Angry at yourself for staying in an abusive relationship as long as you did? You’re not alone in that feeling – 13 Minute Read
There is so much to handle after leaving an abusive relationship. The fear, grief, and partial relief, along with the detailed logistics of physically moving yourself out of the relationship and into safety.
I suffered from a series of symptoms of trauma after I left my abusive relationship. But the one that held out the longest was the anger. I wish that anger was pointed at my abuser, and to some extent, it was. But the majority of it was squarely aimed at myself.
I was furious with myself for “letting” the relationship happen. For “letting” myself be pulled in by this horrible person. As a result, I had a lot of problems forgiving myself.
I couldn’t comprehend how I had let this happen. The voice in my head went over and over the events within the relationship. I was outraged that I’d allowed all of it to occur, that I hadn’t left earlier, that I kept believing I could control it, that I thought I could somehow make it better.
I had blindsided myself into thinking there was something that could have been fixed, when that was impossible to achieve with my abuser.
This post is for you if you’re sitting in this type of anger right now.
I hope this helps you loosen that anger’s grip on you.
Why Didn't I See What Was Happening?
How could I have missed it? Why didn’t I see the incoming of what occurred?
Simply, you missed it because it was designed to be missed.
Research on trauma bonding helps explain this. When an abuser alternates between connection and cruelty, which is also known as intermittent reinforcement, your brain responds in a way that’s like addiction.
Studies have found that the unpredictability of abuse cycles, with periods of affection and love bombing, creates a powerful psychological attachment in the victim. It wires your brain to hold on to the relationship. To believe that everything will be ok every time the affection and connection of the cycle hits. That hit of dopamine after your body has been flooded with adrenaline and cortisol (stress hormone) becomes addictive.
With a narcissistic partner, there is an added layer. Narcissists can be extraordinarily charming, especially in the beginning. They can read what you want and reflect it back to you perfectly.
By the time the manipulation begins, you’ve already built something that feels real, something you genuinely want to believe in.
Then the twists and turns in the relationship start. The brutally sudden shifts in mood change, the sudden demands, the confusing questioning, the demands for attention, no matter where you are or what time.
You were not able to explain or provide logic to them because their rules didn’t match yours. The logic of what happens, what they said, all their actions, never really made sense. To be fair, they weren’t yours to understand, because they weren’t rational. There is no framework that explains an abuser’s behaviour from the outside, because it doesn’t operate by normal rules, healthy understanding or empathy.
You missed it because it was there before you knew it, and by that stage, you were knee deep in something you were never given the chance to understand, or space to analyse. You missed it because they intentionally made sure you did.
The Cycle That Kept Pulling Me Back
There’s a reason the abuse cycle is so hard to break, and it comes back to how the brain processes hope.
Every time a cycle peaked, and things felt calm again, almost happy, even if it’s for a short time, that relief felt like proof that things were getting better. That they see they’re in the wrong this time. That you hold the power because they admit they are sorry.
This is what your brain holds onto. Believing these thoughts has nothing to do with being stupid; it’s because your brain is doing exactly what it’s designed to do. It was searching for safety and reward, even in an unsafe situation.
So, you’re angry at yourself right now because you kept going back. But logic doesn’t apply here.
You weren’t going back to abuse; you were going back to a version of your relationship you thought was completely possible because you kept seeing glimpses of it.
Surely it was real because at the peak of the connections, it was wonderful. This was your dopamine hit, and in a world of numbness, hurt or emptiness, it was the sole positive peak your feelings got.
Why Didn't I Leave Earlier?
Every single cycle in my relationship, I believed it was the last. Genuinely believed it. That somehow this time, things would be different. That I could get it right. That we would be good now. That we’d come out the other side of it and it would finally be okay. We just needed to get on the other side of this one…
It never worked that way. There was always a new twist, always something that moved the goalposts, always another problem, another thing I said or did, or didn’t do and got accused.
