos “home.”
PS: If this resonates and you haven’t yet listened, I invite you to check out the companion podcast episode: “Is It Love or a Trauma Bond” on The Self-Love Shift. Sometimes hearing it in someone else’s voice can be the moment everything clicks.
If your heart feels heavy or you just need a space to untangle what you're feeling, I’m here. You're not alone in this. Feel free to reach out if you’d like to talk or explore how one-on-one support could help. I’d be honoured to walk alongside you.
PPS: If you’re feeling heartbroken or a little lost after a breakup, this Breakup Recovery Guide might be just what your heart needs right now. One small step at a time, you can begin to heal your heart, rebuild your confidence, and get back to you. You don’t have to rush it, and you definitely don’t have to do it alone.
