When They Didn’t See You: Healing Childhood Emotional Neglect and Coming Home to Yourself
So many of us carry invisible wounds from the people who were supposed to see us first and love us best. When that love is missing, we learn to shrink. We learn to stay quiet. We learn to give and give until there is nothing left for ourselves.
This piece is for the child inside you who still longs to be seen and for the adult who is ready to come home.
When the Ones Who Should Have Seen You Didn’t
There is something that happens when the people who were supposed to see you first never really did. It shapes you in ways you do not even know until one day your body whispers no more and your heart cracks open to show you everything you buried just to survive.
I know my parents did the best they could with what they knew. They came from their own stories, their own wounds, their own missing pieces of love. This is not to blame them. This is to see clearly, so I can love them for who they are and love myself for who I am becoming.
When the Body Speaks
For me, it came quietly.
My body was tired all the time.
Bone tired.
Eyes burning tired.
Spirit tired in a way no nap could fix.
I thought maybe I was just overdoing it.
I thought maybe I just needed to push a little more.
Try harder.
Be stronger.
Pretend better.
Then the blood tests came back.
Critical anemia.
A body starved of what it needs to keep moving.
A body begging for rest.
A body telling the truth my mouth was too afraid to speak.
The Love That Didn’t Come the Way I Needed
When I found out what was happening in my body I thought maybe my mother would soften. I told her the words the doctor gave me. I hoped maybe she would hold me the way I have always longed for her to hold me.
She did not. She brushed it off, maybe because she did not know what else to say. Maybe because this is how she learned to handle pain, to stay busy, to keep moving, to not feel too much at once. I know now she did the best she could with what she was given. But my body still needed more.
I told my father. Not really told him but I tried. He did not ask how I felt. He asked what needed to be done. Another thing to fix. Another thing to carry for him while my body could barely carry itself.
Yet he has always been there when something needed doing. Always showing love through action. For that I am grateful. As a child I sometimes wished for softness too. A kind of holding you cannot build or buy or repair. That was not his fault. It was just where our hearts did not always meet.
When I hung up the phone I sat in the quiet. I realized it was never just about this new word from the doctor. It was not really about my tired blood. It was about the part of me that always wanted to be seen and held in the moments that mattered most. It was about the ache that has lived in me far longer than any test result.
The Child Inside
I felt my eyes burn. I felt the tears pressing at the back of my throat. I asked myself why does this hurt so much. But I already knew.
It hurt because the same child inside me still wants to be seen. Still wants to be held. Still wants to be loved just for existing.
All my life I have poured love outward. I have held everyone else’s pieces together. I have made myself useful so no one would throw me away. I have stayed quiet about what I need because I thought maybe if I stayed small enough no one would leave.
I see now how deep that wound runs. I see now why love feels so impossible sometimes. How can I open my hands to receive when they have always been busy holding up the sky for someone else. How can I trust that softness will stay when softness never stayed before.
The Turning Point
Something in me is tired of pretending I am fine. Something in me is tired of being useful while I am starving inside. Something in me wants to learn what it means to hold myself the way I always needed to be held.
I write this not because I want pity. Not because I want eyes on me for the sake of attention. I write this because writing reminds me I exist.
Writing is how I sit with the child inside me and say
You do not have to disappear anymore.
You do not have to earn love anymore.
You do not have to hold everyone else while no one holds you.
Maybe You Know Too
Maybe you are reading this and you feel your own chest tighten. Maybe you know exactly what I mean. Maybe you have your own memories. Your own moments when you felt invisible in the rooms where you were supposed to feel safest.
Maybe you learned to shrink too. To hush your pain so it would not make others uncomfortable. To be good so no one would leave you behind.
I want you to know this. You are not alone in this ache. You are not the only one who wakes up tired of pretending you are okay when you are not. You are not the only one who wonders if love is real or if you will ever feel it without strings attached.
This Is Your Permission
You do not need to spend another lifetime trying to earn what should have been given freely. You do not need to waste yourself holding what does not belong to you anymore. You do not need to hand your heart over to people who do not know how to hold it.
This is your permission. Your reminder. Your seed of healing planted right here in these words.
You can come home to yourself. You can be the one who sees you. You can be the one who says
I see you.
I love you.
I will not leave you when you cry.
I will not leave you when you say no.
I will not leave you when you rest.
I will not leave you when you ask for more.
Come Home
Place your hand on your chest right now. Close your eyes. Say it softly to yourself
I see you.
