There’s a profound challenge in loving someone who carries deep emotional wounds. The journey of attempting to heal a broken person through love often leads to unexpected lessons about boundaries, self-worth, and the true nature of healthy relationships.
I recently found this video that explores this emotional journey: I was dating a broken man! Cate Rira_The Dating Stories
In this heartfelt episode of The Dating Stories, host Miss Keri is joined by returning guest Cate Rita, who opens up about a past relationship marked by deep emotional scars rooted in childhood trauma. Cate shares the story of a man she once loved, a grown man, over six feet tall and 26 years old, who was emotionally stuck at age seven, the year his mother promised to come for his birthday but never did. That single moment of abandonment shaped how he viewed love and trust, leaving him fearful that Cate, too, would eventually leave.
Cate candidly reflects on how she encouraged him to heal his relationship with his mother, knowing that unhealed wounds from our earliest bonds can sabotage even the most genuine romantic connections. Together, she and Miss Keri delve into the generational pain many Millennials carry, believing that dating, marriage, or children will fix what only personal healing can.
This episode is a gentle but firm reminder: you must nurture the little girl or boy within before trying to build love with someone else.
The allure of the wounded soul
There’s something mysteriously appealing about someone who carries visible emotional scars. It might be the depth in their eyes that speaks of profound experiences. Perhaps it’s the vulnerability that occasionally breaks through carefully constructed walls. Or maybe it’s the human need to be needed, the desire to be the one person who finally helps them heal.
Many find themselves saying, “They just need someone to show them what real love looks like,” after experiencing the common pattern: emotional distance suddenly followed by intense connection. This rhythm, withdrawal followed by just enough intimacy to keep someone invested, becomes the heartbeat of these relationships.
What often goes unrecognised is that this rhythm rarely leads toward healing. It’s typically a holding pattern that keeps both people stuck in respective roles: one as the wounded soul, the other as the determined healer.
Recognising a heart that isn’t ready
With time and personal growth, certain signs become clear indicators that someone isn’t emotionally available for a healthy relationship:
Inconsistent emotional presence: One day deeply connected, the next completely withdrawn. This unpredictability isn’t passion; it’s instability.
Unresolved relationship with the past: Continual references to past traumas without taking active steps toward healing. Their past isn’t just something that happened, it’s still actively happening for them.
Self-sabotage cycles: Just as the relationship deepens, they create conflict, distance themselves, or make destructive choices that undermine connection.
Inability to discuss the future: Vagueness about plans, reluctance to make commitments, or changing the subject when long-term topics arise.
The emotional ceiling: A noticeable limit to how close they allow others to get, often enforced by subtle withdrawals when intimacy deepens.
Resistance to outside help: Dismissal of suggestions for therapy or personal development work despite acknowledging ongoing struggles.
The Saviour Complex: When helping hurts
The determination to “save” someone often reveals more about the rescuer’s needs than about the person they’re trying to help. Psychologists call this the “saviour complex”, a tendency to seek relationships where one can be the rescuer. This pattern typically stems from unaddressed personal needs:
Childhood roles: Many who become “fixers” grew up taking care of emotional needs in their families.
Self-worth through service: Deriving value from being needed rather than simply being loved.
Control illusion: “Fixing” others creates a sense of control when feeling powerless in other areas.
Avoidance mechanism: Focusing on another’s brokenness can distract from addressing one’s wounds.
Professional support often reveals that these relationships aren’t just about loving someone else; they’re about proving personal worth through another’s healing. If the broken person can be “fixed,” the rescuer finally feels enough.
The hidden cost of loving someone who isn’t ready
The toll of loving a broken person who isn’t actively healing extends far beyond emotional exhaustion. The deeper costs are harder to quantify:
Identity erosion: Gradually losing oneself as identity becomes increasingly wrapped up in the other person’s emotional state.
Normalised dysfunction: What begins as “understanding their struggles” evolves into accepting behaviours that undermine personal well-being.
Postponed happiness: “We’ll be happy when they work through this” becomes an ever-moving target, placing joy perpetually in the future.
Diminished standards: Beginning to view basic emotional availability as an aspiration rather than a requirement.
Secondary trauma: Constantly absorbing unprocessed pain creates trauma responses in the caregiver’s system.
Perhaps most damaging is the subtle reframing of love itself, from a mutual exchange to a one-way sacrifice. Love becomes something given, not something received.
When to stay and when to go
The most difficult question for anyone loving someone who isn’t emotionally ready is: When does supporting become enabling? When does patience become self-abandonment?
Through personal journeys and conversations with others who’ve faced similar choices, helpful frameworks emerge for navigating this difficult terrain:
Consider staying if:
- They acknowledge their emotional limitations without deflection or blame.
- They’re actively engaged in healing work (therapy, support groups, consistent personal development).
- Progress, though slow, is steady and observable.
- The relationship has healthy boundaries that protect well-being.
- Personal growth continues, rather than life being put on hold.
Consider leaving if:
- Their awareness of issues remains primarily theoretical, talked about but not acted upon.
- Promises to change are cyclical, with patterns of improvement followed by regression.
- Mental health deteriorates despite the best self-care efforts.
- Friends and family consistently express concern about well-being.
- The relationship creates stagnation in patterns that prevent personal growth.
- The caregiver becomes unrecognisable to themselves in efforts to accommodate brokenness.
The breaking point and beyond
Clarity often comes not during arguments but during quiet moments. Watching a sleeping partner and realising the exact prediction of how the next day, week, and month will unfold, the same cycles of closeness and distance, the same unresolved issues rising to the surface only to be submerged again.
The realisation dawns that love isn’t measured by how much pain one is willing to absorb, but by how much growth people inspire in each other. By that measure, some loves simply aren’t serving either person.
Leaving isn’t a single moment but a process of reclaiming personal needs, rebuilding boundaries, and gradually disentangling self-worth from another’s healing journey. It’s often the hardest and healthiest choice many will make.
The unexpected gifts of loving a broken person
Though these relationships ultimately end, they aren’t wasted experiences. Through loving someone who isn’t ready, many develop deeper compassion, stronger boundaries, and clearer understanding of the difference between supporting someone’s healing and trying to heal them directly.
The lesson emerges that sometimes the most loving thing to do, for oneself and for someone who isn’t ready, is to step away. Not as punishment, not as manipulation, but as recognition that some journeys can only be travelled alone.
The final wisdom is understanding that we can honour the broken places in those we love without trying to fix them. We can hold space for their pain without absorbing it. Most importantly, we can love deeply while still loving ourselves enough to recognise when it’s time to let go.
Here is the video:
