The Justice Trap: When Letting Go Feels Like Betrayal

Letting go is not betrayal, it releases you and them.

 Some of the hardest jobs in policing aren’t the dangerous ones — they’re the unfair ones.

The jobs where a child is hurt.
Where a serious offender walks free.
Where someone innocent dies and there’s no justice at all.

From the time we’re kids, we’re told that good wins and bad loses — that life is fair. But then you join the job and find out the hard way that it’s not. And part of you pushes back against that reality — hard. You can’t let it be true. Because if the world really is that unfair, then how do you live with such injustice?

That’s where some people get stuck. Not just stuck in trauma — but stuck in a kind of moral pain that won’t let them move forward.

You’re Not Just Hurt — You’re In a Bind

If you’ve got strong values — and most good cops do — then confronting injustice is more than upsetting. It’s destabilising. It violates something core in you.

Especially when it involves the death or torture of someone innocent, like a child.

The trauma is real. But what makes it worse is something deeper:

The belief that you shouldn’t let go. That letting go of the pain means what happened is somehow okay.

You want to feel better. You want to sleep, to stop snapping, to be a decent parent or partner again.
But there’s another part of you that won’t allow it.

Because that part of you thinks:
If I stop hurting, it’s like I’ve accepted that what happened was okay.
And I never will.

This Is The Justice Trap

We call this internal conflict The Justice Trap. It works like this:

• You believe the world should be fair.
• You saw something that proves it isn’t.
• You can’t change what happened.
• So the only thing left is to hold on to the pain — to carry it as a kind of protest, a moral stand.

That pain becomes symbolic.
Letting it go feels like betrayal — like you’re saying what happened didn’t matter.

But you didn’t choose this position. It’s usually subconscious.
Your system resists healing, not because you don’t want to get better — but because letting go feels disloyal.

Why Therapy Sometimes Stops Working

This moral block often only becomes obvious during trauma processing. People don’t desensitise. They emotionally detach, or get overwhelmed. It’s like the feelings loop and intensify rather than settle.

If this block isn’t recognised, trauma recovery stalls. Some people burn out. Others slip into deeper chaos — drinking more, withdrawing, feeling flat and disconnected.

You’re Not Crazy — You’re Moral and Loyal

If this feels familiar, you’re not weak.
You’re moral and loyal.

You believed in justice. You still do. And you’re trying to stay loyal to what mattered — to the person who was hurt or killed — by not letting the pain fade.

But here’s the problem: staying in pain doesn’t fix anything.
It doesn’t help the victim.
And it’s wrecking you.

There’s Another Way to Honour the Dead

Some cultures believe that if the living hold too tightly to grief and pain, it can trap the soul of the person who died — stopping them from finding peace.
The idea is that neither the dead nor the living can move on if the pain is clung to too tightly.

Whether you believe that literally or not, the message is the same:

Holding on might feel loyal, but it serves no one.
Not the person who died.
Not their memory.
And not you.

Moral Reframing

This kind of work involves stepping back and asking:

• Does my pain equal love?
• Can I let go of suffering without letting go of the memory?
• Can I soften the values that no longer serve — not because I’m okay with injustice, but because I recognise the reality of it?

The world isn’t fair.
And the innocent often bear the cost.
That doesn’t mean you stop caring — it means you stop destroying yourself trying to carry all of it alone.

Instead of suffering endlessly as a memorial, you start to live in a way that says:
They mattered. And I won’t let what happened to them destroy me too.

If this resonates with you, you’re not alone — and you’re not beyond help.

There’s a way to move forward that still honours what you saw, what you felt, and who you lost — without having to carry pain forever.

It starts by recognising the trap.
Then choosing to honour the fallen — not by suffering, but by living with purpose.

Where to From Here?

If this hit home for you, here’s what to do next:

1. Name the Trap
Start by recognising if you’re stuck in it.
Say it plainly:

“I’m stuck in the Justice Trap. My morals won’t let me let them go. That keeps me stuck here.”

Ask yourself:

“Am I holding on to this pain because I think letting go means betrayal — and that would be one more injustice? But is that just to me?”

2. Separate Pain from Loyalty
Let go of the idea that your suffering is proof that you cared.
Remind yourself:

“I can honour the victim without crucifying myself.”

This might involve writing a letter to the victim — even if just in your head like a prayer, or better still, written carefully out like a letter you’ll never send.
It helps make your thoughts crystal clear and honours their soul. You might say:

“...I’m so sorry that the world is unfair. I’ve been holding you with pain, carrying this as a way of showing it mattered. But I’m beginning to realise that this is not what you’d want — another tortured soul as your memorial...”

3. Start the Reframe
Try saying:

“What happened was wrong. It still matters. But I need to carry it differently — so I can release you, and you can release me.”

This is the beginning of moral reframing — shifting from suffering as loyalty to something more sustainable.
You don’t stop caring. You just stop letting it destroy you.

4. Talk to Someone Who Gets It
Whether it’s a peer, a police savvy psychologist, or someone else who’s been there — you don’t need to do this alone. Letting go might feel like a betrayal, it's not.
Find someone who can walk you through this bind without invalidating what happened.
This isn’t about “moving on.” It’s about moving differently.

5. Honour Through Action and pay the lesson forward
Live in a way that says they mattered.
You might have peers in the same boat — share the insight with them. Say it out loud.

That might mean mentoring someone younger, or simply staying alive and engaged — because you refuse to let what happened take one more life.