Childhood emotional neglect and abuse rarely leave visible scars but they shape the way we relate to ourselves and others for years to come. One of the most painful legacies is the internalised belief that expressing our needs is unsafe, selfish, or meaningless.Ìý
Many adults who experienced emotional neglect as children struggle with people-pleasing, fear of conflict, and difficulty setting boundaries. But boundaries aren’t just about saying ‘no’. They are acts of self-recognition. They are ways we begin to tell the truth: I matter. My needs matter. My voice matters.Ìý
The legacy of silence: How emotional neglect shapes behaviourÌý
When a child learns that speaking up leads to punishment, withdrawal, or rejection, silence becomes a survival strategy. Over time, this turns into behaviours like:Ìý
- chronic people-pleasing
- fear of asking for help
- feeling selfish for having needs
- avoiding confrontation even at great personal cost. Ìý
These are not flaws. They are learned responses – protective adaptations formed in emotionally unsafe environments.Ìý
Reclaiming the right to speak: A clinical reflectionÌý
One client, who had endured relentless bullying in childhood, often found herself re-experiencing similar feelings in her adult workplace. Although no explicit hostility was present, she frequently interpreted colleagues’ lack of cooperation as deliberate disrespect.Ìý
When managing team projects, even minor criticisms felt like attacks. Her response was inward – silent anger, withdrawal, and a deep conviction that she wasn’t being taken seriously. Over time, she began to recognise a familiar, embodied sense of threat – tightness in the chest, heat rising in the face – the same physiological responses she had during playground confrontations decades earlier.Ìý
As Bessel van der Kolk writes in The Body Keeps the Score, the body remembers what the mind tries to forget. For this client, healing began with recognising that her adult reactions were echoes of an earlier wound. In therapy, we explored not only the narrative, but also how her nervous system had learned to brace for rejection. Through this, she began to set clearer internal boundaries: ‘This feeling belongs to then, not now’.Ìý
Recovery begins when we recognise a deep truth: having needs is not a weakness, it’s human. But learning to express those needs takes time, especially when past experience has wired us to expect negative consequences.Ìý
This healing process includes:Ìý
- reflecting on moments when your needs were dismissed or punishedÌý
- identifying the emotions that arise when you try to assert yourself
- practising new internal messages: ’My needs are valid’. ‘My boundaries protect my wellbeing’.Ìý
Even simple declarations like ‘That’s enough’ or ‘This is a step too far’ can become the building blocks of personal boundaries.Ìý
Moral boundaries: Living from your valuesÌý
Boundaries are not only protective, they are moral. They reflect our core values and personal standards. They allow us to say:Ìý
- ‘I will not accept disrespect, even if it makes others uncomfortable’.
- ‘I don’t engage in gossip or manipulation’.
- ‘I choose honesty, even when it’s hard’. Ìý
Boundaries rooted in values help us live in alignment, not in fear. They are how we move from reactive self-defence to intentional self-definition.Ìý
Internal Family Systems (IFS): Understanding the inner conflictÌý
IFS was developed by R.C. Schwartz. The model views the mind as a family of ‘parts’. The Internal Family Systems (IFS) model provides a powerful lens for understanding why boundaries feel so fraught. In this model:Ìý
‘M²¹²Ô²¹²µ±ð°ù²õ’ work to keep you in control and avoid risk (e.g. people-pleasing, perfectionism)Ìý
‘E³æ¾±±ô±ð²õ’ carry the deep pain of rejection, shame, and unmet needsÌý
‘F¾±°ù±ð´Ú¾±²µ³ó³Ù±ð°ù²õ’ act impulsively to distract from pain (e.g. anger outbursts, shutting down)Ìý
‘The Core Self’ is your undamaged inner essence – calm, compassionate, and confident.Ìý
IFS helps us meet the parts of ourselves that fear boundary-setting. Often, those parts believe things like:Ìý
‘It’s pointless’.Ìý
‘It’s too dangerous’.Ìý
‘You’re not worth protecting’.Ìý
Through healing, these parts begin to trust that boundaries are no longer threats, they are signs of safety and self-respect.Ìý
The courage to let goÌý
Psychoanalyst Adam Phillips, in On Giving Up, explores how ‘giving up’ is often misunderstood. For many survivors of neglect, giving up looks like resignation: staying silent, keeping the peace, assuming your voice won’t matter.Ìý
But healing requires a different kind of surrender: giving up the belief that you don’t matter. Giving up the roles that kept you invisible. Giving up the fear of being seen.Ìý
Discovering the core self: Where boundaries beginÌý
As we reconnect with the core self, we uncover a quiet confidence. From this centre, boundaries are no longer reactive or defensive. They become natural expressions of identity. They say:Ìý
- I exist
- I have value
- I define the terms of my relationships. Ìý
Boundaries are how we become visible again, not just to others, but to ourselves.Ìý
Conclusion: From silence to self-respectÌý
To set a boundary is to reclaim something sacred: your voice, your space, your self. For those healing from childhood emotional neglect, this is not a simple skill, it’s a lifelong practice of honouring your truth and living from your worth.Ìý
You were never too much. You were never not enough. And you always had the right to be heard.Ìý
Suggested readingÌý
- Janina Fisher, Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors
- Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score
- Richard Schwartz, No Bad Parts (Internal Family Systems) - Adam Phillips, On Giving Up
- Pia Mellody, Facing Codependence Ìý