Why We Love to Be Betrayed - The Psychology of Suspense
- Jen Sequel
- Apr 14
- 3 min read

Suspense thrills us. It grips us in the pages of a book, the dim glow of a movie screen, or the unraveling of a carefully spun television drama. But have you ever wondered why we’re so addicted to that white-knuckle tension, the creeping dread, the sudden twist that leaves us breathless? Stranger still—why do we love being betrayed by the very stories we trust?
The psychology of suspense tells us that deep within our brains, there's a secret thrill in being deceived… on purpose.
The Pleasure of Anticipation
At its core, suspense is about expectation—a conflict between what we think will happen and what might happen. We anticipate outcomes, make predictions, and grow attached to certain characters or plotlines. Neuroscientists have found that during suspenseful scenes, the brain releases dopamine, the same chemical involved in pleasure and reward. That tension between knowing and not knowing becomes almost addictive.
We enjoy the buildup because it mimics the natural rhythm of real-life stress—but in a safe space. A good story lets us experience danger without the consequences. Our heart races, but we’re still curled up in bed or sitting safely in a theater.
The Betrayal Twist
So what happens when the story betrays us? When the killer isn’t who we thought? When the heroine turns out to be the villain? That’s when the betrayal effect kicks in.
Psychologically, betrayal in fiction creates a rush of surprise, outrage, and reprocessing. Our brains are wired to seek patterns, so when a story flips the script, we’re forced to reevaluate everything we thought we knew. This mental reorganization is deeply stimulating. It’s like solving a puzzle in reverse—we go back, analyze clues, and marvel at what we missed.
Authors like Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl) or directors like M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense) are masters of this. They set up a world of rules, let us feel safe in those boundaries, and then delightfully pull the rug out from under us.
We don’t just want to be surprised—we want to be tricked. But it has to be earned.
Safe Danger and Emotional Catharsis
Suspense also allows us to confront fear, betrayal, and loss from a distance. Psychologist Dr. Glenn D. Walters wrote that suspenseful stories tap into our primal fears: the fear of harm, the fear of the unknown, and the fear of being out of control.
But because we know it’s fiction, we’re granted emotional catharsis without the actual trauma. It’s a rollercoaster built on trust. We want to be scared. We want the twist. And when that twist is a betrayal, it intensifies the emotional release.
We come out the other side exhilarated, saying things like, “I never saw that coming,” or “I feel like I’ve been lied to in the best way.”
The Paradox of Predictability
Interestingly, suspense also plays with our need for predictability. There’s an odd paradox at play: we want to be surprised, but not too surprised. A good suspense story walks a tightrope—feeding us just enough information to keep us engaged, while withholding the truth long enough to make the payoff worthwhile.
Betrayal in storytelling works best when it feels both shocking and inevitable. When we reach the twist and say, “Of course! How did I not see that?” that’s when the magic happens.
In Conclusion: We Love It Because It Hurts So Good
Suspenseful stories, with their betrayals and misdirections, tap into something deeply human. They challenge our assumptions, play with our emotions, and offer a playground for fear and excitement.
In truth, we love to be betrayed—as long as it’s fictional. Because betrayal, in the hands of a skilled storyteller, isn’t just a twist. It’s a gift. It reminds us that the world is unpredictable, complex, and beautifully deceptive.
And we can’t help but turn the page.
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