The Brain’s Main Purpose
Although we often associate the brain with thinking, decision-making, and personal development, its original and most fundamental purpose is much simpler: to keep us alive. From an evolutionary perspective, the brain didn’t develop primarily to help us grow, evolve, or reflect — it developed to protect us from harm, avoid threats, and ensure our survival in a world that was once full of immediate dangers.
This survival function still shapes the way our brain works today. It’s why we can overreact to criticism, misread a neutral face as hostile, or shut down emotionally in a conversation that feels just a little too intense. Long before the brain was able to reflect or analyze, it learned to detect even the smallest signals of threat — and to respond instantly, often without our permission.
This survival function still shapes the way our brain works today. It’s why we can overreact to criticism, misread a neutral face as hostile, or shut down emotionally in a conversation that feels just a little too intense. Long before the brain was able to reflect or analyze, it learned to detect even the smallest signals of threat — and to respond instantly, often without our permission.
→ So, the main purpose of the brain is survival — not personal or professional growth, and not even happiness.
The Amygdala — Our Internal Alarm
The amygdala is a small, almond-shaped structure located in the right hemisphere of the brain, and it plays a central role in detecting threats and keeping us safe. It doesn’t think — it feels. You can imagine it as a built-in alarm system, constantly scanning for any sign of possible danger.
It doesn’t care whether the threat is physical or emotional. A sharp tone of voice, an ambiguous silence, a look that reminds you of something painful — all of that is enough for the amygdala to take control. It doesn’t need a full story. It works through associations: if something in the present moment even slightly resembles something that once felt unsafe, the amygdala treats it as a real threat.
When it senses danger, it activates the body’s stress response system and signals the release of adrenaline, preparing you to react — to fight, flee, freeze, or shut down. It doesn't ask if your reaction fits the current situation. It simply moves to protect.
This is why we sometimes find ourselves feeling uneasy, irritated, or shut down without understanding exactly why. It’s not a failure of clarity or emotional maturity — it’s the amygdala doing its job, signaling that something might be wrong, and pushing the body into a state of alertness, releasing adrenaline, preparing you to react — to fight, flee, freeze, or shut down. It doesn't ask if your reaction fits the current situation. It simply moves to protect.
It doesn’t care whether the threat is physical or emotional. A sharp tone of voice, an ambiguous silence, a look that reminds you of something painful — all of that is enough for the amygdala to take control. It doesn’t need a full story. It works through associations: if something in the present moment even slightly resembles something that once felt unsafe, the amygdala treats it as a real threat.
When it senses danger, it activates the body’s stress response system and signals the release of adrenaline, preparing you to react — to fight, flee, freeze, or shut down. It doesn't ask if your reaction fits the current situation. It simply moves to protect.
This is why we sometimes find ourselves feeling uneasy, irritated, or shut down without understanding exactly why. It’s not a failure of clarity or emotional maturity — it’s the amygdala doing its job, signaling that something might be wrong, and pushing the body into a state of alertness, releasing adrenaline, preparing you to react — to fight, flee, freeze, or shut down. It doesn't ask if your reaction fits the current situation. It simply moves to protect.
→ So, the amygdala works through past associations and reacts before we think.
Connection as a Survival Strategy
But the right side of the brain is also responsible for another survival strategy — connection.
From an evolutionary point of view, connection wasn’t optional — it was essential. For thousands of years, survival depended on being part of a group. You needed others to protect you, share food, raise children, and defend against danger. If you were excluded from the group, you didn’t just lose company — you lost safety. And the brain remembers that.
This is still true for a child. In the early years of life, the nervous system is not mature enough to handle the world alone. The child must have a connection with an adult in order to survive. So connection stands on the same list of essentials — right alongside security.
From an evolutionary point of view, connection wasn’t optional — it was essential. For thousands of years, survival depended on being part of a group. You needed others to protect you, share food, raise children, and defend against danger. If you were excluded from the group, you didn’t just lose company — you lost safety. And the brain remembers that.
