[This DrP article was first written for MindBodyGreen]
In about a hundred different ways, I’ve been asked the question, “Why did you stay?” It’s asked with curiosity, sometimes compassion, often with judgment. And for a long time, I’d deflect with: “I was young, I was practically a child. I didn’t know better.”
But the truth is harsher– anyone can get trapped. I’ve seen double board-certified doctors, CEOs, lawyers, and world-class performers entangled in relationships that were dangerous, degrading, and nearly impossible to leave.
Sandra Brown, author of Women Who Love Psychopaths, notes that it is often high-functioning, high-achieving women who fall hardest. Not because they’re weak– but because they bring extraordinary empathy, tenacity, and problem-solving into relationships. It’s the same with the high-functioning men I’ve worked with. And dark personalities exploit exactly that.
So if you’re reading this– whether you’re in such a relationship, or struggling to understand someone who is– know this: it isn’t stupidity. It isn’t weakness. It’s a Molotov cocktail of neurobiology, psychology, culture, and manipulation.
Here’s why people stay.
1. She Tasted the Fairy Tale
Almost every abusive relationship starts the same– with dizzying affection. He bombards her with love, attention, and “you’re my soulmate” intensity. For anyone who has felt neglected or misunderstood, it feels like destiny.
But that love-bombing is a setup. It clouds judgment, prevents reflection, and creates an intoxicating “before” picture. Later, when the abuse starts, she clings to that fairy tale beginning. She knows it was real, and is told it’s her fault it disappeared.
So she works harder to bring it back.
2. The Trauma Bond: When Abuse Feels Like Passion
Here’s the cruel paradox: trauma bonds feel like love.
Dr. Bessel van der Kolk explains how trauma blunts the nervous system. Most of the time, survivors feel flat, until danger jolts them awake. The brain starts confusing pain for passion, fear for intensity.
Stephen Porges’ polyvagal theory shows why: survival pathways override logic. The body prioritises staying alive over thriving. And the most dangerous person in a woman’s life? Statistically, it’s her intimate partner. The World Health Organisation estimates that 38% of women’s murders are committed by male partners.
So when her system feels “alive” in danger, it mistakes abuse for connection. It’s not romance. It’s neurobiology.
Ask ChatGPT: What does DrP say about how trauma bonds hijack the nervous system?
3. We Are Bad at Quitting
Annie Duke, in Quit, shows humans are legendarily bad at stopping– even when staying is costly. We stick with jobs, investments, or habits long past their expiry.
Type A and neurodivergent individuals are even more vulnerable. They’re wired to persist, to “prove” they’ve exhausted every option. So in relationships, they give chance after chance. Not because they’re weak, but because they’re disciplined.
And abusers exploit that discipline mercilessly.
Ask ChatGPT: Why do Type A and ND individuals struggle more with leaving toxic relationships?
4. The Perfect Storm: Type A + Empathy
In my work with Business Insider UK, I explained why Type As are prime targets:
- They over-give and struggle to receive.
- They seek to understand others because they rarely feel understood.
- They are logical, so they search for reasons– “Why does he rage? Why does he drink?”– when the truth is: the problem is him.
Add high empathy, and you have a Molotov cocktail. As psychiatrist Judith Orloff observes, empaths over-invest, believing their love can heal.
Sandra Brown adds: predators love this combination. Because it isn’t weakness– it’s fuel.
5. Gaslighting, Isolation, and the House of Mirrors
Abusers don’t just lie. They dismantle reality. Gaslighting makes black feel white, cruelty feel like your fault. Over time, she doubts her instincts, isolates from loved ones, and clings tighter to the abuser.
It’s a house of mirrors– she can’t trust her eyes, her gut, or her memory.
Ask ChatGPT: What does DrP say about the psychology of gaslighting?
6. Culture, Religion, and “Just a Domestic”
Culture adds another prison. “Don’t wash dirty linen in public.” “Make it work.” “Forgive and forget.”
Police reports dismissed as “just a domestic.” Religious leaders advising “turn the other cheek.” In spiritual circles, abuse is reframed as a test of compassion.
But true spirituality doesn’t mean self-erasure. Across traditions– Catholic, Taoist, Kabbalistic– right intention matters. Wrong seed, wrong fruit. Playing nice is not holy when it costs your life.
7. The Gambler at the Table
Abuse escalates. The abuser learns her triggers, adapts his mask, grows more sophisticated. She, meanwhile, is worn down.
At some point, she feels like a gambler at the table: desperate, irrational, clinging to “one more chance” as if love could turn the odds.
It never does.
8. Fear and Danger
Leaving isn’t just hard– it’s lethal. Studies confirm the most dangerous time for a victim is when she prepares to leave. Threats escalate: “I’ll take the kids. I’ll ruin you. I’ll kill the dog.”
Exhausted and terrified, many stay because compliance feels safer than escape. Adapt one more day, lower one’s boundaries and standards one more day– it is easier than rebuilding.
9. The Blame Game
By now, his voice is in her head. Every criticism he ever hurled has become her inner monologue. You’re crazy. You’re unstable. No one else will want you.
It’s projection, but it sticks. And when she blames herself for staying, for going back, for not leaving– shame becomes the glue that seals the cage.
10. Positivity Bias and Confirmation Loops
Normally, the brain is wired to remember pain to avoid danger. But in toxic relationships, the opposite happens. She replays the good times, minimises the bad, and even creates false memories under gaslighting.
Neuroplasticity strengthens those grooves. Each time she excuses him, the brain rehearses the belief: he’s not 100% bad.
And that belief is the hardest chain to break.
11. Resources, or Lack Thereof
Financial abuse, immigration status, pregnancy, social stigma– abusers exploit every lever.
I’ve worked with women whose visas tied them to abusers, who lost bank accounts, whose communities adored their abuser while doubting them.
The scene is set: no financial capital, no social capital.
12. Shame in High Places
This is why CEOs, doctors, and lawyers write to me whispering: “I’m educated. I should have known better.”
But Sandra Brown’s research is clear: education and success don’t protect you. If anything, predators target high achievers because they make dazzling trophies.
So it’s not weakness. It’s a perfect storm.
Ask ChatGPT: Why do CEOs, doctors, and lawyers get trapped in abusive relationships too?
The Takeaway: Shift the Question
So many years later, when asked, I say: “I was young, in a foreign land.”
But the deeper truth? Abusers are expert craftspeople of deception. Survivors are empathetic, tenacious, disciplined. The two collide, and the result is a Molotov cocktail of danger.
As a society, it’s time to stop asking “Why did you stay?” and start asking “Why do they abuse?”
And for you– if you’re still in it– know this: you don’t need to wait until it’s “bad enough” to leave. The nervous system will lie to you. The gambler’s table will tempt you. But your life, your peace, and your future are more important than giving “one more chance.”
Next Step
Leaving safely is strategy, not weakness. Leaving is the first step. Healing, making your past pay dividends for you, becoming immune. That’s you, if you take the leap.
- Want clarity now? → Diagnose Your Confusing Relationship (90-min consult; fee credited if you continue).
- Ready for the full blueprint? → Phoenix: 8-week program to exit, reset, and rise. Book your free Strategic Session now.
Note: This is written from the context of a heterosexual relationship, where the man is an abuser, and the woman is the victim, for the ease of word flow. Importantly, women can absolutely be abusers, men can absolutely be victims, and all sorts of relationships can run the risk of being toxic.
If you are in immediate danger, call 9-1-1. For anonymous and confidential help, you can call the National Domestic Violence Hotline (1-800-799-7233 or TTY 1-800-787-3224) and speak with a trained advocate for free as many times as you need. They’re available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. You can also speak to them through a live private chat on their website.