The Psychology of Flying Monkeys:
Why Every Abuser Has an Audience
There is a moment in every unhealthy relationship when the story stops being about two people and quietly becomes a crowd.
This is what psychologists call flying monkeys. Individuals who defend, enable or deliver messages on behalf of someone causing harm. What makes this dynamic so confusing is that it rarely begins with hostility.
It begins with persuasion. Human behaviour spreads through networks long before it becomes visible and the same is true here. The danger is not only the abuser. It is the ecosystem that forms around them.
The first thing to understand is that silence is not neutral.
When someone shows no interest in hearing both sides, what you are seeing is confirmation bias. The tendency to seek information that protects what they already believe. Nedra Glover Tawwab, in her work on boundaries, notes that people who refuse new information are not trying to understand you.
They are trying to preserve the version of the story that benefits them. In a relationship, this can make you feel like the only witness to your own experience.
The second thing to watch for is outsourcing of harm.
When someone else delivers criticism, gossip or warnings “on their behalf,” it is a form of psychological triangulation. Instead of confronting you directly, your (ex) partner will recruit others to do the emotional labour.
Tawwab often describes this as a boundary violation wrapped in concern. It creates distance between you and the truth, while allowing the original person to avoid accountability.
The third pattern is the illusion of loyalty.
Flying monkeys believe they are protecting someone, but the psychology is more complex. Social identity theory tells us that people align themselves with those who offer belonging, even at the expense of fairness.
This is called the tipping point of influence. People do not defend abusers because they understand them. They defend them because they fear losing access, approval or status. As Tawwab writes, “not everyone who stands beside you is standing for you.”
The fourth sign is repetition presented as truth.
When the same story is told often enough, the brain experiences what psychologists call the illusory truth effect. You start questioning your memory, your reactions, even your sanity. This is where emotional erosion happens.
Not through shouting, but through doubt. You begin to apologise for things that never happened, simply because the narrative has been repeated more loudly than your reality has been heard.
The final and most painful pattern is the shift from witness to accomplice.
When someone minimises harm, covers for abusive behaviour or pressures you to “keep the peace,” they are participating in what behavioural scientists call passive collusion. Tawwab reminds us that conflict avoidance often masquerades as kindness.
But avoidance protects the abuser, not the relationship. The longer this dynamic continues, the more invisible your needs become.
If any of this feels familiar, the problem is not that you are too sensitive. The problem is that you have been surrounded by people who benefit from your silence.
Healing begins when you stop trying to convince those committed to misunderstanding you.
Protect your story.
Protect your peace.
Remember, healthy relationships do not require a supporting cast to make one person look good.
If this resonates, like, comment and share because the loudest voice is not always the truthful one and someone in your circle may need the reminder that clarity comes from evidence, not volume.
Your engagement could help them question the narrative instead of absorbing it.
