Let’s talk about that weird emotional hangover you get after confronting your husband’s bad behavior. You know, the one where he hurts you, but somehow you end up feeling sorry for him? Yep. That old chestnut. In this episode, I get real about the trap so many of us Christian women fall into, the compassion boomerang that keeps us stuck in abusive marriages.
I’ve lived this. I breathed this for 25 years. I know exactly what it feels like to see the abuse for what it is, feel a spark of righteous anger… only to have it snuffed out by a fake tear, a Bible verse, or a bouquet of “I didn’t mean it that way” flowers. Before you know it, you’re back to feeling like the monster for having feelings in the first place.
So I’m calling it out. We’re unpacking why this happens, how it messes with your brain, and what you can do to flip the script and start feeling sorry for the person who truly deserves your compassion: you.
What I Want You to Walk Away With:
- You’re not crazy. You’re chemically trauma bonded. And yes, that’s a thing.
- Your compassion is beautiful, but when it’s misdirected at your abuser, it becomes a prison.
- The church has taught us to tolerate abuse in the name of Jesus—and honestly, Jesus would’ve flipped a table over that.
- Grief isn’t the enemy. Denial is. Grief is the beginning of healing.
- You can feel sorry for yourself. You should. That’s what healing starts with.
- You don’t need to be brave enough for the whole mountain—just the next step.
- You are the one who’s going to rescue you. (No prince required.)
Related Resources:
- Liked this episode? Then you’ll like two of my other Flying Free Podcast episodes, “How Can You Tell if Your Abusive Partner Has Changed?” and “Why You Can’t Stop Thinking About Your Abuser – and When That Changes.”
Article: Why Do I Feel Sorry for My Mean Husband? (And Why That Needs to Stop)
You’re folding laundry. Or maybe you’re trying to answer an email while your toddler gleefully finger-paints the kitchen walls with applesauce. Suddenly, BOOM: he says something cruel. Dismissive. Maybe it’s a subtle eye roll, or maybe it’s the “You’re too sensitive” dagger you’ve heard a thousand times. And just like that, you feel two inches tall.
And here’s what really messes with your head: five minutes later, he’s asking if you want to watch a movie. Maybe he brings flowers. Maybe he’s quoting a Bible verse about forgiveness. Maybe he cries. And suddenly…you feel bad.
For him.
Let’s pause right there. Why are you feeling compassion for someone who just emotionally sucker-punched you?
Yeah. I asked myself that same question for twenty-five years.
Compassion for the Wrong Character in the Story
This is what I call the Christian woman’s emotional booby trap. We’ve been spiritually groomed with half-baked theology since birth: “Love bears all things.” “Forgive seventy times seven.” “Be a Proverbs 31 woman” (which apparently translates to “die trying to please everyone while looking good and never complaining”).
So when our husband mistreats us, we’re momentarily upset, and rightly so. Until he softens and flips the script. Then our guilt kicks in, fueled by years of religious conditioning and a misplaced sense of what “love” should look like. Suddenly we feel like the villain for being hurt in the first place.
Christian-style brainwashing at its finest.
Emotional Abuse 101: Hurt, Hope, Repeat
The cycle is predictable. He hurts you. You confront him. He blames you. You cry. He gets nice again. You feel bad for being mad.
Rinse. Repeat.
Maybe you’ve even tried dramatic gestures to be heard. I personally sacrificed two beloved teacups in my attempt to get my then-husband to see that he was breaking me. Spoiler alert: he did not care. The only thing that got shattered were those cups…and my dignity.
And yet, every time he reappeared as Nice Guy Jesus Lite™️, I felt myself soften. “Maybe he didn’t mean it.” “Maybe I’m just overreacting.” “He did mow the lawn.”
Meanwhile, my soul was quietly bleeding out on the linoleum.
The Real Reason You Feel Sorry for Him
This one’s going to sting, but let’s go there.
You feel sorry for him because facing the truth of what he’s doing and what it means about your marriage is just too painful. Because if you don’t feel sorry for him, you might have to feel sorry for you. And that means grieving the marriage you thought you had. The love you thought was real. The dream that’s now on life support.
Grief is terrifying. It feels like a black hole you’ll never climb out of. But here’s the secret I’ve learned from crawling through it: grief doesn’t kill you. Denial does.
Grief, oddly enough, sets you free.
You Can’t Heal What You Won’t Admit
When I finally started writing things down, just the raw facts, no sugar-coating, I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. There it was, in black and white: patterns of cruelty, manipulation, dismissal. It was like reading a horror novel where the villain lived in my house and wore a wedding ring.
That was the beginning of my rescue.
Not because Prince Charming galloped in on a white horse, but because I finally realized I was worth saving.
The Science Behind the Crazy
Let’s talk trauma bonding. When you’re stuck in a cycle of abuse and “affection,” your brain becomes addicted to the high of those rare moments when he’s kind. Your brain releases feel-good chemicals after conflict, and that tiny hit of “maybe he does love me” becomes emotional heroin.
This isn’t weakness. It’s neuroscience. But it is keeping you stuck.
And our churches? Don’t get me started. They’ve weaponized our empathy against us. Taught us that good Christian women die to self, endure all things, and never dare say “this hurts.”
Jesus didn’t applaud abuse. He didn’t tell women to submit to cruelty. He flipped tables and called religious abusers “whitewashed tombs.” He’d flip some serious tables in certain modern churches, too.
Why Minimizing the Harm Isn’t Holy
Let me guess: “It’s not that bad.” “Other women have it worse.” “At least he doesn’t hit me.”
I hear this all the time from women in our Flying Free community. That’s your trauma talking. That’s your brain trying to protect you from the wrecking ball of truth.
But minimizing abuse doesn’t make it less real. It just makes healing more impossible.
Empathy: Your Superpower Turned Shackles
If you’re like me, your empathy is a gift, one that predators love to exploit. You see the wounded little boy inside your husband. You believe in his potential. You understand him like no one else does.
But guess what? He’s not changing. And your compassion is being used to keep you imprisoned in a toxic fantasy.
The Hidden Cost of Feeling Sorry for Him
When you keep shifting your compassion away from yourself and onto the person hurting you, here’s what you lose:
- Your reality – You question your own perceptions. Was that really mean? Am I the problem?
- Your voice – You learn to silence yourself before he ever has to.
- Your self – You forget you are a human being with needs, desires, and dreams.
- Your time – Years, sometimes decades, of your one beautiful life, gone to surviving instead of living.
Friend, you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself. You are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to grieve the loss of the marriage you hoped for and not feel bad about it.
Practical Steps to Redirect Your Compassion
Here’s what helped me climb out of the empathy trap:
- Reality journal – Record incidents exactly as they happened. When you re-read them later, the patterns will become painfully clear.
- Self-validation – Look in the mirror and say, “You didn’t deserve that. Your pain is real.”
- Feelings-allowed zone – Car, bathroom, closet—pick a spot where you can fall apart without judgment.
- Find a safe person – Not a fixer. Not a theologian. Just someone who can sit with your pain.
- Self-care that isn’t fluffy – Not bubble baths. I’m talking about the hard work of tending to your soul.
- Re-examine your theology – Ask if your view of God makes space for protecting yourself. If not, time to unlearn some bad religion.
The Life You Haven’t Even Imagined Yet
I still sometimes feel sorry for my exes. That’s okay. Healing isn’t a straight line. But now I also feel sorry for me, and that has made all the difference.
There’s a life waiting for you where your feelings matter. Where you’re not constantly walking on eggshells. Where you can finally exhale.
And if I could go back and tell past-me one thing, it’d be this:
Start by feeling compassion for yourself. The rest will follow.
Let this blog be your first step out. And if you’re ready to go deeper, join a community of women who get it. Visit joinflyingfree.com. You are not alone, and you are worth rescuing.
XOXO,
Natalie
