“Trauma bond?”
“It’s an emotional attachment an individual has with their abuser. You mentioned before that your husband could be kind and loving, and he was especially that way at the beginning of your relationship. He showered you with affection.”
I nod.
“It was during those periods of kindness that you developed the bond with him. It’s only natural. It happens for most people. But then there were the moments later when he made you feel devalued, worthless, or was violent with you.” She leans back in her chair. “A trauma bond is the repeated cycle of the abuse, devaluation, and positive reinforcement. The positive reinforcement comes from those periods when your husband was kind and loving. The periods of positive reinforcement overshadowed the fear of him being abusive again.”
A breath of silence falls over us, allowing me a moment to digest everything Robyn’s telling me. When I look back to that time in my life, everything she said makes sense. I did focus too much on the good days and excused his behavior. I had truly believed he loved me and wouldn’t be mean or hit me again.
I had lied to myself so many times…until I couldn’t lie anymore.
“Women don’t ask to be in an abusive relationship,” Robyn continues, “but our bodies can end up working against us. Dopamine, which is a hormone, plays a role in addiction. It also has a similar role in trauma bonding. Abuse causes an increase in your stress hormones, such as cortisol. After the abuse, during that period of calm when your husband would be kind and loving, dopamine was released. Dopamine creates feelings of pleasure, and that helps strengthen your connection to the abuser.”
“And that’s why it’s so hard for a woman who’s in an abusive relationship to leave,” I venture.
Robyn nods. “That’s one of the reasons. In addition to dopamine, the hormone oxytocin is also released. That’s another hormone that gives you the sense of feeling good, and it can help ease fear. And this further strengthens the abuser’s connection to the woman.”
“So, we become addicted to the abuser?”
“That’s right.”
“Damn.” That explains so much. “Is that why so many women keep returning to their abusers?”
“Yes. That, and the imbalance of power the men exert on them. The woman feels like he controls her to the point where she doesn’t know how to resist or break free. She feels incomplete or lost without her abusive partner. That’s why if a woman leaves an abuser, she needs professional help to end the cycle. Otherwise, she’s more likely to return to him.”
“But in my case, I was forced to go cold turkey.” My husband’s death and my prison sentence made it impossible for me to return to him. That helped break my cycle of abuse.
Only for me to fall into a different pattern of abuse in prison.
“Yes, you were forced to go cold turkey. But that doesn’t mean, as you know, you could easily shed the impact his abuse had on you. So that brings us back to your mental well-being. How is that going?” Robyn’s eyebrows lift a small amount.
“I’m trying. But knowing that at any moment someone might figure out my identity makes it difficult to focus on my mental well-being.”
“It’s possible nothing bad will happen if your former identity is exposed, Jessica. It’s possible you’ve mentally built the problem up to something bigger than it needs to be. We won’t know for certain until the moment happens—if it happens. Have you found anything yet that will help you feel more grounded? Something that will give you a sense of purpose?”
I shake my head, wishing I had something better to report on that front. “I tried wedding photography, but it didn’t really do as much for me as I’d hoped. I enjoyed it, but it’s not something I would do on a regular basis.” I feel the same about photojournalism. It’s not the same shooting it with the iPhone. I can get the equipment I need, thanks to the restitution payment, but I haven’t gotten around to buying it. Something tells me the sense of purpose I’m searching for isn’t a career as a photographer or photojournalist.
“Don’t give up yet on figuring out what that special something is you feel passionate about,” Robyn says. “It might take time, but the outcome will be worth it for your long-term mental health.”
“Okay.”
“Are you familiar with Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs?”
I nod, slightly surprised at the question. “It’s been a while, though, since I’ve studied it.” During my freshman year psychology course.
“As you might remember, there are five basic groups. Before you can reach the higher levels of esteem, recognition, and self-actualization, you have to make sure your physiological, safety, and security needs are met first.”
That does sound familiar. The middle level is love and belonging. If I don’t feel safe, it’s hard to feel worthy of love. That rings true for my marriage. Only my physiological needs had been met. For the most part. The rest had felt a million miles from being obtainable.
Robyn leans forward an inch in her chair. “How have you ensured your physical and security needs are met?”
The physical needs in Maslow’s hierarchy include sex, but I’m not about to admit to having a healthy sex life with Troy. There are some things Robyn doesn’t need to know—especially since she went to school with the man. “Troy had the security system installed in my house last month. And Troy makes me feel safe.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. “How does he make you feel safe?”
I smile, the curve of my lips generous, and heat touches my cheeks. “Well, he’s a retired Marine who works out.” The result of his working out—the image of the hard, well-defined planes of his body—pops into my head, and the heat in my cheeks turns up a few degrees. “Who wouldn’t feel safe with him around?” Other than anyone who would try to hurt his friends and family.
Robyn chuckles, amusement sparkling in her green eyes. “I’ll give you that.” Her amusement fades and her expression turns serious. “So, you can talk to Troy in the event that anyone has an issue with your past and you don’t feel safe. What about the police?”
