Your Partner’s Behavior is Trauma-Related, But It’s Still Not OK

I notice recurring patterns after reading hundreds of messages from people who follow this channel. One of the most dangerous signs that someone is losing themselves in an unhappy relationship is when they spend their letter describing their partner’s virtues and then go on to list that partner’s past, traumas, family history—only to finish by telling me how poorly they are being treated now. Trauma can explain why someone might cheat, ignore you, or mistreat you, but it does not excuse that behavior. Labeling it as “trauma” can become a convenient way to deceive yourself into thinking the poor treatment is acceptable and should be endured. My inbox today included a letter from a man who says he’s dating a woman whose wounds and trauma are damaging their relationship. He writes: Hi Genie, I’m a 33-year-old man and my girlfriend is 32. We’ve been together for a year and a month and we live together. I proposed three months ago because I truly believed everything would be fine. I’ll come back to some things I want to emphasize, but first let me tell you about us. Her name is (I’ll call her) David’s partner: she’s an architect, very bright, loves books, disciplined, has a solid job, and on many levels she’s great—although her circle of friends is quirky sometimes, which I actually like. She didn’t have a happy childhood: her father was emotionally absent and manipulative, did not care for her, while her mother was overbearing—almost a helicopter parent. Her parents separated and she cut off contact with her father. All of this is the background that follows her and seems to be the lens through which everything is explained. Reading this, I had the same reaction I often do: why does someone feel the need to comb through their partner’s past and use it to justify what’s happening now? He says she doesn’t know how to show affection or love openly, and he only realized after some time that this was a defensive pattern—if she showed emotion growing up, her father would hurt her in some way. The letter-writer says he is an artist and graphic designer, currently searching for a new job after losing the one he had a month ago. He has a loving family—his parents are still happily together, he has a brother and sister—and, like everyone, he’s had his share of issues and wounds, but he’s worked through most of them with therapy, self-reflection, and similar approaches. Their relationship began oddly. They met on Tinder (which some might frown upon, but it’s modern dating), and the first few months were wonderful: great texts, flirtatious messages, and excellent sex. She confided parts of her childhood, he met her friends, they took a short trip together—everything seemed fine. Then, around month three or four, she told him about a man she considered a father figure. That raised a red flag for him. Later he discovered there had been a sexual and emotional connection between them for a month or two when that man visited the country—this man was married with a wife and children and had cheated on his spouse with her. They stayed in contact even after she and the letter-writer were together; they’d been messaging each other over the course of five or six years on various topics. He even found screenshots of explicit messages between them while they were looking through photos on her computer. All of that made him uncomfortable—he didn’t want a third person lingering and making him feel uneasy—so he confronted her and gave her an ultimatum: it’s him or me. She chose him. From then on they argued constantly about cutting off contact. She tried to find ways to maintain the connection and justify it as friendship; he could not accept that because it violated the boundary he had set. On one occasion he saw a notification from that man on her work phone and she turned the screen away, seemingly hoping he wouldn’t notice. For context, the letter-writer had been in a seven-year relationship before that ended in infidelity, so he already carries trauma from that betrayal; being dragged into a situation like this triggered old wounds, and he recognizes that he’s re-experiencing that pain and is currently working on it in therapy. After she severed the contact, she became depressed. Sex disappeared, her mood soured, and the atmosphere in the relationship turned sour—small fights erupted every three days or so. He began to see her as somewhat selfish and emotionally closed off; his trust was diminished, and she increasingly interpreted his requests for reassurance as spying or controlling behavior, which made it hard for him to ask simple, everyday questions like “How was your day?” or “How was work?” Despite all this, he insists she’s a wonderful person overall—someone he’s always wanted. They even went to couples counseling and, according to him, the therapist agreed with roughly 90% of what he was saying. The counselor reportedly framed her childhood traumas as projecting onto him: she fears him without rational cause, and in a bizarre detail the man even felt he had to grow his hair out because she was intimidated by how he looked when he was very short-haired—she apparently associated that look with someone who would hit his wife. There were many oddities like that. She tends to avoid conflict while he prefers to sit down and talk problems through; talking triggered a few angry outbursts in her because it reminded her of her father, who would force her to listen when he talked about her mother. It’s unsettling how a whole narrative can emerge to justify the ways someone mistreats you; you can end up almost believing those explanations. They discovered she has PTSD, which can help explain why she attaches to emotionally unavailable people—like that married man—but it does not fully explain why she carried on a secret sexual relationship that undermined her current partnership. Now she’s also frightened about the future: she’s anxious that he might make a bad husband, although, rationally, she seems to believe he would be a good man. Her mother knows about their problems and has basically taken his side, which surprises him. Her friends seem to feel the same. She’s exhausted by therapy and doesn’t want to continue right now. He wants to give the relationship another chance. He says they have a lot in common and he’s never felt this way about anyone else; he just hopes things can improve and that they can break the cycle of recurring fights. He’s done what he can—consistent communication, being present, planning dates and trips, showing affection, attending therapy together and alone, and even cleaning the house to give her more personal space. He admires her and wants their trust to recover so they can love and support each other and build a brighter future—perhaps even helping her heal from or learn to manage her trauma. He apologizes if his English is poor and asks for anonymous help because she follows this channel. He wonders if she might recognize herself, though he changed everyone’s names. He calls himself David as a pseudonym. My read is that you’re not in a place to get married right now; that’s an optimistic leap. You may have the ingredients for a relationship, but the cart has been put before the horse. You live together, you proposed, and you are planning marriage, yet there are multiple aspects of your partnership that loudly indicate it’s not ready for that step. One important point in your message is that there’s a lot of insight about her and very little about you. That’s a common pattern I see in letters from people who are reluctant to leave an unsatisfying relationship: they can describe their partner in psychological terms and generate many justifications for behaviors that are neither loving nor reliable—behaviors that do not line up with what someone who truly intends to build a committed future would display.

