You don’t remember the exact moment it happened.

There was no dramatic scene. No loud explosion. Just a subtle shift—a look, a word, a silence that landed deeper than anyone realized.

And yet, here you are. Thirty, forty, fifty years later… still reacting to something your mind can’t fully name.

That’s how childhood wounds work.
They don’t always leave visible scars.
But they echo.

They echo in the way you flinch when someone raises their voice.
In how you shut down when you need to speak up.
In the way you over-give, overthink, over-apologize.
In how hard it is to trust—others, yourself, the world.

Most people think trauma means a big event: abuse, neglect, violence.
But trauma can be quiet.
It can be a parent who only loved you when you performed.
A teacher who humiliated you in front of the class.
A sibling who always made you feel small.
A caretaker who meant well but didn’t really see you.

And when you're a child, you don't have perspective.
You don’t think, “This adult is projecting their pain.”
You think, “This must be my fault.”
You internalize it.
And that belief system becomes the blueprint.

You grow up, but that inner child stays frozen in the moment they first felt unworthy.
And unless you revisit that place—not to relive it, but to rewrite it—you stay stuck.

You may be a capable adult on the outside…
But on the inside, that same question whispers:
Am I enough?

Healing isn’t about blame.
It’s about recognition.
You name what happened, so it no longer controls you from the shadows.
You stop waiting for the apology that never came.
You give yourself the validation you were always craving.

Because you’re not broken.
You were conditioned.
And what was learned can be unlearned.

The wounds weren’t your fault.
But the healing is your responsibility.
Not because it’s fair.
But because freedom feels better than the pain you’ve been carrying.

This isn’t about fixing yourself.
It’s about remembering who you were before you were taught to doubt it.

You are not too much.
You are not too needy.
You are not too sensitive.
You are simply still holding the pain of a child who needed more love and didn’t know how to ask.

You don’t need to go back and change the past.
You just need to go back and change what you believe about it.

You’re safe to let go now.
You’re allowed to feel good.
You’re allowed to be free.