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Attachment Weaponisation: The Bond Was Never an Accident

Attachment Weaponisation: The Bond Was Never an Accident I never noticed the closeness being built. I just assumed it was love, and assumed what I owed because of it, without either of us ever saying it out loud. Short version: Trauma bonding is usually described as something that happens to you, almost by accident, through unpredictable reward. A 2025 Cambridge study, interviewing eighteen women with sustained attachment to abusive partners, found something sharper underneath that: the closeness itself is often deliberately constructed early on, specifically so it can be exploited later. Researchers call this attachment weaponisation. The unsettling part is that it isn't always obvious while it's happening. It can feel completely organic, right up until you realise how much invisible obligation got built into it along the way. What is attachment weaponisation? A 2025 study led by researchers at the University of Cambridge, published in the journal Violence Aga...
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My Christmas Fling (A Brief Field Study)



He talked.

A lot.

Quickly.


I assumed confidence.

It was, in retrospect, noise.


When we went out, he followed me around like a well-behaved but unhelpful child. Not beside me. Not contributing. Just… there. Existing in my slipstream.


In the New Year’s Eve food shop, I selected everything.

He selected nothing.


No opinions.

No preferences.

No “that looks nice.”


Just vibes. And even those were minimal.


I paid.

He did not offer.


At home, I cooked.

He watched.


When the food was ready, he did not eat it.


Not because he didn’t like it.

Not because he wasn’t hungry.

Just… no.


Later, when I tried to talk about anything that required emotional presence, he disappeared. When he resurfaced, his replies sounded like they’d been written by a malfunctioning chatbot:


“I understand.”

“I hear you.”

Did not, in fact, hear me.


Arguments about ghosting were followed by more ghosting, which felt less ironic and more instructional.


Eventually, I realised he wasn’t avoidant.

He wasn’t mysterious.

He wasn’t even complicated.


He simply enjoyed being near effort without making any.


By January, I deleted his number.

The silence that followed was identical to his presence, just cheaper.


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