Your situation is what it is: she’s where she is, and right now that includes a man in her life. They developed a romantic connection; he cheated on his wife, and they want to keep things as “just friends” — a claim that makes you deeply uneasy. You’ve tried to set boundaries, but she resists them. When you attempt to establish limits, the boundary effectively becomes “you leave.” You told her what made you uncomfortable and she brushed it off, so there isn’t a real limit in place — the only boundary that would exist is if you walk away, and that outcome wouldn’t please you either. It’s true people can maintain friendships with members of the opposite sex or stay in contact with exes when nothing romantic is left, and that can be harmless. But the way this relationship feels secretive, the lies, and the fact she’s keeping sexual messages all point to something hidden. She is emotionally unavailable to you, positions you as the bad guy, and leans on a trauma narrative — either she tells it to you or you tell it to yourself — as justification for her behavior. Trauma can explain why someone struggles, but it doesn’t automatically excuse their inability to show up in a relationship. Relationships are often messy; there can be exes and new attractions, but people who’ve been hurt often have trouble creating and enforcing boundaries. They also struggle to step away when something isn’t working because attachment wounds make moving on painful. You say you had a good childhood, yet you find yourself connected to someone who doesn’t treat you in the way you need. Therapists and friends have pointed out the problem, and still she doesn’t change or build trust. Trying to put yourself in her place, you explain you weren’t snooping — those screenshots appeared when she was showing you something on her computer — but she perceives that you did. Whether you spied or not, her reaction is the behavior of someone who believes they’re hiding something. Even if her relationship with that man were purely platonic, if it unsettles you and she won’t adjust her life to make room for your boundaries, that’s a real issue. You’re not unreasonable for feeling hurt. You were honest: you said it wasn’t okay. The complication is this happened only three or four months into dating, and it’s early to demand who must or must not be in someone’s life. Perhaps your comment was simply an expression of how it made you feel, and she chose to continue seeing him anyway — maybe to prove she won’t change, perhaps because it hurt her to concede. That pattern shows she may not be the person to marry. Lots of people ask whether such a relationship can survive long-term; being upset doesn’t automatically make you right, nor does it entitle you to get everything you want. Each person must decide how they truly feel about the reality of the relationship. People often cling to the hope that things will improve — “If only they would change, stop fighting every day, stop making me fear they’re cheating…” — but you’re not meant to live with constant suspicion. Feeling that way already is a significant warning sign. It’s not a moral failing that she’s in a confused place; it simply suggests she isn’t ready. You may not be ready either, and you might try to force a solution. You can convince yourself it will work, but consider stepping back, letting the facts reveal themselves, and asking whether this is really what you want. Will there ever be a day when you feel content with how things stand? One piece of advice someone once gave me and my husband before we married was to put any remaining secrets on the table — to tell each other what’s still hidden so the other has a fair chance to understand. That was among the best guidance I received: I shared a few embarrassing things I’d been holding onto, and he listened and accepted them. We’d been together for several years before we made things official, and later we sought counseling to clarify whether marriage was the right step. That openness was crucial. Trying to enter marriage without bringing everything into the light, and being afraid to voice what truly bothers you, sets a shaky foundation. Marriage is a serious project; when pressure mounts and someone is hurting, you need honesty and good faith to get through it. For all those reasons, consider pausing the wedding plans.

She is a wonderful person and there is a lot of love between you, and it’s clear you’ve done everything possible to try to improve the situation. What I want to help you accept is that, for now, it’s simply not enough. That doesn’t necessarily mean you must end the relationship, but it does mean taking talk of marriage off the table while you gain clarity. If you want a clearer sense of the red flags to watch for, a list has been compiled and turned into a free PDF you can download — just click, register, and it will be sent to you. Take your time, let the information come to light, and decide whether this is truly the life you want.