But that belief kept coming because the person that love bombed me was worth keeping. Because that dopamine effect was addictive. I just need to read better, guess better and do better.
This is the pattern of coercive control. The complete erosion of your sense of who you are, of your judgment, and ability to trust your own perception.
By the time leaving feels like an option, your self-esteem is nonexistent. You don’t leave because the abuse has conditioned you not to trust yourself. You believe that you’re the problem, that you’re not capable, that you’re trapped, and you can’t see a way out. You are busy surviving now.
This is a psychological response to prolonged abuse. One that has been documented extensively in trauma research. Victims of abusive relationships report a decreasing sense of self-worth and increasing shame over the course of a relationship, both of which make leaving feel increasingly hard.
You not leaving earlier is not a failure to act. It’s an override by your system. You were in survival mode.
What the Anger Was Really About
I spent a long time asking why I let this happen, and I am still unpacking the reasons to this day. The more I have dug into it, the more I have understood that the anger I directed inwards was connected to much bigger things.
I understood the logic applied to abuse cycles and why their addiction kept me ensnared. The erosion of my self-worth and its contribution to my lack of autonomy. I acknowledged these things and said out loud, I knew it wasn’t me. It wasn’t my fault for not leaving. But they weren’t the only parts of my story that had triggered the anger at myself.
I had built up years of resentment because I had no boundaries. Much of my anger was the result of resentment.
It wasn’t just in that relationship. The one that did the most damage. I had no boundaries my whole life.
My early years had taught me that you didn’t have boundaries with people you loved. It was important to avoid conflict, and it mattered what people thought of you. That I should be pleasant, presentable, pleasing and if something was wrong with someone else, it was my responsibility to fix them.
If I could understand what someone needed before they asked, how to make their life easier, and if I could make them comfortable, then this would prove my worth. Being needed gave me value.
I was a people-pleaser through and through. Not because I wanted to be, but because I’d never been shown another way.
That created a life that was perfect for people to take advantage of, and I didn’t have the resources to say no.
In the workplace, in friendships, in relationships. If someone wasn’t willing to do their part, they learned quickly that I’d carry it for them. My narcissistic partner didn’t create this pattern in me, but they exploited and cemented it. They found my internal horror beliefs in myself, and they enforced them.
Why am I telling you this? Well, because this was a big reason why I was angry at myself.
The resentment I felt was a build-up of not saying no for most of my life. For feeling the non-existent obligation to cater to others. To put my own needs last. Every. Time.
The anger I directed at myself, which became apparent after I was safe from an abusive relationship, moved from “why didn’t I leave?” to “why can’t you say no to anyone?”
Yes, I was definitely angry with myself for the abusive relationship, which I worked through. But the space I had when I was safe allowed me to have a deeper look at what else I had been ignoring in my life, and understand how I had come to accept how I had been treated.
If you have felt this way, it’s worth understanding why. Because understanding it removes its power and is the beginning of change.
Building personal boundaries are essential on the other side of an abusive relationship. It is something I continue to work on to this day. It builds your self-esteem, and it shows others your expectations on how you expect to be treated. Boundaries are the foundation of building your happiness baseline and growing resilience.
Working With the Anger
The anger you feel, whether it’s aimed at yourself or someone else, isn’t just a raging emotion. It’s information. A marker of what’s happening inside you.
I had spent so long letting other people’s opinions matter and take up space in my head. I had built walls, ignoring my own needs and wants in my own world in this vain hope that my sacrifice would be noticed by others as my worth. When everything around me collapsed, that anger turned inwards.
As I started to learn that part of my anger was letting others cross my boundaries and disregard my needs, something began to shift. I started to let go of my anger at myself, and it moved slightly to a new problem.
The more I worked on growing my boundaries and being clear about my needs, the quicker my anger flared at others. I entered the zone of reactive aggression. A place some survivors visit when they are learning to heal. When they are building their new boundaries and lack the tolerance of anyone daring to disrespect them again. Lashing out at those who, in my mind, were out to try to suppress me all over again.