This is still true for a child. In the early years of life, the nervous system is not mature enough to handle the world alone. The child must have a connection with an adult in order to survive. So connection stands on the same list of essentials — right alongside security.
→ So, the right hemisphere is responsible for both safety and connection.
What If the Connection Is Unsafe?
If both safety and connection are essential, what happens when the person you need to connect with is also the source of fear or danger?
This is the impossible situation many children find themselves in. The adult is the only available source of connection — but the relationship doesn’t feel safe. It may be abusive, physically or emotionally, or marked by rejection, coldness, or unpredictability. So how does the brain respond to this? What does it prioritize?
There have been enough experiments and clinical observations to make one thing painfully clear: when forced to choose between safety and an unsafe connection, a child will choose connection. The child will stay in the unsafe connection and choose a strategy to cope with it. Very often, this leads to the development of a strong internal belief that there is no choice. And the most common strategy the child uses to survive this paradox is to disconnect emotionally.
This is the impossible situation many children find themselves in. The adult is the only available source of connection — but the relationship doesn’t feel safe. It may be abusive, physically or emotionally, or marked by rejection, coldness, or unpredictability. So how does the brain respond to this? What does it prioritize?
There have been enough experiments and clinical observations to make one thing painfully clear: when forced to choose between safety and an unsafe connection, a child will choose connection. The child will stay in the unsafe connection and choose a strategy to cope with it. Very often, this leads to the development of a strong internal belief that there is no choice. And the most common strategy the child uses to survive this paradox is to disconnect emotionally.
→ A small child will almost always choose connection over security. Even if that connection is dangerous.
So, what about the adult?
In childhood, this choice was a matter of survival. But as adults, we can usually survive on our own — so what does the adult brain choose?
And here we face a biological paradox: we are constantly torn between protecting ourselves from the people we love and staying connected to them. And if we experienced unsafe connection in the past — if we grew up with trauma bonds — in this paradox, we will often make a choice that ends up hurting us.
And this is not a problem to be solved — it’s a state we have to live with. A paradox is a tension that needs managing, not resolving. Sometimes it’s almost impossible to choose one side, especially when the brain continues to treat both connection and safety as equally vital.
And here we face a biological paradox: we are constantly torn between protecting ourselves from the people we love and staying connected to them. And if we experienced unsafe connection in the past — if we grew up with trauma bonds — in this paradox, we will often make a choice that ends up hurting us.
And this is not a problem to be solved — it’s a state we have to live with. A paradox is a tension that needs managing, not resolving. Sometimes it’s almost impossible to choose one side, especially when the brain continues to treat both connection and safety as equally vital.
That’s why this is one of the reasons — not the only one, of course — why we stay in abusive relationships. From the outside, it often looks clear. But for the person inside, it’s not a question of clarity. We bring into this “solution” not only our fears, our financial situation, or hopes — we also bring our neurobiology. The strategies wired into us long before we had language. And that’s why the simple advice — “Just leave” or “Run away” — rarely works. Because the brain isn’t choosing based on what’s healthy. It’s choosing based on what once helped us survive.
There are no quick fixes here. No one-size-fits-all answers. It’s long-term work — to see, to understand, and to slowly adopt a new strategy that allows us to manage the paradox, rather than be driven by it.
There are no quick fixes here. No one-size-fits-all answers. It’s long-term work — to see, to understand, and to slowly adopt a new strategy that allows us to manage the paradox, rather than be driven by it.
Sometimes this paradox doesn’t just confuse you — it tears you apart.
Because both sides feel so true.
But you don’t have to decide alone, choosing between two sides.
There may be a better choice — one you simply can’t see yet.
Because both sides feel so true.
But you don’t have to decide alone, choosing between two sides.
There may be a better choice — one you simply can’t see yet.
This is what coaching is for.
Book your free call HERE with me and find out if it can help you too.
Book your free call HERE with me and find out if it can help you too.
Maria Klyukina, Relationship Coach
