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Understanding Childhood Emotional Neglect

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What does childhood trauma look like? 

Trauma is a bruise hidden under long sleeves. It is a  brown paper lunch bag with nothing inside. It lives behind the eyes of the withdrawn child who rarely speaks. A missing coat or no shoes on a wintry day can be a telltale indication. There are many detectable signs of childhood trauma. But there is one particular type that is largely unrecognizable. Because it has no obvious physical markers, childhood emotional neglect has been slow to receive the attention it deserves.

 

In a respectable house in a suburban neighborhood, there is lush grass where a cat excitedly chases a grasshopper. There is a mother inside fixing dinner, and a dad who is away at work. Their clean, nicely dressed children often go outside to play with the neighborhood kids or to ride their bikes. The sun shines brightly and the spring flowers are beginning to bloom.

 

This is not the opening scene of a Disney movie, or the beginning of a colorfully illustrated picture book. This is the unlikely setting for this often overlooked form of childhood trauma. Yet it is there, camouflaged by a picture perfect venue.

 

This was my house.

 

In its stealthy form, emotional neglect can be difficult to validate but easy to deny. Meanwhile, the acute and lasting effects fly quietly under the radar where they fester and multiply.

 

What constitutes emotional neglect?                                                           

While it’s effects have only been widely discussed in more recent years, emotional neglect occurs when a child does not receive the emotional or psychological support needed to develop a healthy sense of self. Their emotional needs are deemed invalid, and their need for affection and support is dismissed.

 

Affected children carry the ramifications into adulthood, where compromised self-esteem and lack of trust lead to instability in all varieties of interpersonal relationships. They tend toward people pleasing in an effort to prove their worth and often suppress emotions to avoid the discomfort associated with them. They may develop unhealthy coping mechanisms to manage their pain and are often withdrawn or introverted. Anxiety and depression are also common outcomes.

 

Emotional neglect can be unintentional, but can also be the result of a toxic environment. When this is the case, the behavior is blatant and there is little to no accountability by the offender.

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From a place of knowing

I couldn’t help myself. I put on the cap and gown, properly adorned with the red tassle, and paraded around my apartment in preparation for my college graduation ceremony. It was an exciting time  for me as I looked ahead to the beginning of a new phase of my bona fide, “grown up” life.
 
I picked up the phone to call my parents, who lived on the opposite side of the country, to share my exhilaration and the details for the ceremony. As I rattled off dates, times and plans for the big day, my mother interrupted with an indignant retort. “I can’t believe you are even asking us to come. You know I don’t like to fly. You are so fucking selfish.”
 
I can’t remember how I responded, if I did at all. Thinking about it today, more than 25 years later, is still like a punch in the gut.
 
While my mother had flown many times throughout my life, her fear of flying was a new development at that time. I did not take this into consideration before extending the invitation. Maybe I was selfish. It never occurred to me that they wouldn’t come to my graduation. But they didn’t. And not long after, they were taking trips to Europe, my mother having made an apparent recovery from her phobia.
 
In a stilted attempt to justify her reaction, she sent me a letter to explain that she was jealous of me. Specifically, of my accomplishments and my youth. I guess it wasn’t about flying after all.
 

Reconciling with the reality

Even now, as a parent – maybe even more so because I’m a parent – I cannot fathom such callous dismissal of my children’s feelings, achievements and their desire to make me proud. To feel anything other than bursting pride at my kids’ successes, watching them grow into respectful, kind and just generally amazing humans is one of the most poignant joys of my life. Wild horses couldn’t keep me from celebrating every meaningful accomplishment with them. To be jealous of your children, for any reason, is indicative of an egocentricity that cannot coexist with love and respect.
 
I have endless examples of similar interactions with my mother. Almost all of them end with the same indifference to the damage and pain she was causing. 
 

Many memories have resurfaced for me in recent years. While not always pleasant, the benefit is that they have enabled me to piece together a rational explanation for the extreme anxiety and compulsive behaviors that began in childhood and still plague me today. It also accounts for the depression that has come to play in adulthood. Finally, a logical explanation for all the years of wondering what was wrong with me. I now understand the workings of childhood emotional trauma and its role in my past.

 

As for my dad’s role in this developmental phase of my childhood, he did nothing to protect us from my mom’s contemptuous attacks. In this way, he was an inauspicious accomplice. I have come to realize that not only did his behaviors enable hers, but that his more engaging and seemingly loving behaviors were not so much to compensate for my mother’s shortcomings, as they were a form of guilty retribution for his own disgraceful misdeeds.

 

Acceptance and repair

There was no falling out or deliberate finale to pinpoint the end of my relationship with my parents. They simply stopped reaching out. And, as it turns out, it facilitated the clean break that I desperately needed.

 

In the many years since I last spoke to my parents, my husband battled stage 4 non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, I gave birth to my third child, and we experienced the devastating losses of my beloved mother-in-law and my grandmother. We celebrated countless birthdays and graduations. My parents never acknowledged any of these noteworthy events and milestones, in spite of their awareness through the family grape vine. They do not know their grandchildren and have never expressed any interest in getting to know them. (I would never refuse them that opportunity as long as my children were willing.)

 

While I find this extremely sad, I am at peace with the state of things. I have been relieved of the heartbreak and pain that was always present just by allowing the relationship to persist. While I am still recovering from all it’s adverse effects, I have every reason to revel in my progress and celebrate the life I have created for myself.

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As an adult, you are finally able to absolve yourself of the offending circumstances, an option that is sadly not available to you as a child. You are no longer obliged to tolerate that which makes you insignificant. You can take the valuable lessons you have learned and build a beautiful life that is a shining representation of your incredible worth.

 

For the record, I attended my oldest son’s college graduation and could not have been more proud to be there to honor his achievements. It was one of my proudest parenting moments. And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Me (Jenny) with my son, Tristan, at his college graduation. Understanding childhood emotional neglect.
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Steve
Steve
3 months ago

Hey, thanks! I had a terrible childhood. My mother is very selfish and a liar. I feel like narcissist is an overused word, however it may apply to her. She would also use my father as her enforcer. I never really had an understanding of who I was until my late 30s. I do still struggle and even though I’m married and happy most days, it can still be lonely. Thanks for opening up.