You Are Not Weak-You Were Wired to Stay

There is a question almost every survivor of abuse asks at some point: “Why didn't I leave sooner?” And beneath that question sits an even heavier one: “What's wrong with me?”

I want to tell you something very clearly: there is nothing wrong with you. You didn't stay because you were weak. You didn't stay because you lacked intelligence, strength, or self-respect. You stayed because your nervous system was doing exactly what it was instructed to do - Attach where it felt familiar. Familiar is the keyword. Sometimes familiarity feels like love when you've never known safe love before.

If chaos was the rhythm of childhood, then silence feels threatening. If approval was rare growing up, then breadcrumbs of praise felt like a feast. A simple thank you could be a feast for the emotionally starved. If love was conditional, unpredictable, or dependent on your performance or behavior then intense relationships can feel like home. Notice the opposition. Almost like oil and water that does not mix.

Trauma bonds aren't about logic. They are about survival. Your body was trying to keep you connected to what felt familiar, not necessarily what was healthy or safe. And here's the part no one tells you: Leaving is not the end. Sometimes staying gone from the danger is the hardest chapter. Because when the danger is gone, your nervous system still expects the same pattern, the same intensity. It still reaches for what used to soothe you even if that’s what also hurts you. That isn't weakness. That is nervous system wiring. It’s an addiction.

But your wiring can change. Slowly. Steadily. Kindly. Every time you choose peace over chaos, you are rewiring. Every time you pause instead of going back to what broke you, you are healing. Every time you learn that love doesn't have to hurt, you are becoming someone new. And one day - it may be quiet when it happens - you realize you're not fighting to stay away anymore. You're simply choosing who you are now. If no one has told you yet today: I'm proud of you. You are healing. You are rebuilding. And you're allowed to take your time.

You were wired to stay where it felt familiar, but you are learning to leave. You are retraining your nervous system for safety. And that is strength. And maybe the hardest part of beginning to heal is realizing that healing isn't a single moment where everything suddenly makes sense. It's a slow unfolding. A remembering. A coming home to yourself after years of abandoning your needs just to keep someone else comfortable.

Some days you'll feel strong and certain, other days you'll wonder if you imagine the hurt or if going back would be easier than sitting with the ache of what you lost. But that's the nervous system learning something new. Because real healing isn't about never thinking of them again. It's about being able to think of them without losing yourself. It’s choosing peace over chaos, truth over fantasy, and your future over your familiar past. If you're somewhere in that middle space, the space between who you were and who you're becoming, take a breath.

You're not failing. You're transitioning. And transitions feel shaky because you're walking out of your old identity and into a life built on self-worth, boundaries, and honesty. One day, sooner than you think, you'll look back and realize: it wasn't that you stopped loving them - it's that you finally started loving yourself more. If this is where you are right now stay with yourself. You're doing the brave work. And you're not alone.

Until we blog again

~Lena~