In the quiet space of my therapy office, I often witness the profound impact of childhood experiences on adult relationships. The story of David and Iman exemplifies a journey I’ve seen countless times—where love, despite its depth and sincerity, becomes entangled with the invisible threads of early emotional wounds. As a couples therapist, I’ve observed how unresolved experiences shape our capacity for intimacy, trust, and connection.

The complex dance between yearning for closeness and fearing vulnerability is a pattern that emerges frequently in my practice, particularly among those who’ve experienced developmental trauma. Through David and Iman’s story, we’ll explore how echoes from the past reverberate through present relationships and, more importantly, how couples can work together to create new patterns of secure attachment and lasting love.

As a professional who has guided countless couples through similar challenges, I’ve learned that understanding the link between early trauma and adult intimacy isn’t just about identifying problems—it’s about illuminating a path forward. This awareness becomes especially crucial when we consider that more than two-thirds of children in the U.S. experience some form of trauma. These are not abstract numbers. These are future partners—people like David.

David

David sat in my office during his one-on-one time—part of every intensive couples therapy weekend. He was struggling to understand why his relationship with Iman was falling apart.

“I love her so much,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion, “but every time we get close, I find myself pulling away. When she tries to comfort me, I feel trapped. When she gives me space, I feel abandoned. I don’t understand why I can’t just be normal with her.”

Like many survivors of developmental trauma, David faced challenges that started long before he met Iman. • He grew up with a father who had strongly dysregulated emotions. • His mother was often distant and unreachable. • He learned early that love was not reliable. • He also learned love often came with conditions.

Now, at 32, these early lessons were shadowing his adult relationship.

The Dance of Connection and Distance

“Sometimes I see Iman reach out to touch my shoulder, and I flinch,” David explained. “She’s never hurt me, but my body flinches before my mind can catch up. Then I see the pain in her eyes, and I hate myself for causing it.”

During her individual session, Iman shared:

“I love David deeply. But sometimes, loving him feels like navigating an invisible maze.”

One day, he’s incredibly close and affectionate; the next, he’s distant and unreachable. I never know which David I’m going to get, and it’s exhausting. But I also see how much he’s hurting, and I want to understand and help.”

I explained to them both that David’s reactions were common among people who experienced emotional trauma in childhood. “What you’re describing, David, is your attachment system at work. Our brains develop certain protective patterns when we grow up in unpredictable environments.”

How Trauma Shapes Relationship Patterns

As they learned more, this pair began to recognize the unspoken choreography of their relationship. David’s tendency to withdraw wasn’t a conscious choice—it was a survival mechanism. His father’s unpredictable outbursts and his mother’s emotional distance had taught him that closeness wasn’t safe.

“I never thought of my childhood as ‘trauma,’” David admitted. “I mean, my father never hit me. He would hit walls. Slam doors. The violence was emotional, but it was loud.”

“Yes,” I said. “Developmental trauma includes emotional neglect, coercion, chronic stress, and the absence of emotional safety. You didn’t need bruises to carry wounds.”

Loving Someone with a History of Trauma

For Iman, this new lens brought clarity. David’s mixed signals—his worried texts followed by cold distance—weren’t manipulation. They were pain.

“I used to take it personally,” Iman said. “Now I understand that when he pulls away, it’s not about me—it’s about pain that goes back years before we met.”

David’s behavior reflected a common pattern among trauma survivors. His fearful-avoidant attachment style meant he craved intimacy but feared the very connection he needed most.

Common Relationship Patterns Rooted in Early Trauma:

The Journey of Healing

Couples therapy is often the first step in addressing these patterns—but it can’t be the last. David found an individual therapist who specialized in attachment trauma. Over time, old memories returned with painful clarity.

He remembered how his father used coercive control to isolate and dominate his mother. No hitting—but daily intimidation. Verbal attacks. Economic abuse. And one particularly cruel tactic: his mother wasn’t allowed to talk to him when she’d “misbehaved.”

This wasn’t discipline. It was domination. And it shaped everything.

The Impact of Coercive Control on Children:

Progress Over Time

Six months into therapy, David returned for a follow-up couples session.

“Iman and I had an argument—nothing big, just about dinner plans. But instead of shutting down, I told her I was feeling overwhelmed. I needed a break. Twenty minutes later, I came back. We talked.”

Iman smiled. “It was different. Before, these moments would spiral into days of distance. This time, we moved through it together.”

That’s what healing looks like: • Recognizing patterns • Communicating needs • Creating emotional safety • Building trust, moment by moment

Practical Steps in Their Healing Process

For David:

For Iman:

Together, they:

When the Damage Is Too Deep

Not every couple finds the same rhythm. For some, the trauma runs so deep—and the secrecy has lasted so long—that even new insight can feel like betrayal.

Some partners are relieved to finally understand. Others feel burned out, resentful, or emotionally starved. Still others have been harmed themselves.

And some trauma survivors never believe they deserve love. They keep one foot out the door—choosing distance over the risk of pain.

The Limitations of Solo Therapy

Too many survivors remain in individual therapy alone—sometimes for years—while their partners wait. And wait.

I’ve worked with trauma-informed therapists who dismiss the partner’s pain. Who say, “They’ll just have to wait.”

But the relationship suffers. Intimacy disappears. Resentment festers.

Couples therapy offers something individual therapy can’t: a living laboratory. It brings attachment injuries into the light—so they can be examined and revised together.

Managing Emotional Dysregulation

Survivors of neglect or abuse often never learned how to name their emotions, let alone manage them. So when conflict arises, it can feel overwhelming, catastrophic, or unbearable.

Safety and stabilization must always come first. In cases of ongoing abuse, healing begins with protection.

But when safety exists, we can build skills: • Naming emotions • Pausing when flooded • Practicing co-regulation • Distinguishing past fear from present threat

A Metaphor for Understanding Trauma

Imagine a child who was once mauled by a dog. Now, even a puppy’s playful nip can send them into a panic.

The survivor must learn to distinguish: This is not the same dog. This is not the same danger.

In a relationship, both partners must learn to navigate that fear together.

Finding Your Path to Healing

If this story resonates with you:

Healing from trauma is not linear. But with the right support, couples can build the kind of love they didn’t think was possible.

That’s the work we do in intensives. Together.