Gaslighting

Have you ever wondered why walking away from someone who hurts you can feel harder than staying? In Healing from Toxic Relationships, psychologist Stephanie Moulton Sarkis explores why breaking free from manipulative, narcissistic, and emotionally abusive people is so psychologically difficult—and how you can heal, rediscover yourself, and create healthy connections moving forward.

Sarkis argues that toxic relationships operate like addictions: they create powerful cycles of emotional highs and lows that rewire your brain for dependency. To recover, she contends, you must first understand what toxicity looks like—from gaslighting to coercive control—and then rebuild your life through deliberate self-care, self-compassion, and reconnection with emotionally healthy people. Her approach blends clinical insight with practical exercises, guiding you through a full recovery process that restores your confidence and rewrites your internal narrative.

The Anatomy of Toxicity

Sarkis begins with vivid stories—like Jane, whose abusive mother left her equating love with chaos; and Hasim, whose workplace became a theater of harassment and betrayal. These real-life examples contextualize toxicity as not just an interpersonal failure but a patterned, manipulative system that preys on empathy and self-doubt. Sarkis explains that toxic people use an “idealize, devalue, and discard” cycle to trap others emotionally. The initial love-bombing phase feels euphoric, filling unmet childhood and emotional needs. But soon, the abuser begins to chip away at self-confidence until the victim blames themselves for the mistreatment.

By naming these patterns, you're able to depersonalize the abuse—it’s not about you being unlovable, Sarkis insists, but about the abuser’s pathological hunger for control. Recognizing emotional abuse, gaslighting, and coercive control lets you see clearly that manipulation thrives in secrecy and confusion—and awareness begins the healing process.

A Blueprint for Recovery

Once you’ve identified toxicity, Sarkis outlines ten sequential steps to recovery. These include blocking contact completely when possible, letting go of the illusion of closure, forgiving yourself, setting boundaries, seeking professional help, practicing self-care, reconnecting with supportive people, grieving what’s lost, volunteering to rediscover purpose, and learning to prevent future toxicity. Each step builds upon the previous one, designed as a roadmap toward emotional independence.

The advice is practical: she teaches how to block not only a toxic person’s calls but their “flying monkeys” (friends or relatives used as messengers), how to recognize emotional blackmail, how to safely coparent with a high-conflict ex, and why closure doesn’t depend on an apology but on your own acceptance. The book functions as both psychological theory and survival manual. Sarkis compares it to addiction recovery—in just as you must detox from a substance, you must go “no contact” or “low contact” to heal from an abuser’s influence.

The Role of Self-Compassion and Professional Support

A major insight is that self-forgiveness is the cornerstone of true healing. Many survivors, Sarkis notes, feel shame for “falling for” the manipulator or staying too long. But toxic people are skilled predators who exploit empathy, trauma, and self-doubt. Learning compassion for yourself—treating yourself as kindly as a trusted friend—restores the self-esteem that abuse eroded. Additionally, therapy with a trained mental health professional provides structure and accountability, helping you process trauma, understand your attachment styles, and reconstruct healthy boundaries.

She provides clear distinctions among therapy approaches—such as CBT for reframing distorted thinking, DBT for emotional regulation, and ACT for increasing mindfulness and acceptance. The goal, Sarkis explains, isn’t just survival—it’s transformation. You’re reclaiming control over your inner world, which abuse tried to hijack.

Reconnecting, Grieving, and Thriving

A surprising stage of recovery is reestablishing relationships—with yourself and others. Toxic people isolate their victims, so healing involves rebuilding trust in human connection. Sarkis shows how to “reintroduce yourself” to loved ones, handle difficult conversations with “I feel” statements, and distinguish truly supportive individuals from covertly harmful ones. She also teaches grieving as an active process: you might grieve not only the person but the future you imagined with them.

The penultimate steps—volunteering and prevention—move healing outward. Helping others restores purpose, counteracting the narcissistic worldview that confined you. Understanding red flags and attachment patterns ensures that future relationships are rooted in respect, not exploitation. Together, these steps provide a holistic path from chaos to calm—a transformation grounded in awareness, compassion, and action.

Why This Matters

Toxic relationships erode self-trust and distort what love should feel like. Sarkis’s work matters because it validates the survivor’s confusion and pain, then charts a practical journey out. The book is both therapy and empowerment—it combines the empathy of Brené Brown’s self-compassion research, the clarity of Lundy Bancroft’s Why Does He Do That?, and the actionable hope of trauma-informed healing approaches. Ultimately, Sarkis’s message is clear: you can heal, you can rebuild, and you can choose peace over pain. Recovery isn’t about erasing what happened—it’s about reclaiming the parts of yourself that were silenced and building a life worthy of your strength and dignity.

