Last week, I came across an insightful Facebook post by Kristen Leigh Mitchell that has stayed with me.
She was reflecting on the Truth Social post in which the President threatened that “an whole civilization will die tonight,” with a deadline attached. That was then followed by the sudden relief of a ceasefire. Many of us felt that in our bodies. I certainly did. But what struck me most was the pattern she named in response to it.
She wrote, “The clinical term is trauma bonding.” And later, “The whole purpose of the method is to rewire your nervous system around fear, and then relief from fear.”
I have been thinking about that.
We often talk about trauma bonds in the context of romantic relationships — cycles where harm, fear, and instability are followed by moments of relief or reassurance. One of the dynamics at play in those cycles is something called intermittent reinforcement, which can create trauma bonds.
What that means, in simple terms, is that after harm has been happening for a period of time, there are moments — not consistently, but every once in a while — when there is a sudden sense of reassurance, support, or even care. Sometimes it can feel like a return to how things were at the very beginning, when everything felt good and connected. That relief can feel immense.
And that unpredictability matters.
Because over time, this process can actually wire our attachment more deeply. We begin to orient ourselves around those moments of relief. The nervous system starts to anticipate them, to long for them. And in a way, we can become attached not just to the person, but to the cycle itself — even if the same person who brings the relief is also the one who caused the harm. This can even become addictive, and every part of this dynamic makes it difficult to leave. Not impossible, but difficult.
Is this one of the reasons that the President has been able to say, “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any votes, OK?” Perhaps some of these supporters are, in some ways, truly trauma bonded.
We are vulnerable to trauma bonds because they can show up in many places. We can experience them in romantic partnerships, families, workplaces, religious communities, and perhaps even in the broader systems of power at work right now. And sometimes, they can help explain why people remain deeply aligned with leaders or systems, even when their words or policies are causing harm — even to those same people. The pattern can be powerful enough to keep someone oriented toward the moments of relief, even when the larger cycle is costly.
Trauma bonds are not always easy to see from the inside.
I noticed something in myself this week. A kind of activation I have not felt in a while — the urge to check, to monitor, to brace for what might happen next. And then, when things softened even slightly, a release.
I am not a supporter, but I felt that cycle, too.
I came across a couple short videos from Thais Gibson that put language to this in a really accessible way — what trauma bonding is, and how it can show up across different kinds of relationships. I found them helpful in naming something that can otherwise feel hard to articulate.
What are the symptoms of trauma bonds?
If any of this feels familiar in any context — our nation, a community, or a specific dynamic — I think the invitation is not shame or judgment. It is noticing.
And perhaps, gently, the possibility of offering ourselves and our communities a different kind of care.
—Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 