Should You Leave Your Relationship?

Even if you’re now single,
if you’ve ever been stuck in a
painful relationship dynamic,
you may be able to relate to the following.

See if this resonates:

You've done the math a thousand times.

Pros on one side.
Cons on the other.

Good days in this column.
Bad days in that one.

Yet somehow, you still can't decide.

"Should I stay or should I go?"

It's the question that keeps you up at 3am,
staring at the ceiling while your partner sleeps beside you.

The question that makes you second-guess every interaction,
every argument, every moment of connection.

The question that's slowly draining your life force.

I recently spoke with Matthew,
a successful entrepreneur and father of three
who found himself trapped in this agonizing limbo.

"I filed for divorce in December," he told me.
"But somehow I've let myself go back into thinking
maybe this could work."

On paper, he had every reason to leave.
His wife had orchestrated a psychiatric intervention behind his back,

convinced others he was mentally ill,
and treated him with daily disrespect.

I’ve known him for several years,
and it felt like pure gaslighting on her part.

I can vouch for this guy.

Yet there he was, still hoping.
Still trying.
Still second-guessing his decision.

"I freaked out when I actually thought about leaving
and being on my own," he admitted.

If you've ever found yourself stuck in this painful indecision,
you're not alone.

He had done what felt like all the counseling and therapy,
both together with his wife and on his own.

And on his blind spot session– we uncovered
what no therapist told him:

Your indecision isn't actually about the relationship.

Let me say that again in a different way.

Your inability to decide isn't about whether your partner is
"good enough" or whether your relationship has "potential."

It's about something much deeper.

In Matthew’s case, as we explored together,
the real issue wasn't his marriage at all.

It was a trauma bond.

A powerful, invisible force
that keeps you psychologically tethered to someone,
even when all logic tells you to leave.

Like a tractor beam in Star Wars, Matthew realized.
"Something holding me in this place that I don't even know
I'm not even aware of."

But trauma bonds don't appear randomly.
They're formed when your relationship dynamic
mirrors your earliest experiences of love.

For Matthew, it was watching his mother disrespect his father
day after day, while his father just "laughed it off."

"One dynamic I've learned is that I've normalized
the wife treating the husband like shit," he reflected.

Does this resonate?

Perhaps you watched one parent criticize the other relentlessly.
Maybe you learned that love means walking on eggshells.
Or you internalized that your needs don't matter
as much as keeping peace.

These early imprints become the invisible template
for your adult relationships.

They explain why you keep finding yourself
attracted to the same type of person,
having the same conflicts,
and feeling the same pain –
despite your best efforts to choose differently.

But trauma bonds are just one piece of the puzzle.

There's another powerful force keeping you stuck: fear.

Not just fear of being alone,
but something far more primal.

The fear that leaving means admitting you failed.
The fear that you'll never find someone who truly loves you.
The fear that this pain is all you deserve.

Beneath the pros and cons lists,
beneath the endless analysis,
these fears are what really drive your indecision.

And the longer you stay in limbo, the higher the cost.

Matthew described this cost with raw honesty:

"Trapped. Angry. How did I let this happen to myself?
How did I get myself here?"

The truth is, staying in decision-paralysis isn't neutral.
It's actively destructive.

Each day you remain stuck takes a toll:

• Your self-trust erodes further
• Your energy depletes
• Your confidence diminishes
• Your capacity for joy shrinks
• Your ability to discern what you truly want weakens

And perhaps most devastating of all:

Every day you spend focusing on whether to leave or stay
is a day you're not addressing the real issue –
the wounded parts of you that created this dynamic in the first place.

This is the cruel irony of relationship limbo.

You think you're being careful,
thoughtful, even noble by "trying to make it work."

But in reality, you're avoiding the deeper work.

The work of reclaiming your worth.
The work of setting elegant boundaries.
The work of healing the parts of you that normalized disrespect.

Matthew had spent tens of thousands of dollars on personal development –
Tony Robbins seminars, books, therapy.

But he realized something profound:

"Maybe in the dysfunction of my relationship,
I kept getting made to feel, or I allowed myself to feel,
that I was less than and needed to continue all this growth work."

This reveals another painful truth:

Many of us use self-improvement as a form of self-hate and self-gaslighting.

"If I just read one more book..."
"If I just try this new communication technique..."
"If I just work harder on myself..."

The underlying belief is "The problem must be me."

But what if the problem isn't you?

What if the problem is that
you've been asking the wrong question all along?

Instead of "Should I stay or should I go?"
what if the real question is:

"Why am I unable to trust myself to make this decision?"

"Why am I willing to tolerate behavior
I would never advise a loved one to accept?"

"What parts of myself have I abandoned
to keep this relationship alive?"

These are the questions that lead to true liberation –
whether you ultimately stay or go.

The answer to “stay or go” naturally emerges as a knowing.
No longer driven by fear or regret.

Because the truth most people are blind to is:

The opposite of being stuck isn't leaving.
The opposite of being stuck is  reclaiming your sovereignty.

It's remembering who you were
before you started contorting yourself
to fit someone else's expectations.

It's reconnecting with the parts of yourself
you've silenced to keep the peace.

It's rebuilding the relationship with yourself that you've neglected
while obsessing over your relationship with someone else.

When Matthew realized this, something shifted.

"I gotta break this trauma bond
if I'm going to have a chance of going forward,
no matter what, whether somehow I stay with her or get out of this thing."

That's when real transformation becomes possible.

Because once you heal the wounded parts that created the trauma bond...
Once you address the fear that's keeping you paralyzed...
Once you start building unshakable self-trust...

The decision often becomes clear.

Not because the relationship magically improves or deteriorates.

But because you're finally able to see it clearly –
without the distorting lens of your wounds,
your fears, and your outdated survival patterns.

Sometimes, this clarity leads to leaving.
Sometimes, it creates space for the relationship to transform.
But either way, you're no longer trapped.

You're no longer diminished.
You're no longer betraying yourself.

As Matthew put it, the goal is simple but profound:

"Just in a space that felt stable...
that felt emotionally like I wasn't always...
right now I still feel my system like,
I don't know what version is going to show up."

I’ve lived this experience.
So I know exactly what he’s talking about.

This is why it's so meaningful for me to guide others.

Imagine:

Waking up without that knot in your stomach.
Making decisions from clarity rather than fear.
Knowing your worth isn't negotiable.
Having the courage to let go of what isn't serving you.
Or the presence to rebuild what could be beautiful.

This is what becomes possible when you shift your focus
from the relationship to your  your relationship with yourself.

The choice to stay or go becomes secondary
to the choice to reclaim your worth.

And that's a choice you can make today,
right now, regardless of what happens with your relationship.

Your wingman on the adventure,

Nima
(I stand for healed families)