Why Can't You Just Move On?
Why Can't You Just Move On?
If you've survived an abusive relationship, you've probably heard some version of this question. Maybe from a friend. Maybe from family. Maybe from a judge, a therapist, or another professional. Maybe, after hearing it enough, you've even asked it of yourself.
It usually sounds like encouragement, but inside that question is an assumption that isn't true.
It assumes the narrative of the past is settled.
It assumes everyone agrees about what happened, who was responsible, and why it mattered. It assumes the experience has been understood, filed away, and can now be left behind.
For many survivors of coercive control, psychological abuse, and post-separation abuse, none of those things are true. The past isn't settled. It's still being argued.
When most people experience something painful, they eventually weave it into the story of their lives. It becomes something that happened. They may not like it, but they understand it. Their mind no longer has to keep returning to it because it has found a place for it.
Abuse interrupts that process.
Especially when the abuse includes gaslighting, manipulation, blame-shifting, or the systematic rewriting of reality.
Instead of helping the past become clearer, the abusive person keeps making it murkier.
"That never happened."
"You're remembering it wrong."
"You're too sensitive."
"You're the abusive one."
"Everyone else agrees with me."
The relationship may end, but the uncertainty doesn’t. The survivor isn't just carrying painful memories. They're carrying unanswered questions.
Was it really abuse?
Did I overreact?
Was I the problem?
How could someone who loved me also treat me this way?
Those questions don't keep surfacing because survivors enjoy living in the past.
It happens because the mind naturally returns to experiences it has not yet been able to make sense of.
The opposite of moving on isn't staying angry.
It's staying confused.
This is why I struggle with the advice to "just focus on the future."
Of course we want people to build peaceful, meaningful lives after abuse.
Of course we want co-parents to “communicate effectively” whenever that's possible.
But peace can't be built on top of confusion.
You can't leave behind a story you're still trying to understand.
This is where validation becomes so important.
Validation is what allows reality to become settled again.
It's the moment when your experience no longer has to be endlessly retried in your own mind.
It's being able to say:
That happened.
It affected me.
It wasn't okay.
Not because someone else finally admitted it, but because you've reached a place where the truth no longer shifts every time someone challenges it.
That's very different from dwelling on the past.
It's finally understanding it.
This also helps explain something I see so often in family court.
Survivors are frequently encouraged to communicate calmly, cooperate, and move forward. Those are worthwhile goals. But they're often expected before anyone has recognized that one parent may still be actively distorting reality, manipulating the process, or using ongoing contact as another means of control.
When that happens, survivors can look "stuck."
From the outside, it may appear that they keep bringing up old issues.
From the inside, they're often still trying to create a shared reality of what’s true.
Those are not the same thing.
Eventually, the goal is that the past is able to live in the past.
A life that is no longer organized around crisis.
But I don't believe people arrive there by pretending the past no longer matters.
They arrive there when reality stops shifting beneath their feet.
So if someone asks why you can't "just move on," I hope you'll remember this:
Moving on isn't about refusing to look backward.
It's about finally understanding the past well enough that it no longer demands your attention.
Healing doesn't begin when you stop talking about the past.
It begins when the past finally stops arguing with you.