Sarkis insists that understanding toxicity is the first act of self-protection. Toxic individuals aren’t just “difficult” people—they exhibit predictable manipulation patterns designed to destabilize your sense of reality. She describes three key stages that repeat in toxic relationships: idealization, devaluation, and discard. Once you recognize these as cycles rather than isolated behaviors, you can see manipulation for what it is—a calculated strategy, not emotional chaos.

Three Stages of a Toxic Relationship

Idealization: The abuser makes you feel like the center of their world, showering you with affection, gifts, and attention. It's not genuine love—it’s “love-bombing.” You’re mirrored back your own traits, creating an illusion of deep compatibility. Sarkis compares this to drug dependency: the high of attention is chemical and addictive. Soon, the toxic person reveals their true self.

Devaluation: As soon as you show independence, the attacks begin—mocking your appearance, discrediting your ideas, or emotionally withdrawing. The abuser oscillates between cruelty and kindness, creating “intermittent reinforcement,” a psychological hook that strengthens trauma bonds (a concept echoed by George Simon and Judith Herman in trauma studies).

Discard: The final act is abrupt abandonment—silent treatment or explosive exit. Sarkis calls it “object constancy failure”: toxic people can’t maintain consistent feelings when conflicts arise. For them, love evaporates the moment you disappoint them. You’re left confused, still craving validation.

Gaslighting and Emotional Abuse

Gaslighting, one of Sarkis’s central topics, is the process of making victims doubt their perceptions. Phrases like “You’re crazy” or “That never happened” create deep confusion. Over time, you depend on the abuser’s viewpoint—exactly what they want. Emotional abuse extends beyond words into behavior: surveillance, shaming, isolation, and threats.

She also details reactive abuse, when survivors snap back as a defense mechanism. Toxic partners often weaponize these outbursts, accusing victims of being the abuser. Sarkis emphasizes: reaction to oppression isn’t equivalent to perpetration. Understanding this distinction helps dismantle guilt.

Key Thought

The most reliable red flag of toxicity is contradiction: what they say and what they do never align. Identifying this inconsistency is what restores your sanity and self-trust.

By decoding these behaviors and reframing them as patterns of control rather than confusion, you can transform fear into clarity. That awareness makes manipulation lose its power. The first step in healing becomes the simplest but hardest action: believe yourself again.

Leaving a toxic person isn't just emotional—it's logistical. Sarkis underscores that blocking contact is essential because each interaction pulls you back into the addictive cycle. Whether you’re ending a romantic relationship, dealing with a manipulative coworker, or a controlling family member, limiting communication gives your brain time to heal.

Going No Contact

In one case, Aya fled her abusive husband, only to receive endless messages alternating between affection and rage. Sarkis notes that these shifts are designed to provoke “withdrawal symptoms”—like craving, anxiety, and guilt. Eventually, Aya blocked all numbers and emails, realizing silence was freedom. You, too, might feel torn between pity and self-protection, but each unanswered text reaffirms your power to choose peace.

Managing Necessary Contact

For relationships you can’t entirely avoid—coparents or coworkers—she suggests “low contact”: strict boundaries via legal intermediaries, parenting apps, or neutral locations. Detailed parenting plans and communication rules prevent abusers from weaponizing logistics. For toxic workplaces, she advises documentation, HR involvement, and, if needed, exit strategies.

Dealing with Flying Monkeys

Many toxic people send “flying monkeys”—friends or relatives who carry guilt-inducing messages. Sarkis’s advice: block them too. “No contact” means no contact through anyone. Setting clear boundaries (“That subject is off-limits”) teaches others how to treat you.

Essential Reminder

You cannot heal where you are still being hurt. Every blocked number is a gate back to yourself.

Sarkis bridges theory with practicality—coparenting apps, boundary scripts, and legal reinforcement. These aren't acts of cruelty but necessary tools of recovery. In blocking contact, you reclaim more than privacy—you reclaim mental and emotional oxygen.

Many survivors seek closure as though it’s the missing piece of healing. Sarkis challenges this myth: toxic people rarely apologize or change. Waiting for their repentance traps you in perpetual grief. Instead, you create closure yourself—through understanding, journaling, and self-forgiveness.

Redefining Forgiveness

Forgiving yourself is not excusing what happened but releasing self-blame. Often survivors say, “I should have known better.” Sarkis responds: No one is immune to manipulation. Toxic people target empathy, not weakness. When you practice self-compassion—seeing yourself as a person who did their best with limited information—you replace shame with healing.

