Why Do I Miss Someone Who Hurt Me?
Why do I miss someone who hurt me? Maybe you know exactly what they did. You can list it out loud, you can tell a friend the whole story, and you can even see why leaving was the right call. And still, some nights you'd give anything to hear their voice or have a normal Tuesday with them. Then comes the shame. What is wrong with me?
Here's the short answer. Nothing is wrong with you. Missing someone who hurt you is one of the most common, most human things I see, and it usually isn't about being weak or naive. It's about how attachment, hope, and your nervous system work, especially when the relationship was a mix of pain and closeness. You can miss them and still know you deserved better. Both are true.
Missing Them Doesn't Mean It Was Good
Let's pull apart two things that get tangled together. Missing someone is a feeling. It's not a verdict on the relationship. You can miss the person, the routines, the version of the future you were building, and the way they were on their good days, and none of that cancels out what happened on the bad ones.
A lot of people tell me they feel crazy for missing someone who treated them badly, as if the longing proves it wasn't that bad. It doesn't. Your heart attached to a person. It doesn't automatically know when to detach, and it certainly doesn't care that your head has already made the decision.
What a Trauma Bond Actually Is
The term "trauma bond" describes a strong emotional attachment that forms in a relationship that goes back and forth between hurt and comfort, or fear and relief. Researchers like Donald Dutton and Susan Painter wrote about this in the early 1990s, looking at why people stay attached to partners who mistreat them. You'll also hear it called a betrayal bond. It's not an official diagnosis, but it's a useful way of describing a real pattern.
Here's the part that surprises people. The bond often isn't built despite the painful moments, but partly because of the cycle. A tense stretch, then a sweet apology. A cold shoulder, then sudden warmth. A fight, then a flood of closeness. Your brain learns that relief comes after pain, and that relief can feel intense enough to feel like love.
Why the Pull Is So Strong
Part of what makes this hard is something psychologists call intermittent reinforcement. When rewards show up unpredictably, instead of reliably, the pull toward them gets stronger, not weaker. It's the same reason a slot machine is hard to walk away from. You don't know when the good version of them will appear, so you stay alert and keep hoping.
Your body gets pulled into this too. Stress and relief cycles can leave your system chasing the calm that comes after the storm. When the relationship ends, that cycle stops, and your body can feel it like withdrawal. Restless, anxious, and sure that a message from them would fix everything. A text might calm you for an hour, and then you're right back where you started.
If you grew up in a home where love came with unpredictability or criticism, your system may have learned long ago that closeness and pain go together. That doesn't make you broken. It means a relationship with that rhythm may have felt strangely familiar, and familiar can feel like home even when it isn't safe.
What You Might Actually Be Missing
When someone says "I miss them," there's usually more than one thing underneath. It can help to get specific:
The good moments. The laughter, the inside jokes, the way they could make you feel chosen. Those were real, even if they weren't the whole story.
The person you hoped they'd become. Often we grieve potential. We miss the version of them we kept waiting for.
The version of yourself you were with them. Sometimes you miss who you thought you'd be in that future.
The routine and the closeness. Someone to text good morning, someone who knew your day. Loneliness can feel a lot like missing them.
The relief after the storm. The calm that came when things finally eased, which your body may be craving.
The chance to be proven right, or finally heard. Wanting an apology that never came is its own kind of ache.
Naming which of these is loudest right now often takes some of the power out of the longing. You may realize you don't miss them as much as you miss feeling loved, and that's something you can learn to build in safer ways.
Grief Without Closure Is Still Grief
One reason this is so heavy is that the grief doesn't have a clear shape. There's no funeral, and people around you may say "good riddance" while you're quietly falling apart. You might feel anger and sadness in the same breath, relief and longing in the same hour.
That mix isn't a sign you're doing it wrong. It's what grieving a complicated relationship looks like. You're allowed to be sad about losing someone who also hurt you. Being sad doesn't mean you have to go back, and it doesn't erase your reasons for leaving.
If You're Still Not Safe
I want to pause here, because it matters. If the person who hurt you is still in your life, or if you're afraid of them, your safety comes first. Please reach out to the National Domestic Violence Hotline in the U.S., where you can chat or call confidentially to talk through your options. You don't need to be sure it's "bad enough." If something feels unsafe, that's enough of a reason to ask for support.
A Few Things That Can Help While the Pull Is Strong
None of these are a quick fix, and you don't have to do them perfectly. They're just ways of caring for yourself while you work through it:
Write down the full picture, the good and the painful, so your mind doesn't edit out the hard parts when you're lonely
Notice the moment you feel the urge to reach out, and give it ten minutes before you decide anything
Tell one safe person what you're feeling, even if it feels embarrassing
Get your body moving or let yourself rest, since the longing often lives in your nervous system, not just your thoughts
Remind yourself that missing someone and wanting them back are not the same thing
If this pattern shows up again and again in your relationships, you may also like what I wrote about healing toxic relationship cycles, and about why some people push away the people who are good for them. Often it's the same wiring showing up in different ways.
How EMDR Can Support This
Talking it through helps, but if you understand all of this and still feel the pull, it's often because the attachment lives in your body and in older memories, not just your thinking. That's where EMDR can come in. EMDR, which stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, is a structured therapy that helps your brain reprocess distressing experiences so they stop feeling so current. The EMDR International Association describes it as moving through eight phases, from history-taking and preparation to reprocessing and closure.
I want to be honest about the evidence. EMDR has its strongest research for PTSD, and there isn't research specifically on trauma bonds. What I can tell you is that these bonds are often tangled up with earlier experiences, like unpredictable caregiving, past betrayals, or the painful moments in the relationship itself. Working on those memories can loosen the grip, and many people find the longing becomes quieter and easier to sit with. It's not about erasing the relationship, it's about no longer being pulled around by it.
You also don't have to retell every painful detail. The VA's National Center for PTSD notes that clients generally aren't required to describe the trauma in detail during EMDR. We go at a pace that feels safe, and you're always allowed to pause.
You're Not Weak for Missing Them
If you've been judging yourself for missing someone who hurt you, I hope you can soften that a little. Longing doesn't make you foolish, and it doesn't mean you're destined to repeat the past. It means you're a person who is capable of deep attachment, and that capacity is worth protecting, just with people who can hold it safely.
Healing from this takes time, and it doesn't move in a straight line. Some days you'll feel free, and some days a song will undo you. That's normal. You're allowed to take it one day at a time, and you don't have to do it alone.
I offer weekly EMDR and focused EMDR intensives, in person in Pensacola and virtually across Florida and Alabama. No pressure. Just clarity. I'm here to help along the way!
About the Author
Hannah Ciampini, LCSW, is a trauma therapist and owner of Hello Calm Therapy in Pensacola, Florida, and she specializes in EMDR and Brainspotting intensive therapy for adults working through childhood trauma, anxiety, and patterns that continue to feel stuck despite previous therapy or insight. Hannah offers in-person EMDR intensives in Pensacola and virtual intensive therapy for clients located in Florida and Alabama.
