The Roots of Trauma: How Childhood Trauma Affects Adulthood

Series on Trauma and Healing | Part 3

Our earliest roots shape who we become. Healing begins when we pause to listen.

In Part 2, we explored how trauma hides in plain sight—often showing up as tension, disconnection, or survival responses long after the event has passed. We also looked at what it means to be in survival mode, including the nervous system’s responses of hyperarousal (fight or flight) and hypoarousal (freeze or submit).

Now, in Part 3, we trace those patterns to their origin: the early environments where you first learned what it meant to feel safe, soothed, or emotionally alone. So we can better understand how childhood trauma affects adulthood.

This isn’t a checklist of symptoms—it’s an invitation to get curious about the roles you took on, the beliefs you internalized, and the emotional reflexes that shaped how you move through life as an adult.

When Safety Wasn’t Emotional

Safety isn’t just about physical protection. It’s about emotional co-regulation, attunement, and being seen.

Sometimes trauma is obvious: Neglect. Emotional abuse. Growing up in a home filled with yelling or volatility.

But other times, it unfolds quietly from what was missing: warmth, validation, boundaries, emotional safety. Over time, these absences become invisible threads woven through your adult life.

Maybe no one screamed. Maybe you were clothed, fed, even praised for being so “mature” or “easy.” But emotional safety is more than having your basic needs met. It’s about being seen and responded to in a way that made you feel real, accepted, and emotionally safe in your full range of expression—your tears, anger, joy, curiosity, and needs included.

If your tears were ignored or punished... If your anger made someone shut down or explode... If your joy felt “too much” or your needs too inconvenient... If you were praised only when you calmed down, stayed quiet, or stopped crying... If no one ever looked at your tears and said, “I’m here. I’ve got you.” You may have started changing yourself to keep the peace.

When families don’t talk about emotions—when feelings are mocked, minimized, or punished—children don’t learn to feel and process emotion. They learn to dismiss, intellectualize, or shut them down. And that affects everything that comes later.

So you too may have learned to stay small, stay quiet, or stay pleasing. Not because you were dramatic or needy—but because your nervous system was learning the rules of connection. And when connection feels fragile, a child will do almost anything to preserve it.

Adaptations That Look Like Personality

Many adult behaviors that feel frustrating or confusing now began as intelligent adaptations then. The child who had to earn affection becomes the adult who overachieves to feel worthy. The one who tiptoed around moods becomes the partner who overthinks every text. The child who didn’t feel safe expressing pain becomes the adult who keeps everything inside—even from themselves.

These traits can be mistaken for personality:

• People-pleasing that once prevented rejection

• Hyper-independence that protected you from disappointment

• Perfectionism that tried to control the chaos

• Emotional detachment that numbed overwhelming feelings

• Fear of rest or calmness that emerged when stillness felt unsafe

Or maybe you notice:

• The anxiety that flares when you sense someone pulling away

• The loneliness that creeps in, even when surrounded by love

• The heaviness that lingers even after achieving your life goals

  
  

These everyday emotional responses can be signs of deeper wounds.

These aren’t just quirks. They’re signs. Messages from a body that learned:

Connection isn’t safe.

Needs are dangerous.

Expression leads to pain.

This isn’t dysfunction.

It’s protection.

And over time, these patterns might look like:

• A mild conflict leaves you feeling flooded or ashamed

• You anticipate rejection before it happens

• You overperform at work but still feel like it’s not enough

• You feel guilty for needing rest or saying no

• You crave closeness but retreat once it arrives

What begins as survival becomes personality. What once protected you starts to define you—even when it isn’t who you really are.

The Disconnection from Self

Children are wired to seek closeness. When that closeness requires us to hide parts of ourselves, we begin to disown those parts.

You may have learned to disconnect from your own anger, grief, needs—even your joy—if they were too often met with discomfort or dismissal.

This disconnection doesn't vanish. It becomes internalized over time:

“I shouldn’t feel this way.”

“Something must be wrong with me.”

“If I ask for too much, they’ll leave.”

Eventually, what began as an external threat becomes an inner critic. You may carry beliefs like:

• I’m not good enough

• I’m unlovable

• I’m a burden

• People will only love me if I’m useful

• If I disappoint someone, I’ll lose their love

• If I relax, something bad will happen

• Vulnerability isn't safe

• The world isn’t safe

• There’s no room for weakness

These beliefs weren’t chosen. They were learned. Still trying to protect you, even when they no longer serve.

That critical voice—the one that doubts your worth, questions your feelings, or whispers that you’re weak—is the echo of older wounds.

As such, trauma can fracture not just your sense of safety, but your sense of self. And, until those wounds are gently acknowledged, they will keep shaping how you think, feel, and react—especially in moments that stir old pain and often without you even realizing it.

The Window of Tolerance and Your Nervous System

The Window of Tolerance refers to the zone where your nervous system feels regulated enough to think clearly, feel emotions, and respond rather than react.

In safe environments, this window widens. Children learn to ride the waves of big feelings without becoming overwhelmed. But in homes where emotions were ignored, punished, or met with volatility, the nervous system adapts by shrinking that window.

You might now:

• React strongly to mild stressors

• Shut down during conflict

• Feel flooded by emotion or unable to access it at all

  
  

This isn’t emotional weakness. It’s your nervous system doing what it had to do with what it was given—without co-regulation or emotional safety.

