Insights and Healing

Broadcasting to the Void: When You're Invisible in Your Own Home

You say "good morning" and no one answers.

Not because they didn't hear you. They heard. They just didn't acknowledge that you exist in the space with them. You're broadcasting on a frequency no one has tuned into—or worse, a frequency they've actively blocked.

This isn't loneliness. This is something sharper. You can be lonely in an empty house and find peace in that solitude. But living with people who look straight through you? That's a special kind of erasure that cuts deep into your sense of self.

If you're reading this, you may be in a relationship that confuses you deeply. The person you love can be charming, attentive, even adoring—and then, without warning, cold, critical, or cruel. You find yourself walking on eggshells, trying to predict which version of them you'll encounter. You've started questioning your own perceptions, wondering if you're somehow the problem.

Or perhaps you've already left and are trying to make sense of what happened. Why did you stay so long? Why is it so hard to stay away? Why do you miss someone who hurt you so much?

These experiences are far more common than you might think, and they follow patterns that are well-documented in clinical literature. Understanding these patterns—the cycle of abuse, the neurobiological reasons it's genuinely hard to leave, and the specific work of recovery—can help you move from confusion to clarity, from survival to genuine healing. You're not alone in this, and what you're feeling makes complete sense.

Unpacking pop psychology's obsession with the term—and what's actually happening clinically

Open any social media app and scroll for a few minutes. You'll encounter content about narcissists: how to spot them, how to leave them, how to heal from them. The term has become cultural shorthand for anyone who's selfish, manipulative, or emotionally unavailable. Your difficult ex? Narcissist. Your controlling parent? Narcissist. Your self-absorbed coworker? Definitely a narcissist.

This linguistic explosion reflects something real and important—people are trying to name experiences of profound mistreatment and manipulation that often went unacknowledged by therapists, family members, and society at large. The word gives form to experiences that were previously dismissed with "that's just how they are" or "you're being too sensitive." For many people, discovering the term "narcissist" was the first time someone validated what they'd been living through.

But the mainstreaming of a clinical term has also created complications. When everyone who hurts us becomes a narcissist, we may be obscuring more than we illuminate—both about these difficult people and about what actually helps us heal from the damage they cause. Let's unpack this together.

Why the Internet Gets This One Wrong — and Why Precision Can Save Your Life

Understanding a widely misused term—and what your relationship actually needs

You see it everywhere now—social media posts, podcast discussions, conversations with friends. Someone had a difficult breakup, and suddenly: "I was trauma bonded." A coworker stays in an unfulfilling job: "Must be trauma bonding." A friend tolerates rude behavior from family: "That's trauma bonding, right?"

The term has become cultural shorthand for "I stayed when I should have left." And while the widespread recognition of this concept represents important progress in understanding abusive relationships, something valuable gets lost when clinical terms become catch-all explanations for every disappointing relationship dynamic.

Let's talk about what trauma bonding actually is—and what it isn't.