Forgiveness of the abuser isn’t mandatory. Sarkis diverges from spiritual approaches that demand it. You decide if and when you forgive—but peace doesn’t depend on reconciliation. Instead, focus on forgiving yourself for learning the hard way.

Finding Closure Within

Through techniques such as the “unsent letter”—writing the apology you wish you’d received—you express the pain without reopening doors. This practice transforms closure from something received to something created. Tammy, who divorced her manipulative husband, wrote letters she never sent, finding validation in seeing her truth on paper.

Powerful Realization

Closure isn’t something you wait for—it’s something you build by believing that your story deserves peace even if theirs doesn’t.

Letting go of closure, Sarkis emphasizes, frees you from perpetual dependency. Forgiveness starts with yourself. Once you accept that healing doesn’t require mutual understanding, you liberate your future self from the past’s demand for answers.

Boundaries are the architecture of self-respect. Sarkis teaches that boundaries don’t push people away—they teach others how to love you properly. There are five types: emotional, physical, sexual, time, and mental. Toxic people violated these constantly, conflating control with closeness; now, rebuilding them restores balance.

Identifying Your Boundaries

Write rules for your life: “I will be treated with respect,” “I can say no without explanation,” “My time and body are mine.” Sarkis encourages journaling these principles—they become anchors when someone tests your limits. Healthy boundaries say yes when you want and no when you must.

Attachment Styles and Boundary Strength

Attachment styles play a huge role. If you tend toward anxious attachment, you overextend to avoid abandonment. Avoidant attachment avoids intimacy to escape rejection. Healing leads you toward secure attachment, where you can negotiate boundaries calmly. Sarkis describes exercises for both: mindfulness for anxiety, and gentle vulnerability for avoidance.

Applying Boundaries to Everyday Life

Whether at work, home, or social gatherings, boundaries must be practiced daily. Saying “that topic is off limits” when relatives gossip, or “no, thank you” without apology, retrains your mind to equate no with self-worth. Rhys’s story illustrates this shift—after years of chaos, learning to say no became his act of freedom.

Practice

Boundaries aren’t barriers—they’re doors that you open when trust is earned and close when respect is broken.

Through boundary work, you transform guilt into assertiveness—a foundation of emotional security. As Sarkis reminds, every healthy “no” is a promise to yourself that you won’t sacrifice peace for approval again.

If toxic relationships drained your self-worth, self-care is how you refuel. Sarkis reframes self-care not as luxury but as survival. By repairing your physical, emotional, spiritual, and social health, you restore autonomy and stability—defenses against future manipulation.

Four Dimensions of Self-Care

• Physical: Eat well, rest, and embrace movement—she calls it “medicine through motion.”
• Emotional: Feel your emotions without judgment. Practice mindfulness and journaling to externalize thoughts.
• Spiritual: Connect with purpose—whether through faith, nature, or values.
• Social: Reconnect with healthy people and learn to be alone without loneliness.

Jane, once consumed by work to escape trauma, learned through Sarkis’s guidance to balance productivity with rest. Self-care brought her nervous system out of constant fight-or-flight.

Addressing Addiction and Anxiety

After leaving toxicity, you may substitute one addiction for another—overwork, alcohol, or excessive social media. Sarkis likens this to trauma withdrawal. The remedy isn’t shame; it’s awareness and redirection. Replace avoidance with nurturing action: journaling, meditation, volunteering, therapy.

Core Reminder

Self-care isn’t selfish. It’s a declaration that your wellbeing matters as much as anyone else’s needs.

By scheduling regular rest and joy, you rewrite the story of your life from survival to thriving. As Sarkis notes, “Treat yourself how you wish others had treated you.” In reclaiming care, you become author and guardian of your own peace.

One hallmark of abuse is isolation—cutting you off from support networks. Sarkis calls reconnection the turning point of recovery. It’s where you reclaim the joy of belonging. Yet, reconnecting requires discernment: not everyone deserves reentry into your life.

Choosing Whom to Reconnect With

Use honesty as a filter: reconnect only with those who are respectful, empathetic, and nonjudgmental. The “healthy person checklist” is practical—if someone guilts or shames you, ignores boundaries, or drains you, keep distance. Jules’s experience illustrates this—her friend Sandy isolated her through lies. Lesson learned: genuine friends may disagree, but they never manipulate.

Developing Communication Skills

Sarkis recommends “I feel” statements to express needs without blame: “When this happens, I feel… because…” These foster accountability and empathy. Role-playing difficult conversations helps ease fear of confrontation. Healthy communication becomes not conflict avoidance but constructive dialogue.