When you’re tentatively building your self-confidence, it doesn’t take much to rattle you. Even those you don’t like, or those who don’t matter, can have an impact. It’s your nervous system trying to process, find its pace to recalibrate to your new normal and find peace while protecting you the way you need.
The anger isn’t something to suppress or push away. It’s something to sit with some curiosity. There is no such thing as good or bad emotions; there are simply emotions. Sure, there are plenty we don’t want and try to avoid, but weirdly, when we let them happen and let them do what they need (which is normally a message to you about what your body and brain don’t like about a situation), they will eventually pass.
Here are some ways you can sit with it.
- Name it, don’t perform it. You don’t have to rage or suppress. Simply acknowledge it. Say something like “I feel angry at myself right now”.
- Separate blame from understanding. Learning why you stayed is useful for healing. Deciding it makes you responsible for what happened to you is not.
- Start learning about your own boundaries. Not as a self-improvement project, but as a way of understanding why you found it so hard to protect yourself. How do you want to start setting your boundaries now?
- Be patient with your nervous system. It learned a particular way of surviving. It’s now trying to process everything it was impacted by. Unlearning survival mode takes time and gentleness, not punishment.
Before You Go
There is nothing wrong with feeling angry with yourself; it’s a normal reaction given the circumstances. It makes sense, it seems justified. But you can acknowledge, even if it doesn’t change your thoughts immediately, that your anger is misdirected.
You didn’t see what was happening around you because it was designed to be hidden. Abuse is entrapment. You didn’t leave earlier because you, as a person, had been worn away. You didn’t “let” anything happen because you were in the middle, trying to survive. Cycle by cycle, you did the best you could with what you had and what you knew at the time.
The anger is information. It’s pointing at years of unmet needs, absent boundaries, and a self-worth that needs rebuilding because you are amazing and deserve the space and freedom to be who you are.
The fact that you are reading this article is proof enough that you are healing, you want to understand and make changes for yourself.
If you found this article helpful and want to learn more about why you feel the way you do and follow the patterns you do, you might be interested in learning how to uncover your limiting beliefs. These are the false beliefs we often adopt as truths which govern our patterns in life. You can download the free guide here.
FAQs
Q: Why am I so angry at myself after leaving an abusive relationship?
Anger at yourself is extremely common after leaving abuse, and it usually stems from a combination of things: shattered self-esteem, the grief of what you invested in the relationship, and years of unmet needs that were ignored. It often reflects resentment that has built up over time. Understanding why you stayed and what made leaving so difficult can help you understand and ease the anger you feel.
Q: Why didn’t I see the signs of an abusive relationship earlier?
Because abusive relationships, particularly those involving narcissistic or coercively controlling partners, are designed to keep you from seeing clearly. Abusers typically use a gradual process of manipulation, intermittent warmth, and systematic erosion of your self-trust. Research shows that the cycles of abuse and affection create real psychological attachments in victims. Not seeing it clearly is a very predictable response to a very sophisticated pattern of control.
Q: How do I stop being angry at myself for staying in a bad relationship?
Start by replacing self-blame with self-understanding. Ask why you stayed, not to lay blame, but to genuinely understand the dynamics at play: trauma bonding, the cycle of hope, the erosion of self-worth, and the absence of boundaries. Journaling, therapy, and building knowledge about abuse dynamics can all help.
Sources
Stay Connected with me
Fortnightly updates with helpful posts, healing resources, and tools for growth. No spam, ever.
Sign up to Newsletter
You can unsubscribe anytime. For more details read our privacy policy.
Nadine Brown
As a survivor of emotional and physical abuse, I know firsthand how difficult the healing journey can be. I created The Resilient Blueprint as a passion project—an accessible resource hub designed to empower others on their path to recovery. My goal is to provide survivors with the knowledge, tools, and support they need to reclaim their lives.
