What About Mutual Harm?

Some relationships don’t fit the typical story of harm. There isn’t one person who was clearly in control, and one person who was clearly powerless. There isn’t one neat villain. There isn’t one perfect survivor. Sometimes the harm felt mutual, overlapping, impossible to untangle. And yet, it still left scars.

This page is for people who’ve asked themselves:
What if we both hurt each other?
What if we were both trying our best, and still did damage?
What if I was reacting to harm while causing my own?
What if I don’t know where I stand?

This kind of reflection is often discouraged. Many resources lean toward binaries. But queer relationships, especially under pressure, don’t always follow clean scripts. That doesn’t mean we avoid responsibility. It means we make space for complexity, without losing clarity, care, or accountability.

When the Roles Aren’t Clear

Mutual harm doesn’t mean things were equal. It means more than one person used tactics that caused pain, fear, confusion, or emotional fallout. You might have had different reasons, different triggers, different power. But both of you walked away hurt.

Maybe you yelled. Maybe they shut down. Maybe you lied. Maybe they manipulated. Maybe you both crossed lines you didn’t expect yourselves to. Maybe you apologised. Maybe they didn’t.

Mutual harm is not the same as “mutual abuse.” That term is often used to discredit survivors, and it rarely captures what’s really going on. But naming mutual harm honestly can help you see your part, and theirs, without erasing the full story.

What Mutual Harm Can Look Like

  • Cycles of escalation where both people raised the stakes

  • Apologising constantly but never actually changing behaviour

  • Retaliating instead of communicating

  • Weaponising trauma, identity, or history

  • Blurring boundaries around privacy, autonomy, or space

  • Taking turns in emotional caretaking and emotional withdrawal

  • One person being physically aggressive, the other being emotionally cruel

  • One person collapsing, the other controlling

  • Codependence that leaves no room for disagreement

You don’t need to relate to all of this. But if some of it feels familiar, you’re not alone.

When Context Still Matters

Even when harm is shared, power can still be uneven.

Ask yourself:

  • Who had more access to safety, money, housing, or support?

  • Who was more likely to be believed by friends or services?

  • Who shaped how others saw the relationship?

  • Who took up more space during conflict, and who collapsed first?

  • Who had more control over when things started and stopped?

This isn’t about assigning blame. It’s about understanding the forces that shaped your dynamic. It’s about recognising what was yours to hold, and what wasn’t.

If You Were Both in Survival Mode

Many queer relationships happen in survival. We are navigating trauma, oppression, medical harm, family estrangement, housing stress, and collective grief - all while trying to build intimacy.

When both people are dysregulated, overwhelmed, or unsupported, it’s easy to slip into patterns that hurt each other. That doesn’t make it okay. But it can explain how it happened.

You might both have needed more than you could give. You might have had good intentions, and still caused harm. You might not have known what a healthy relationship looked like.

You can hold that truth without excusing it. Understanding context is part of accountability, not a way around it.

What Accountability Looks Like in Complex Situations

If you’re trying to reflect on harm—yours or theirs—without clear labels, here’s where you can begin:

  • Be honest about the things you said or did that caused pain

  • Resist the urge to justify it with “but they did this too”

  • Stay open to the idea that they were also harmed

  • Avoid measuring who was “worse”

  • Notice how your patterns show up in other relationships

  • Get support that doesn’t just affirm you, but challenges you

  • Take responsibility without turning it into shame

Accountability is still possible even when the roles are blurred. It just requires more care, more reflection, and more willingness to hold contradictions.

If the Relationship Is Over

You don’t need to stay in connection to take responsibility. You don’t need to share every insight with them to make it count. Some repair can only happen in how you move forward.

That might mean:

  • Learning new ways to regulate in conflict

  • Letting go of relationships that only reinforce old patterns

  • Choosing different dynamics with future partners

  • Practising boundaries earlier and more clearly

  • Naming things you didn’t have the language for before

Healing doesn’t mean reconciling. It means interrupting what’s no longer serving you—or them.

If You’re Still in It

If the relationship is ongoing, and you both want to change, that’s possible; but it’s not guaranteed.

You’ll need:

  • A shared understanding that something isn’t working

  • A commitment to accountability on both sides

  • Safe outside support (not just relying on each other)

  • Clarity on what repair and safety look like for each of you

  • A willingness to stop the cycle, even if it means stepping back

Some relationships are repairable. Some aren’t. What matters is whether there’s room for honesty, consent, and actual change—not just intentions.

You’re Allowed to Name What Was True

You’re allowed to say:

  • I was hurt

  • I hurt someone

  • I don’t know which came first

  • I want to do better

  • I still don’t fully understand what happened

  • I’m not the person I was then

  • I want a different way forward

You’re allowed to feel confused and still take responsibility.
You’re allowed to feel hurt and still choose to grow.
You’re allowed to hold complexity without using it to avoid clarity.

If You Want Support

You don’t have to be in crisis. You don’t need the right words. You just have to want something different.

  • Rainbow DV Helpline (24/7): 1800 497 212

  • 1800RESPECT: 1800 737 732

  • QLife (3pm–midnight): 1800 184 527

  • A therapist, peer worker, or friend who can hold contradiction with care

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When You’ve Hurt Someone: Reflecting Without Collapse