Say it again
I love you.
Let your breath slow. Let the tears come if they need to. They are not weakness. They are water for the seeds inside you that have waited so long to grow.
Ask that small part of you what it needs to hear from you right now. Say it out loud. Say it again tomorrow. Say it until you believe it. Say it until you no longer feel like a stranger to your own heart.
This is my therapy. My offering. My truth laid bare so you can see your own. So you do not have to carry your wounds alone in the dark anymore. So you do not have to keep searching for someone else to fix what is already alive inside you.
I know now this is not about blame. This is not about what they could not give. This is about what I am learning to give myself. This is the contrast that taught me how to love bigger. This is the absence that showed me how precious presence really is.
You do not need permission to feel whole. You do not need permission to let the old pain fall away. You do not need to stay small to keep the peace.
You are here. You are seen. You are loved.
Take these words. Let them root inside you. Water them every time you breathe.
Come home to yourself. You are enough. And you always were.
Come Rest. Come Remember. Come Home.
May these words remind you: you are not alone. If your heart longs for a safe place to rest and remember, you are welcome here. At Yin Yang Healing Arts, we hold this space for you to come home to yourself, to your breath, your body, and your truth.
Come home when you are ready. You are enough. An you always were.
The Path to Trust: Releasing the Weight of Waiting
"A moment of waiting: the longing of a child, filled with hope and anticipation."
In the stillness of a recent meditation, a childhood memory resurfaced—a moment so vivid it seemed to whisper into my present experience. I was about 11 years old, deeply connected to someone I admired: a cousin or perhaps an aunt, whose presence filled my world with warmth and inspiration. In my eyes, she was the most beautiful being on the planet, radiating joy with every smile. I longed to be near her. One day, she promised to take my sister and me somewhere special. I don’t remember where, but the destination was never the point; it was the promise of time with her that I clung to.
Eagerly, I waited by the basement window, peeking out every few minutes, my heart racing with hope that her car would soon pull up. But as the minutes turned into hours, the realization sank in—she wasn’t coming. The disappointment from that day is a wound I unknowingly carried for years, shaping my relationship with trust. I learned to brace myself, to expect disappointment before it even arrived, as the sound of silence settled around me.
Now, as I revisit this memory as an adult, I see how much it has threaded itself into my life. Whenever I find myself waiting—whether for someone to follow through on a promise or for a situation to unfold—I feel that familiar surge of anxiety. My body remembers that moment of being let down, the tightness in my chest as I stood there, hope battling against disappointment.
But through yoga, meditation, and energy work, I’m beginning to understand that waiting isn’t the enemy I once thought it was. Waiting can be a sacred space. It’s an opportunity to practice patience and to trust not only others but also the flow of life itself. In yoga, we’re taught to surrender—to the breath, to the movement, to the present moment. Just as I wait for the next inhale to come without forcing it, so too must I learn to trust the timing of life’s unfolding.
Energy work has revealed how tightly held past disappointments can create blockages in our energy. These blockages manifest as anxiety and resistance to trusting others or the natural course of events. When we cling to control, we restrict our flow. However, when we release those past hurts—when we let go of the need to dictate outcomes—we create space for deeper connection, for healing, and for growth.
Trusting is never easy, especially when life has repeatedly taught us to expect otherwise. But trust, like yoga, is a practice. It’s something we cultivate by showing up for ourselves, by sitting with our emotions without judgment, and by releasing the fear that things won’t unfold as we hope. In energy work, we learn that the more we resist, the more we close ourselves off from healing. The more we surrender, the more we open to the flow of energy and life.
If waiting has taught me anything, it’s that life often brings us what we need in ways we never expect. Sometimes, what we’re waiting for doesn’t arrive in the form we imagined. But in trusting the process, we often receive something even more valuable—a deeper lesson, a clearer path, a moment of transformation.
As I continue to release the part of me that fears waiting—the part that clings to control—I remind myself that trust is not about outcomes. It’s about allowing life to unfold in its own time, knowing that even when things don’t go as planned, something meaningful is always making its way to me.
Reflecting on your own experiences, how have you navigated the weight of waiting? What lessons have emerged from the moments you felt let down? Together, let’s embrace the beauty of trusting the journey.
