It is one of the most painful patterns within codependency: you know it is breaking you, but you stay. Or you leave the relationship, but before you know it, you are back in the middle of it. You promised yourself it would be the last time. And yet you go back.

Why?

Not out of weakness. Not because you are naive. And not because you are incapable of setting boundaries. But because you never learned what healthy boundaries feel like, and your body and nervous system have come to believe that this dynamic is “love”.

The pattern you repeat

Many people who get caught up in toxic relationships with narcissistic traits or emotional manipulation eventually recognise a painful pattern: you keep hoping, pleasing, explaining or adapting yourself in the hope that this time it will be different.

And every time things seem to be “good” for a few days, you feel hopeful again. A shot of relief. As if you are finally being seen.

But that relief is temporary. And what follows is the familiar push, pull, denial, or silent treatment.

Love  or trauma bonding?

What appears to the outside world as incomprehensible loyalty is an old survival strategy for your system.
Holding on to someone who rejects, ignores or manipulates you seems irrational, but it has deeper roots.

This is called trauma bonding: a confusing, intense attachment that develops when love and pain become entangled.

It’s the same dynamic you may have experienced as a child, when a parent could be both a source of safety and a source of harm.

You learned that you had to please, be quiet or care in order to receive love. That your loyalty was necessary for survival.

And that exact imprint returns in toxic adult relationships.

The partner is unpredictable – drawing you close, then pushing you away. And it triggers a deep neurobiological response that works like an addiction.

The addiction cycle of toxic Love

This is not only emotionally exhausting, it’s biologically addictive.

The alternation between love and rejection, warmth and coldness, activates an addiction loop in your nervous system.

Just like with cocaine addiction, you never know when the next reward will come and that’s exactly what makes it so addictive. You become hooked on the tension, on the hope for that one moment when you will be seen.

Your body learns, maybe if I am a little nicer. If I try a little harder.
Maybe then... I will get that little bit of recognition.

Each fleeting moment, a look, an apology, an “I miss you” – causes a dopamine spike in your brain. A rush of euphoria.

But what follows is always the crash: unpredictability, rejection, silence.

Your nervous system craves the next high, even when you know deep down it will be followed by emptiness.

At the same time, your stress system stays constantly activated, cortisol, adrenaline, hyper vigilance. You become addicted to the unrest. To the tension.

And unnoticed, your body learns that love is paying attention. Adapting. Walking on eggshells.

Not because it's nice.

But because your system thinks it's necessary for survival.

You become addicted to hope. To the thought: maybe someday it will be different. Maybe someday it will last.

This is not about personality or weakness.

It is not a lack of willpower, but a neurobiological response to insecure attachment.

A deeply ingrained cycle in your nervous system, created by old wounds.

The cycle often looks like this:

• Desire for contact → dopamine is activated

• Short peak of connection (e.g. after a “love bomb” or make-up)

• Sudden rejection, distance or silence → stress hormones such as cortisol rise

• Panic, fixation, confusion → you seek to restore the connection

• You adapt, seek contact → to ease the pain

• Temporary relief when things seem to be going well → new dopamine spike

And then it starts all over again.
This is not love. This is the cycle of an addiction to hope, to highs and lows, to the illusion of connection.

And as with any addiction, the longer you stay, the stronger the pattern becomes.

Why it's so hard to let go

Every time things seem to be going well, you feel hope. As if you are finally being seen. As if the other person has changed. But the relief is temporary.

Then comes the pushing. The pulling. The silence.

And you start searching again, pleasing, explaining, hoping to return to that moment of connection. You think you're addicted to the other person. But what you're really trying to hold on to is the illusion of love and security.

Attachment wounds and old dynamics

What makes these relationships so persistent is that they touch on something old. Something that started in your childhood.

Maybe love wasn't a given. Maybe you had to try hard, adapt, become invisible or take care of others.

Maybe there was confusion, silence or unpredictability in your home.

As a child, you learned that love feels uncertain. That you have to wait. Or please. Or endure. That your truth or feelings had no place.

And so you unconsciously repeat that dynamic in adult relationships. Not because you want to, but because it feels familiar. Because your brain and your body know it.

The Nervous System Gets Entangled

In these relationships, a deep trauma bond develops. This is a physiological entanglement of attachment and stress. You literally become addicted to the person who hurts you, because that same person also gives you brief moments of relief.
You feel alive, seen, “good enough” – just long enough to feel hope again. Until it flips again.

The withdrawal phase. Why letting go feels so painful

When you end the relationship, withdrawal begins.

Your body screams for reassurance, for contact.

Not because you truly miss the person, but because your system is desperate for regulation.

You may experience:

• Panic, anxiety, or insomnia

• Emptiness or low mood

• Physical restlessness

• Emotional numbness or disconnection

• The urge to send that one message, just to ease the pain for a moment

This is not proof that you “can’t live without them”.

It is a sign of how deeply this dynamic is ingrained in your body.
You don't miss the reality of the relationship. You miss the projection, the hope, the feeling of finally being enough.

Why you keep going back

You return because the pain of letting go feels more intense than the pain of staying.

Your brain searches for reassurance. Your body craves the familiar. Your inner world clings to hope.

You think that “just talking” or “staying friendly” will help, but unnoticed, you step back into the same cycle.

This addiction is not a character flaw. It’s the result of a deep confusion between love and survival. Of invisible wounds that once helped you survive, but now prevent you from truly living.

How to break free

The solution does not lie in analysing the other person more. It lies in coming home to yourself. In healing your nervous system, your patterns, your wounds.

Breaking this dynamic takes more than insight.

It requires:

• Nervous system regulation: learning how to calm your body without relying on the other person.

• Reprogramming: shifting from “I must earn love” to “I am worthy of love.”

• Inner child work: healing the original wound that causes you to confuse destructive love with attachment.

• Boundaries and self-respect: learning to feel what is yours and what you no longer need to carry.

• Support: you don’t have to do this alone. Especially when every part of you wants to reach back for the familiar, you need a steady hand to help you stay grounded.

You deserve more than this cycle

You are not your pain. And you are not crazy for going back.
You are human. Your system did exactly what it thought was necessary to survive.
But now it is time to really start living.

You don’t need to change them to free yourself.

You can choose. For yourself. For peace.
For love that doesn't confuse, but supports.

You are not crazy, not weak, not addicted to the other person. You are addicted to a pattern that was once your survival mechanism. But survival is not living.

You are allowed to let go.

You are allowed to learn to feel, choose and live again at your own pace, on your own terms.

Do you really want to break this dynamic?

In my 16-week recovery programme, I guide you step by step towards inner strength, autonomy, and healing at both nervous system and identity level.

View the 16-week recovery programme or book a free clarity call