Creating Support Networks

Every survivor needs a support bull’s-eye—inner circles of trusted 3 a.m. friends, mid-circle acquaintances, and outer-circle community members. Rebuilding these circles reintroduces emotional safety.

Insight

You heal in community, not isolation. The right relationships mirror back your worth rather than distort it.

Through reconnection, you shift from being someone who was rescued to someone who belongs. The process of rebuilding friendships—slow, intentional, and surrounded by kindness—teaches you that love chosen freely is stronger than love demanded through fear.

Grieving after a toxic relationship confuses many survivors—how do you mourn someone who hurt you? Sarkis explains that grief isn’t always about love lost; it’s about identity lost. You’re grieving the person you once were and the future you imagined. Learning to feel that grief fully is what transforms it into growth.

The Stages of Grief Reimagined

Sarkis adapts Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s stages—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance—to toxic relationship recovery. You may move nonlinearly: feel relief and rage simultaneously, mourn a fantasy rather than a person. Acceptance doesn’t mean justification—it means acknowledging reality without self-punishment.

When Grief Becomes Complicated

She warns of complicated grief, akin to withdrawal from addiction. Symptoms like obsessive thoughts, guilt, and avoidance signal deeper wounds. Therapy helps untangle this complexity, teaching you to distinguish missing peace from missing control.

Transformative Practices

Sarkis proposes journaling your own endings, writing letters to deceased or absent toxic people, and reclaiming meaning through service. Jessie’s story—visiting her dying abusive mother—shows that closure may never come externally. Healing comes when you make peace with contradiction.

Guiding Truth

Grief doesn’t mean you wish they were back—it means you’re strong enough to face the void they left behind.

Ultimately, transforming grief into growth restores meaning. You discover resilience not by forgetting pain but by learning that survival was always strength in disguise. As Sarkis says, “Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.”

Volunteering, Sarkis suggests, is the secret ingredient in final-stage healing. When you help others, you reclaim your sense of power and purpose. Toxic relationships shrink your world to one manipulator’s orbit—altruism expands it again.

The Psychology of Altruism

Helping others boosts empathy and resilience. Studies show altruism activates the same brain regions associated with wellbeing. Sarkis writes that empathy, compassion, and service form emotional armor against cynicism. Volunteering shifts focus from trauma to transformation—it reminds you: you still matter.

Reconnecting Through Purpose

Survivors often overcommit in eagerness to reengage with life. Sarkis advises paced involvement: choose roles that match your strengths—teach, mentor, create, advocate. Alma’s story of teaching sewing to abuse survivors encapsulates how shared healing renews identity. Service becomes self-expression.

Healthy Service and Boundaries

Beware of “compassion fatigue”—absorbing others’ trauma as your own. Maintain boundaries even in service. Support, don’t rescue. Sarkis emphasizes volunteering only with ethical, transparent organizations. Healthy helping uplifts without consuming.

Restorative Idea

When you pour compassion into the world, you dilute the memory of cruelty that once defined it.

Volunteering teaches survivors the most profound truth: you can turn pain into purpose. Helping others isn’t about escape—it’s about becoming evidence that healing is possible.

The book culminates with prevention—taking everything you’ve learned and using it to safeguard your future. Sarkis tells readers like Meke, who cautiously reenters dating after abuse, that fear is natural but education dissolves it. Prevention is about awareness, not avoidance.

Spotting Red Flags Early

Idealization, trauma dumping, inconsistency—these are early signs. Toxic people reveal themselves in how they handle boundaries. If someone overshares trauma too soon, disrespects service staff, or guilt-trips affection, pause. Healthy love unfolds gradually; manipulation rushes.

Breaking Codependency

Codependency—measuring your worth by another’s mood—is a legacy of abuse. Healing means practicing “loving detachment”: support others without losing yourself. Sarkis’s exercises teach awareness of unequal effort and encourage equal give-and-take relationships.

Practicing Healthy Vulnerability

Reveal tender parts only to those who’ve earned trust. Sarkis reminds readers: vulnerability isn’t debt—it’s a gift. Observe how someone handles others’ pain before sharing your own. Respect is the measure of emotional safety.

Argue Without Fighting

Healthy relationships allow disagreement without cruelty. She introduces “scheduled arguments,” structured conversations where couples discuss issues calmly. No blaming, no yelling—arguments become acts of growth rather than fear.

Core Principle

Trust isn’t built in intensity—it’s built in consistency. The best way to prevent toxicity is to choose peace over passion and respect over rescue.

By integrating Sarkis’s lessons—self-knowledge, boundaries, observation—you move from survivor to thriver. Prevention isn’t paranoia; it’s wisdom earned through pain. And with that wisdom, you can love boldly but safely again.