My life is great but why I feel Wounded, anxious and depressed? Look at your wounds!
- Ivo Marques
- Jul 25
- 3 min read
Relational Trauma wounds that I can’t see.
“Trauma is not what happens to you. Trauma is what happens inside you as a result of what happens to you.”— Gabor Maté
We often associate trauma with catastrophe — abuse, violence, war, disaster. These are the “capital T” traumas, the ones that are visible, dramatic, socially recognised.
But for many people, the wounds they carry don’t come from what was done to them. They come from what wasn’t.
No bruises, no scars, no screaming. No clear, specific moment or “event.”Just the slow, quiet ache of feeling unseen. Unheld. Unloved and Alone.
This kind of trauma is harder to name — and often, harder to heal — because it isn’t visibe and out of sight.
The Invisible Wound
A client once said to me, “Nothing bad ever happened in my childhood. But for some reason, I always feel like I’m not real. Like I’m not really here.” (Gabor Mate)
That is trauma.
People say “My parents gave me everything — clothes, school, food. But I don’t remember ever being hugged. I don’t think I was allowed to cry.”
That, too, is traumatic.
Emotional neglect, lack of nurture doesn’t leave scars on the skin, — it leaves silence in the body.It is displayed as a persistent sense that you’re “not enough,” even when things are going well. A feeling of disconnection from your own emotions, detached, like you’re numb or watching life from a distance. A tendency to over-function, over-give, over-think — just to feel safe. Difficulty trusting closeness, even when you need it the most.
We learn to survive by discounting the parts of us that were never welcomed. And over time, we forget they were ever there.
Why It’s Hard to Identify
This kind of trauma oftentimes gets missed because: The environment looked “normal” from the outside. The caregivers weren’t abusive — just emotionally unavailable, anxious, depressed or consumed by their own challenges and struggles.
People state I had a great childhood, and I regularly went of holidays. My parents were home and nothing bad happened.
The internal pain feels like a character flaw, like something is wrong with me not a wound. We compare our experience to other people and decide we “shouldn’t complain, my life is great” But pain is not a competition. And trauma isn’t defined by how bad things looked, how challenging things were — it’s defined by how alone you felt with your emotions, myself and the world around me.
It’s Still Trauma If:
You had to suppress your joy or sadness to stay connected
You learned to be the caretaker in a family where no one cared for you, like cooking for siblings and parents.
You were never told “I love you” in ways that felt real
It felt risky expressing vulnerability
You were chronically misunderstood
Trauma is a felt experience and the absence of emotional safety is enough to shape your nervous system, your attachment patterns, and your beliefs about yourself.
A Gentle Reframe:
Have you’ve ever thought:
“Maybe I’m just too sensitive.”
“I had a good childhood, so why am I like this?”
“Other people had it worse, I should be grateful.”
Pause. Slow down and Breathe.
What if what you feel, your pain is valid, even if no one else saw it?What if the absence of obvious trauma made it harder to ask for help?What if your sensitivity is not a flaw, but a sign that something was missing?
Healing What Wasn’t There
To heal from this kind of trauma is to acknowledge the invisible. To name what was missing.To stop minimizing the ache.To honour the child in you who quietly adapted to an environment that didn’t meet their needs.
You are not making it up.You are not “too much.”You are someone who needed more — and didn’t receive it. That matters.
And now, you get to offer yourself what was missing:
Attunement
Gentleness
Presence
Protection
Care
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