Why Your Past Isn’t As Far Away As You Think…
How childhood trauma affects all of your adult relationships.
Long before you could think for yourself, communicate your needs with words, or text a friend when you were struggling, you were just a bundle of nerves and needs.
And the way those needs were (or weren’t) met shaped you in ways you may not even realize.
When you reached out for comfort, did your caregiver respond with warmth?
When you were hungry, was food readily available, or did you learn early on that getting your needs met wasn’t so simple?
Were you encouraged to explore, ask questions, and take up space, or were you expected to be quiet, easy, and undemanding?
These experiences don’t just live in the past. They follow us into adulthood, quietly dictating how we navigate relationships. The way you show up in friendships, dating, and even work dynamics isn’t random—it’s deeply connected to how you learned to attach, cope, and survive as a child.
Are You Dealing With Your Trauma… Or Just Avoiding How Much It Hurts?
Valentine’s Day is marketed as a celebration of love, but for many, it’s just another reminder of how hard relationships can be. It tricks us into thinking love is about chocolates and flowers, when in reality, relationships are where our deepest wounds tend to surface.
Maybe you’ve sworn off dating altogether because you "just don’t have time"—but deep down, relationships feel exhausting and unpredictable.
Maybe you keep ending up with emotionally unavailable partners, despite telling yourself you want something different.
Or maybe you feel like no matter how much effort you put in, the relationships in your life never feel truly safe.
The cruelest part of trauma is how trapped it makes us feel. Even when you’ve left a toxic relationship, moved to a new city, or cut ties with the people who hurt you, the patterns remain. The past follows us—not because we’re broken, but because our nervous system learned long ago what to expect from relationships.
Your Past Is Your Present
Trauma isn’t just the big, obvious moments of harm. It’s any experience that overwhelmed you and left a lasting imprint on how you see yourself, others, and the world.
And relational trauma—the kind that happens when you repeatedly don’t get the safety, love, or consistency you need—changes the way you attach to others.
Let’s use a made up case example to better understand and illustrate this concept.
Meet Jane. Jane is a 37 year old single woman with a history of relationships ranging from emotionally unavailable to abusive. Jane whose always had a good job, great friends, and someone other people can count on, has always felt embarrassed and frustrated with herself because of choice of partners.
Growing up, Jane never knew which version of her father would walk through the door at night. Sometimes he was warm and loving, and other times he was moody and unpredictable, snapping at the family before retreating into silence. If he was in a bad mood, someone would be singled out—yelled at, criticized, or made to feel small.
This was Jane’s normal. And like many people with childhood trauma, she didn’t realize how much it had shaped her until she found herself in a relationship eerily similar to the one she had with her father.
Her boyfriend was also moody, inconsistent, and prone to outbursts. When she tried to connect with him, he accused her of being clingy. When she focused on her own goals, he shut down and punished her with silence. The harder she tried, the worse things got.
Jane wasn’t consciously choosing someone who reminded her of her father. But her nervous system had learned early on that love was unpredictable. That connection came with conditions. That her needs might be met, but only if she performed in the right way.
This is how trauma works—it repeats itself, not because you want it to, but because it’s what your nervous system knows.
This is just one interactions out of thousands that Jane has witnessed or been part of growing up. All these interactions over time have shaped how Jane attaches and forms her adult relationships.
The Way Out Is Through
When relationships feel like the enemy, it’s tempting to withdraw—to avoid closeness, to convince yourself you’re better off alone. But healing doesn’t always happen in isolation.
The way out isn’t just about avoiding toxic relationships—it’s about learning how to experience safe ones.
This doesn’t have to start with romance. It can start with a friend who genuinely shows up for you. A mentor who sees your potential. A therapist who helps you untangle the patterns that have kept you stuck.
Healing relational trauma isn’t about becoming “perfect” at relationships. It’s about noticing the moments when your past is running the show and gently choosing a different path.
It’s about realizing that the love, safety, and security you’ve always craved aren’t out of reach. They just might look different than what you’ve been taught to expect.
Healthy Relationships Are Possible
If relationships feel exhausting, confusing, or just not worth the risk, you’re not alone. When your early experiences taught you that connection comes with pain, it makes sense to be wary. But healing doesn’t mean forcing yourself into relationships before you’re ready—it means learning how to trust yourself in them.
Therapy can be that bridge. It gives you a space to untangle the past, understand your patterns, and practice safer, more fulfilling ways of connecting with others. You don’t have to figure it all out alone, and you don’t have to stay stuck in the same cycles. Healing is possible—one step, one safe relationship at a time.
I work with adult women virtually throughout California and inperson at my office in Lompoc, CA to help them heal from their invisible wounds.
