If you’re coming back after the previous blog post on dating and secure attachment, welcome. That was the easy stuff. This post, where we’ll explore the impact of trauma on a relationship—and of a relationship on trauma—was much harder to write, and forced me to dive a little deeper into my own struggles and vulnerabilities. I hope it helps you make sense of some of your own experiences, allows you to feel more compassion for yourself or a partner, and leaves you with a sense of hope for the potential we hold to heal one another.
Let’s start by talking about trauma.
If we use an inclusive definition of trauma—anything that overwhelms your nervous system’s ability to cope—then it’s likely that most of us have some form of trauma (even if it’s “small-t” trauma) that is impacting how we function in the world. Interpersonal relationships can trigger any and all kinds of trauma, but romantic relationships are perfectly designed to trigger two specific types of trauma: sexual trauma and attachment trauma. And sometimes, we don’t even know we have trauma like this until it comes oozing out all over our poor, unsuspecting partner.
Let’s take a moment to define both of these types of trauma, keeping in mind that the experience of trauma is less about whether you can check the box on having endured a certain type of experience, and more about whether your Sympathetic Nervous System response to the threat was effective in escaping the threat, or whether you felt trapped and powerless.
Sexual trauma can come from a range of negative experiences like childhood sexual abuse to harassment, assault, and rape. But we can also experience trauma symptoms from unwanted sexual experiences where consent was unclear, or from forcing ourselves to have sex (or certain kinds of sex) when we didn’t want to. We can experience trauma from sexual experiences in a relationship that felt physically or emotionally unsafe. Queer folks may have layers of sexual trauma wrapped up in years of incongruence with their sexual orientation or deep shame about authentic expressions of their sexuality. Survivors of Purity Culture who’ve never experienced sexual assault can still experience symptoms of PTSD related to sexuality (see Linda Kay Klein’s book Pure for more information).
Attachment trauma is any traumatic (as in, overwhelms your nervous system) ruptures of relational safety with a significant attachment figure, that is, someone who is supposed to provide us with Safe Haven (comfort and nurture) and Secure Base (autonomy and freedom to explore). While it can take place in an adult relationship (e.g., with an emotionally abusive partner), attachment trauma is often rooted in our childhood experiences with parents and caregivers. These were people who were supposed to keep us safe, but who were sometimes sources of threat to our wellbeing. Emotional neglect, unpredictable rages, inconsistent attunement mixed with intermittent hostility or absence, substance use, adults who relied on you to meet their own emotional needs when you were just a child, separation or abandonment (which, by the way, is still relevant for adopted children raised in otherwise secure homes)—this is a non-exhaustive list of relationship dynamics that can cause attachment trauma. The devastating impact of attachment trauma is that we find it hard to trust others because our attachment system expects to be hurt just like we were in the past, and we find it hard to trust ourselves because of confusion about what was our fault and what wasn’t.
Trauma of any kind gets stored in your body, a sort of sensory-and-nervous-system snapshot of how you felt during an overwhelming or frightening moment. When something happens that reminds your body of that moment (a trauma trigger), your brain rapidly pulls up the snapshot, and starts firing responses meant to protect you from being harmed again like you were in the past. But often, those responses aren’t helpful in the present-day situation. Shutting down and dissociating may have protected you during a sexual assault, but it disconnects you from your caring partner in a moment of intimacy. Yelling and verbal aggression may have been what you needed to survive a toxic, chaotic home-life, but it may not be an effective way of navigating conflict with a kind and thoughtful partner who is capable of compromise.
Dating While in Trauma Recovery
Not everyone who has trauma is in trauma recovery. I define trauma recovery as a conscious process of becoming aware of how your trauma is impacting you and learning to a.) regulate your nervous system when you experience trauma triggers, b.) re-establish safety within yourself, and c.) make meaning of your experiences. If you are one of those brave and fierce-hearted folks who has embarked on trauma recovery, the good news is, dating will give you so many more opportunities to make progress in your recovery journey! (The bad news is, it will be brutally hard work, and you’ll probably cry. But that’s not so bad, is it?)
Romantic relationships will trigger our traumas; new relationships, in particular, can sometimes feel like a storm of endless triggers. It would take a book to discuss all the ways that relationships trigger traumas, but here are a few hot spots to keep in mind: fights and disagreements (new ones and repetitive ones); negotiating distance and closeness (e.g., how often you communicate, expectations around time together vs. time apart, physical touch, sharing feelings); sex issues (frequency, initiation, or communication, in addition to more specific triggers related to sexual trauma); relationship milestones or transitions (becoming “official,” moving in together, marriage, parenthood, empty-nesting); unmet practical or emotional needs (e.g., needing the dishes done before bed, or needing to feel heard in difficult conversations). You may also find you have specific triggers related to experiences that felt bad in the past, such as being touched in a certain way, holidays or anniversaries, certain tones of voice or gestures, etc.
So what happens when you run into a trauma trigger in a dating relationship? You or your partner might have a strong reaction that seems out of proportion to the actual event; it may feel visceral and out-of-control, or look a little crazy and irrational. Trauma responses can run the gamut: withdrawal and avoidance, emotional shutdown, physical shutdown, intense anger or fear/anxiety, numbing behaviors such as substance use, symptoms of depression, flashbacks, bad dreams, panic attacks, moodiness or emotional dysregulation, fight-or-flight symptoms, fawning responses, and more. The thing to remember, when you’re feeling bewildered by your partner or ashamed of yourself, is that these responses made sense in the past. They worked once. They kept you safe. They just don’t work anymore. But it will take time and some intentional work to settle into the safety of the present day enough for your brain and body to realize that you don’t need these responses anymore.