“Finding peace in the present: learning to trust the unfolding of life”
#Trust, #EmotionalHealing, #MindfulnessMatters
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The Unseen Conversations:
Bridging the Mind, Body, and Emotional Self Through Therapeutic Touch
In the tranquil retreat of a massage room, where healing hands connect with the physical form, there unfolds an unspoken dialogue—a dance of energies, emotions, and profound realizations. It is here, in the stillness of therapeutic touch, that the emotional body often speaks louder than words, revealing hidden truths that lie beneath the surface.
An Unexpected Emotional Release
Recently, during a massage session, I experienced an intense and unexpected emotional release. As the practitioner’s hands gently circled around my lower back and iliac crest, a powerful wave of jealousy surged through me. This wasn’t just an emotional reaction—it was a full-body experience. My muscles tensed, my breath quickened, and a deep tremor resonated within me, as if I were undergoing an exorcism of sorts—a visceral purge of long-buried energy.
In that moment, I was not merely receiving touch; I became a vessel through which unresolved emotions and unspoken truths were making themselves known. The jealousy I felt wasn’t directed at the practitioner or even related to a specific event. Instead, it was a recognition of energies intertwining in a way that highlighted a shift I had felt but hadn’t fully acknowledged until that instant.
Understanding the Emotional Body as a Guidance System
Our emotional body is an intricate and often misunderstood aspect of our being. It serves as a guidance system, alerting us to moments of alignment or misalignment with our true selves, our deeper purpose, and the energies that surround us. Emotions like jealousy, anger, or sadness are not mere inconveniences; they are messengers, guiding us toward areas in our lives that require attention, healing, or boundaries.
During that massage, the surge of jealousy wasn’t about the practitioner’s touch—it was about the energetic imprint of someone else’s presence that seemed to be interwoven with hers. It was as if I could sense another person’s energy through her hands, making me acutely aware of an energetic disconnect. My emotional body was signaling an imbalance—an unseen shift in a connection that I valued, prompting a profound emotional response.
The Interconnectedness of Touch and Emotional Awareness
Therapeutic touch extends far beyond the physical; it is an energetic exchange capable of unlocking deeply held emotions, memories, and stories. Our skin, muscles, and bones are not just physical structures—they are repositories of our lived experiences, often holding onto feelings that our conscious minds may not yet be ready to confront. When touched with intention and presence, these layers can reveal powerful truths.
In my experience, the physical touch acted as a catalyst for emotional revelation, reminding me that every touch carries its own energetic signature. Our bodies are perceptive instruments, continuously reading and responding to the energy of others. This interconnectedness of the mind, body, and emotional self is what makes therapeutic touch so transformative. It allows us to access and process emotions that might otherwise remain hidden, influencing our behaviors and well-being in ways we may not fully understand.
Cultivating a Relationship with Your Emotional Body
To navigate the complexities of our emotional body, it’s essential to develop a relationship with it—one rooted in trust, curiosity, and compassion. Begin by acknowledging your emotions as they arise, without judgment or the impulse to suppress them. Understand that emotions are not the enemy; they are guides, highlighting where your attention and care are needed.
Engage in practices that help you connect with your emotional body, such as mindful meditation, journaling, or breathwork. Before a bodywork session, set an intention to remain open to whatever surfaces, trusting that your emotional body is a wise guide on your journey. Pay attention to the physical sensations that accompany your emotions—tightness in your chest, a flutter in your stomach, or warmth spreading across your shoulders. These signals are your emotional body’s way of communicating with you.
Reclaiming the Wisdom Within: A Powerful Conclusion
The journey to understanding ourselves on a deeper level begins with the willingness to listen—to the mind, the body, and the emotional self. Our emotional body is not a passive recipient of the external world but an active participant in guiding us toward our truth. It knows when we are in alignment with our highest selves and when we are straying from our path. By tuning into this innate wisdom, we can navigate life with greater clarity, authenticity, and purpose.
Whether through therapeutic touch or the quiet moments of self-reflection, allow yourself to fully feel and explore what your emotional body reveals. Trust that every emotion, no matter how uncomfortable, is a step toward deeper self-awareness and healing. By cultivating this connection with your inner self, you transform from merely reacting to the world around you to actively engaging with the rich, intricate dialogue within.
Your emotional body is your ally, your compass. Embrace it, listen to it, and let it guide you to the profound depths of who you truly are. The power to connect with your inner self lies within your hands, through the gentle and intentional act of listening to the subtle, yet potent, voice of your emotional body. Let us touch not just the surface, but the soul—where true transformation begins.
#EmotionalAwareness, #MindBodyConnection, #HealingThroughTouch