Embracing the Impact – It’s Not Just About What Happened
Hi Friends,
We all carry a past—but not all of us are ready to look at it.
I heard someone recently say that their childhood didn’t affect them at all.
But their patterns revealed something else—in the way they kept people at arm’s length, struggled to ask for support, and avoided anything that felt too vulnerable.
They weren’t “stuck in the past”—they were quietly run by it.
I recognized it because I’d been there.
I didn’t think I was being affected by my past—I just kept ending up in situations that left me feeling confused, frustrated, and wondering why things weren’t working.
I didn’t realize I was repeating a pattern. I just didn’t like the outcome.
Their story got me thinking about some of the reasons we might not recognize how our past still shapes us—because the truth is, we all carry something. Often, those echoes from the past are still shaping how we move through life—in the way we hold back, lash out, disconnect, or people-please.
This isn’t about blaming the past—it’s about recognizing its impact.
Sometimes we get stuck on the word trauma, thinking, “Well, I didn’t go through anything major. Maybe my childhood wasn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t call it traumatic. My parents/caregivers loved me and did their best.” But wounds from the past aren’t always caused by overt abuse or dramatic events. More important than the event itself is the impact it had on us. As Gabor Maté writes in The Myth of Normal:
“…trauma/injury is about what happens inside us, and how those effects persist, not what happens to us.”
For example, if you tried to share boundaries as a child and they were dismissed, you may have internalized the belief that your boundaries—or even your voice—don’t matter. And when we feel like our voice, needs, or feelings don’t matter, it affects our sense of emotional safety. As children, we depend on others to meet our needs—so when those needs aren't met or are dismissed, we may learn to suppress them in order to maintain connection. It’s not because we’re manipulative or dramatic. It’s survival. We trade authenticity for attachment, because our nervous system is wired to keep us close to those we rely on—even if that means abandoning parts of ourselves. Over time, that belief can quietly steer the way you show up in relationships, work, and even your relationship with yourself.
Sometimes we miss these patterns because we’re viewing the past through our current lens. As adults, we might logically understand that our caregivers were overwhelmed or did their best. From our grown-up perspective, certain comments or moments might not seem like a big deal. But what matters is the state we were in when the hurt happened. If we were a child, we didn’t yet have the emotional tools or brain development to process that moment. If we were already feeling overwhelmed by life circumstances, that hurt may have landed even deeper.
Another barrier I’ve run into is comparison—telling myself that others had it worse, so maybe I shouldn’t feel what I feel. Maybe my pain isn’t as valid. But this work isn’t a contest. We don’t need to measure our pain against anyone else’s.
When these barriers are present, they can prevent us from seeing the experiences that still echo through our lives. And when we don’t see them, that impact continues to call the shots—in the way we get defensive, in the way we avoid, in the way we react.
Some other common myths that can get in the way:
“My parents/caregivers were good people.”: They can be loving and still unintentionally cause harm.
“If I focus on the past, I’ll get stuck there.”: Often, it’s the avoidance that keeps us stuck.
“But it wasn’t that bad.”: If it left an imprint, it mattered.
“I should be over this by now.”: Healing doesn’t follow a timeline—it follows presence.
“If I name what hurt me, it means I’m blaming someone.”: This isn’t about blame—it’s about understanding.
When we explore these moments with compassion for the version of ourselves that experienced them, we begin to soften the hold they have on us. We can offer ourselves the presence that no one was able to at the time. This doesn’t mean we’ll never feel triggered again—but it does mean we can learn to recognize those moments and respond more intentionally.
We begin to loosen the grip of the past, not by erasing it, but by being willing to see it.
Here are five gentle reminders as you navigate this work:
You don’t have to prove your pain to anyone for it to be valid.
Just because you’re still affected doesn’t mean you’re broken.
You’re allowed to honour your past without staying in it.
Even good people can cause harm—and you can hold both truths.
You’re not alone in this. We all have something to heal.
You don’t need a dramatic story for something to have left a mark. If it impacted the way you show up, the way you see yourself, the way you relate—it’s worth tending to. Not because you’re broken, but because you deserve to feel safe in your own life.
You don’t have to unpack everything all at once. You don’t even have to name it clearly. Just start with noticing. Start with staying. That’s how we loosen the grip of what’s been holding us—and start reclaiming what’s always been ours to begin with. If you’d like support along your journey, I’m here.
You’re worthy of that kind of freedom.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
