Brazil study reveals subtle ways toxic relationships erode identity
Emotional abuse is any pattern of behavior that undermines a person’s sense of self-worth and reality, according to author Beverly Engel. For one woman, the changes in a toxic relationship started small…
Emotional abuse is any pattern of behavior that undermines a person’s sense of self-worth and reality, according to author Beverly Engel. For one woman, the changes in a toxic relationship started small but grew over time, leading to a complete loss of identity.
At first, she stopped wearing outfits that others liked because her partner said they did not look good on her. She let friendships fade because it made him uncomfortable. She laughed less at things he did not find funny. She checked her own facial expressions to make sure they pleased him. She shrank in ways no one else would notice.
Then the changes became bigger. She stopped trusting her own judgment because he told her she was too sensitive. He denied things he did or said, and she began to believe his version of reality. She second-guessed every decision. She asked permission for things she used to do naturally. She edited her thoughts before speaking, trying to get them just right.
She learned to read his moods like a sailor reads the sky. A slight shift in his tone, a gesture, a certain look, or the way he set down his phone became signals she watched carefully. She became painfully tuned to his needs and expectations.
Over time, she stopped asking herself what she needed or wanted. Instead, she focused on what he wanted to hear and what would keep things calm. She replaced her own internal compass with his approval and acceptance. Everything in her life was structured around his comfort and convenience. From home projects to outings, her life became a reflection of his preferences.
Years later, she looked in the mirror and did not know who she was anymore. She could not remember the last time she did the things she loved. She was not sure what her own opinions were anymore. The person she had been before the relationship felt gone.
This is what toxic relationships do, she said. They do not just take time, energy, or peace. They take identity. Slowly and quietly, one small surrender at a time. The person who entered the relationship and the person still in it barely recognize each other.
She did not fully realize what was happening until she started doing research. She hated the word “people-pleaser” but had to look at the root of her own patterns. She had to accept that his behaviors were not isolated incidents but patterns she could not deny.
His rants and outbursts terrified her. She believed they were related to his past trauma, as he said. But because she never saw him react that way with anyone else, she began to believe something was wrong with her. She thought she was provoking him and had not found the right way to stop his mistreatment.
When she tried to speak up for herself, no matter how gently, she was met with rage. In moments she wanted to scream or run, she smiled or apologized to end the anger. She focused only on calming him, saying whatever she needed to turn his anger off.
Being told enough times that her perception was inaccurate made her stop trusting her own eyes. She said yes to things she did not have the energy for because saying no felt dangerous. She felt exhausted all the time, not just from the relationship but from the constant mental load of second-guessing every thought and decision. She became so consumed with his voice that hers went silent.
One reason people stay in such relationships is something called the sunk cost fallacy, an economic term meaning the more you invest in something, the harder it is to walk away. She had invested time, energy, love, hope, and dreams. She defended the relationship to people who loved her and made excuses for him. She stayed through things that would have ended other people’s relationships quickly.
When they broke up, he would plead for her to come back with grand gestures and promises to change. He made her feel guilty. One moment he would be sorrowful, the next angry, telling her she was another source of trauma in his life. She stayed longer, hoping it would get better if she tried harder or became smaller and quieter.
The longer she stayed, the more she lost. Not just time, but more of herself. She realized the cost of staying felt unbearable because she had already paid for it with everything she had.
For anyone recognizing their own experience and thinking they should have known better, she said that is shame talking. Trauma bonds do not exploit weaknesses. They exploit qualities like the capacity to love deeply, the ability to see potential in someone, and the willingness to believe words even when they do not match actions. These are not weaknesses, she said. They are the best parts of a person, used against them.