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Understanding Childhood Experiences and Why It Doesn’t Require Blaming Your Parents

Sep 14
3 min read

When we start examining attachment, childhood experiences, and relationship patterns, there's a concern that can come up pretty quickly, which can lead to feelings of guilt:


"Am I just blaming my parents for everything?"

No. At least, that's not how I approach this work.


The point of understanding what shaped you isn't to identify a villain.

It's to understand you.


Because the people who raised us were shaped too.

Whatever our parents or caregivers came into the relationship with was influenced by the people who raised them.

And those people were shaped by somebody.

And somebody shaped them.

We can keep going.


This stuff didn't start with you.

And it probably didn't start with your parents either.

That's why I approach these conversations from a place of understanding versus blame.


Someone Can Love You and Still Not Have the Capacity to Meet Your Needs


These things can exist at the same time.

You can love your parents or caregivers.

You can understand that they did what they knew how to do.

You can recognize what they were dealing with themselves.

You can have compassion for their experiences.

And...

you can acknowledge that there were things you needed that you didn't receive.

Those truths don't cancel each other out.

Because intention and capacity aren't the same thing as impact.


Someone doesn't have to consciously decide to hurt you for an experience to shape you.

And they don't have to be a bad person for your nervous system to have adapted to what was or wasn't available in the relationship.


Children Make Meaning From Their Childhood Experiences


As children, we don't have the adult capacity to contextualize what we're experiencing.

A child isn't necessarily thinking:

"My caregiver loves me deeply, but they have their own unresolved attachment injuries and therefore have limited capacity for emotional attunement."

No.

The child experiences what happens.

Or what doesn't happen.

And the developing brain and nervous system make meaning from it.


If the experiences (feelings and meanings) held in your body had words, they might say:

"My needs are too much."

"I need to take care of myself."

"I need to be good to be loved."

"I shouldn't bother people with my feelings."

"I need to keep everybody happy."


Those meanings can continue influencing how we experience ourselves and relationships long after we're old enough to intellectually understand that there was more to the story.


That's part of why I keep coming back to:

Knowing better doesn't necessarily mean doing better.


Your adult understanding of your caregiver's limitations doesn't automatically undo what your nervous system learned while you were dependent on them.


Understanding Gives You Context


When we remove blame from the equation, we don't have to remove accountability or impact.

We're simply asking different questions.


Not:

"Who can I blame for why I am this way?"


But:

"What happened?"

"What should have happened that didn't?"

"How did I make sense of those experiences?"

"What did I learn about myself?"

"What did I learn about other people?"

"How might those lessons still be showing up now?"


That's information.

And information gives you something to work with.


multiple family generations daughter mother grandmother

You Don't Have to Protect Someone Else From Your Truth


Understanding your experiences isn't an indictment of the people who raised you.

And acknowledging what you needed doesn't mean you have to stop loving them.


Sometimes we avoid examining childhood experiences because we feel as though recognizing what hurt us means accusing someone we love.

It doesn't.


You can understand that somebody gave what they had the capacity to give...

while also acknowledging that what they had to give wasn't always what you needed.

Both can be true.


This isn't about putting your parents or caregivers on trial.

It's about understanding the experiences that helped shape how you make sense of yourself, other people, and the world.


Because ultimately, the purpose of looking backward isn't to stay there.

It's to better understand what's happening inside of you now.

 
 
 

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