Your nervous system began to shape itself around survival instead of safety.

To learn more, revisit Part 2 of this series, where we explored hyperarousal and hypoarousal in greater detail.

The Roles and Patterns You Formed

Maybe you were told to be strong, not sensitive. Maybe affection was offered only when you were calm, helpful, or agreeable. Maybe no one asked how you felt.

You may have learned to:

• Walk on eggshells around an unpredictable caregiver

• Avoid conflict by staying quiet or submitting

• Earn love through showing your worth, obedience, or emotional caretaking

• Forgive, fix, or distract to keep the peace

Or maybe you say:

“I just get on with it.”

“I don’t like dwelling on what’s wrong.”

“I don’t see the point of digging into the past.”

That makes sense. These beliefs once protected you. But now, they might be limiting your ability to feel safe, loved, or whole. They offered protection—not fulfillment.

When your needs went unmet, you didn’t analyze it—you adapted. These weren’t just behaviors. They were intelligent roles you took on to stay safe.

As a child, connection was your means of survival. So you adapted in whatever ways helped preserve it. Those adaptations—shaped as roles, beliefs, and emotional reflexes—don’t simply fade with time. They deepen, quietly shaping your sense of self, your relationships, and your ability to rest or feel safe: physically, emotionally, and relationally.

How childhood trauma can shape adult reactions, beliefs, and patterns.

Trauma Through an Attachment Lens

Attachment theory helps us understand how children learn about love, trust, and safety.

If love was conditional or inconsistent, you may have learned to suppress your needs to stay close. Or to avoid closeness altogether, because it felt unpredictable.

Even well-meaning parents can unintentionally pass down emotional wounds through fear, silence, high expectations, or unprocessed trauma. And your nervous system may still be bracing for the same responses—even in safer relationships now.

These early dynamics form what we now call attachment styles. There are four: secure, anxious-preoccupied, dismissive-avoidant, and fearful-avoidant.

They’re not your fault—and they’re not fixed. You adapted then. You can heal now.

In Part 5 of this series, we’ll explore attachment styles in depth.

The Developing Brain in a High-Stress Home

Childhood isn’t just about memories—it’s about wiring. Your brain and body were literally shaped by your earliest environment.

In high-stress homes, children may develop:

• Heightened threat detection systems

• Difficulty with impulse control or emotional regulation

• Tendency to dissociate, daydream, or disconnect under stress

• Chronic muscle tension or pain without medical explanation

This is the neurodevelopmental side of trauma—one that research continues to explore, but your body already knows intimately.

It’s yet another way childhood trauma affects adulthood, often in ways that linger beneath the surface until they’re named, understood, and met with compassion.

Reclaiming What Was Silenced

Understanding these roots is not about reliving the past—it’s about reclaiming the parts of you that went silent to survive it.

Strength without softness becomes armour. And behind that armour, there may be grief—grief for the childhood you didn’t receive.

You are not who your circumstances forced you to become.

The child who made themselves small is still within you—but so is the part that longed to be bold, creative, messy, and loved without condition.

Healing isn’t about fixing what’s wrong. It’s about listening to what was unheard, honoring what was unmet, and creating space—finally—for what was always there.

Gentle Practice: Listening to a Younger You

If you feel emotionally safe, find a quiet moment and imagine yourself at an earlier age—a time that felt lonely, overwhelming, or confusing.

Picture yourself sitting beside that younger version—not to fix them, but just to be with them.

Close your eyes, if that feels safe. There’s no right or wrong way to do this. Just notice. Breathe. Be with yourself.

Notice what the younger version is feeling.

You might quietly say:

“I see how hard that was.”

“You never should’ve had to go through that alone.”

“I’m here now. I’m listening.”

If you’d like, gently ask:

• What part of me is speaking right now? (The Fixer? The Peacemaker?)

• What fear might it be holding?

• What is it trying to protect me from?

• What did it need back then that it didn’t receive?

You don’t have to go deep.

Just be curious.

Just stay near.

If anything feels overwhelming, pause, and return to the present.

Press your feet into the ground. Place your hand on your heart. Say the date aloud. Gently remind yourself: “This is now. And I am safe enough to pause here.”

When you feel ready, slowly open your eyes.

Let the room come back into focus.

Let yourself arrive gently. If it helps, try one of these:

• Sip something warm or cold.

• Name 5 things you see, 4 you feel, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, and 1 you taste.

You don’t have to do anything else right now.

Just breathe.

Just be.

Want to Understand More About How Childhood Trauma Affects Adulthood?

Here are a few books and resources that explore these patterns:

Books

• The Origins of You by Vienna Pharaon

• What Happened to You? by Dr. Bruce Perry & Oprah Winfrey

• Attached by Amir Levine & Rachel Heller

• Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson

  
  

Articles and Resources

• Attachment Quiz – The Attachment Project

• Childhood Emotional Neglect: The Voice of Experience – Dr. Jonice Webb

• Childhood Trauma Shapes Adult Stress Appraisal and Mental Health Outcomes, Research Reveals – Justin Jackson (Medical Xpress)

• The Wounded Inner Child – Shirley Davis (CPTSD Foundation)

Coming Next in This Series:

Part 4: What Is Big T and Little t Trauma? Definitions, Examples, and How They Affect You

Until then, may the parts of you that endured begin to feel a little more seen. And if you feel called to explore your story in a safe space, you’re welcome to reach out. We're here—when you're ready.