A Psychological Look at Isolation in Abusive Relationships

By Linda C J Turner, Therapist & Advocate

One of the most heartbreaking and misunderstood aspects of surviving abuse—especially emotional and psychological abuse—is the quiet disappearance of long-term friends and loved ones. People who knew you for years, sometimes decades, seem to vanish from your life. And later, when the dust starts to settle, people ask:
“What happened to all your friends?”

The truth, as any survivor knows, is far more complex than what appears on the surface.

The Illusion of Disconnection

To the outside world, it may look like you pushed people away. Like you stopped responding. Like you let go of friendships for no reason. But survivors of abuse know the truth: abusers isolate intentionally, methodically, and with precision.

This is not an accident. It is a psychological strategy—a form of control that’s subtle at first and then deeply entrenched.

Abusers cannot risk having strong, loving, supportive people around their victims. Why? Because those people know. They notice. They ask questions. They remind you of who you really are. They threaten the abuser’s control. And most dangerously—they might help you leave.

The Psychology of Isolation in Abuse

Isolation is a classic tactic in coercive control. It begins with seeds of doubt:
“Are you sure she’s really your friend?”
“He doesn’t seem to respect our relationship.”
“Your sister never really supports you.”
Gradually, your connections are undermined.
Your time with others becomes limited.
Your phone is monitored.
Your boundaries are twisted.
Your world becomes smaller.

Over time, this manipulation creates a deep sense of confusion and guilt. You start to second-guess your own instincts. You’re told they were the problem. That you are being difficult. That they were never really on your side. The result? You distance yourself from the very people who could have helped you escape.

And to everyone else watching from the outside, it just looks like you’ve changed—that you’ve abandoned your friends, that you’re isolated by choice. But it was never a choice. It was survival.

For Those Who Tried to Stay

So this is a love letter.
A thank you.
A long-overdue acknowledgment.

To Yvonne, Leanne, Nicky, (Almost) Jane, my sister, my son, Anne—and all those who saw what was happening, who reached out, who tried to stay close even when the door was slowly being shut in your face by forces you couldn’t see.

You weren’t wrong.
You weren’t overreacting.
You weren’t imagining things.

You were trying to help someone you loved escape a prison that wasn’t made of bars—but of fear, control, shame, and silence.

And perhaps you didn’t always understand why your words didn’t get through. Or why your support was rejected. Or why one day, your calls stopped being returned. But please know—it wasn’t because you failed. It was because the abuse was working.

The Power of Connection—Even When It’s Broken

From a psychological perspective, safe, enduring relationships act as an anchor. They remind us of who we are outside of abuse. They hold space for our truth, even when we can’t voice it ourselves. And while isolation breaks those ties in the short term, the memory of those people—their kindness, their presence—can become a light in the dark.

Sometimes, years later, survivors reach out. Sometimes they don’t. But either way, those people are never forgotten.

Because deep down, we remember who saw us.
We remember who tried.
And we carry the warmth of your love, even when we were too lost to say so.

A Note to Survivors

If you’ve lost people along the way, you’re not alone. This is one of the most painful, confusing parts of the abuse aftermath. But know this: good friends understand. And sometimes, when you’re safe again, when the fog clears, you can reconnect—with them, or with others who offer the same kind of safety and care.

And if you’re someone on the outside, wondering what happened to her friendships—please remember that abuse doesn’t just harm the person directly involved. It reverberates through their entire support system.

But healing is possible. Relationships can be rebuilt. And survivors can thrive again in the presence of safe, loving, unwavering people.

— Linda C J Turner

Trauma Therapist | Neuroscience & Emotional Intelligence Practitioner | Advocate for Women’s Empowerment