Until then, practice grace and patience with each other, and communicate a lot. Develop a list of coping skills that help you ground and calm yourself, and learn how to co-regulate with your partner, if your relationship is at that stage (this may be less appropriate in early dating). Get used to circling back to these tough moments when you feel centered and safe, and talking them through. You don’t need to disclose everything that happened to you to let a partner know, “Hey, yesterday when I freaked out, that wasn’t about you. I have some trauma I’m working through, and sometimes it gets a little triggered.” Check in with your partner about how the incident felt for them, and strategize about how to work through it together if or when it happens again. Dealing with trauma doesn’t have to harm a relationship; it can actually be a way of drawing closer to one another, deepening your bond (increasing your oxytocin), and building greater safety together.
Becoming a Trauma-Informed Partner
Sex therapist, author, and Instagram guru (@queersextherapy) Casey Tanner (she/they) uses the term “trauma-informed partner” in her beautiful relationship manual, Feel It All.
Trauma-informed partners are people who are actively practicing how to notice when their nervous systems get triggered and are curious with themselves about where those triggers come from. With time, they learn to recognize when oppressive ideologies [e.g., Purity Culture, patriarchy, racism, etc.] and previous trauma are at the root of relational harm or conflict. Trauma-informed partners practice staying values-centered, taking accountability, and setting boundaries. At the same time, they expect neither themselves nor their partner(s) to show up perfectly. They practice compassion with those they choose to be in relationships with. (pg. 142)
Becoming a trauma-informed partner starts with recognizing that all of us are impacted by trauma in one way or another, and that that trauma is likely to show up in a dating or romantic relationship. One of the beautiful things about Tanner’s idea of a trauma-informed partner is that it doesn’t matter what your attachment style is, what mental health diagnoses you have, whether you are divorced, inexperienced at dating, newly out as queer, monogamous or non-monogamous, young, old, or anywhere in between. No matter your history or identity, you have the ability to become a trauma-informed partner if you can learn to become aware of your own trauma and practice sensitivity to your partner’s trauma.
Dating as a trauma-informed partner means approaching issues and difficulties in the relationship with curiosity and kindness rather than judgment or reactivity. It means slowing things down and talking things out, even when it's vulnerable and uncomfortable or you don't have all the answers yet. It means posing the question, “Is this a here-and-now problem that I’m reacting to, or is this a there-and-then problem that I’m reacting to?” (It can help to ask yourself, “When have I felt like this before?” and see what comes up.) It means taking accountability for how your trauma impacts your partner, and taking responsibility for your own healing rather than expecting your partner to fix you. It means learning how to calm yourself down when you’re in fight-or-flight and how to ground yourself when you’re in shutdown (more on these states here).
And here is the most beautiful truth of all: We are designed to heal each other. No, your partner can’t fix you, and no, you can’t fix your partner—but if you work together in practicing trauma awareness and in building secure attachment through emotional attunement, co-regulation, and rupture-and-repair, you will start to heal together. Relational wounds can only heal in relational contexts; love and safety with another human being is what heals attachment trauma.
Relationships are magic. They truly are. Few other experiences in your life will have the healing potential of a romantic relationship. So take advantage of it. Let it change you. Celebrate your growth through every fight and every goodnight cuddle, every first date and every broken heart, every cheesy love song and every forehead kiss.
Conclusion: A New Approach to Dating Checklists
In my own dating life, my personal checklist does not include shared hobbies, complementary careers, certain personality types, or physical characteristics. Instead, the questions I’m seeking to answer about someone are these: Can they talk about their feelings? Are they able to attune to my emotions and express empathy? Can they initiate a repair after a rupture? Can they receive a repair when I make one? Are they aware of their trauma and how it shows up for them? Are they gentle with my trauma when it shows up in the space between us? Is the trajectory of this relationship moving toward deeper security, or getting stuck on the shoals of anxiety and/or avoidance?
Having a checklist like this often means walking away from a potential partner who has a lot of good qualities. A trauma-informed and attachment-based checklist means coping with your fear of being alone in order to hold out for a partner who can truly hold all of you. It means looking past the shiny things like how attractive someone is physically, how amazing the sex is, how much fun you have together, and how many interests you share. It’s not that those things don’t matter; it’s that they won’t matter enough when the going gets tough—and I promise you, it will get tough. While a checklist like this can save you from some heartache in the long run, I’ll be honest and say that it doesn’t make dating easy.
I would encourage you to use the content of this blog post (and the previous two posts in the series, here and here) to make your own dating checklist. This will enable you to approach dating more intentionally, and to fully engage with new people as opportunities for mutual growth, regardless of whether the relationship works out or not. If you are already in a committed relationship, use your checklist to evaluate your current relationship and identify areas where you want to grow with your partner. Couples counseling may be helpful in your process—but it’s never too late to build secure attachment or become a trauma-informed partner. And I promise you, it will change your life for the better.
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