You’ve Always Been the Strong One: Healing from Early Wounds
- Martin Beck
- Apr 30
- 5 min read
Updated: May 11
The Weight of Strength
Imagine this: You seem to have it all together. You excel at work, care for others, and you never drop the ball. People admire your strength and competence. But inside, you often feel empty or alone. You carry the heavy burden of perfectionism and shame. Asking for help or letting someone in, even a close friend or partner, feels impossible.
If this sounds familiar, know you are not broken or "too sensitive." You are likely a brave survivor of early wounds, doing your best to protect yourself. Every coping strategy you’ve used—striving for perfection, hiding your feelings, avoiding intimacy—makes sense given what you’ve been through.
Understanding Early Trauma
You may have faced trauma, neglect, or a relationship with a narcissistic caregiver that left you starved for real support. In those early years, you learned to survive through deep pain. If love in your family was conditional—only given when you performed well—you may have become the “good girl,” hoping to earn affection by never making mistakes.
If you endured chronic neglect, being perfect might have felt like the only way to have your needs met. If you had a parent or partner who criticized or abused you, you might have hidden your true self to avoid their attacks.
These experiences shaped your brain and heart. You learned smartly how to steer clear of hurt. You did this by working hard, staying quiet, and not depending on anyone. In psychology, we refer to these as survival strategies born from the instinct to protect yourself when no one else would.
Brilliant Survival Strategies
If you grew up with emotional neglect, trauma, or narcissistic abuse, your coping mechanisms make perfect sense. They are, in a way, brilliant survival strategies that protected you when you had no other choice.

How Early Wounds Lead to Survival Strategies
One common effect of early trauma is a deep sense of shame. This is the feeling that "something is wrong with me." As a child, it's natural to think that if bad things happened or love was absent, it must have been your fault.
You may have felt you had to earn love or show you were "good enough" to deserve kindness. Perfectionism can become a way to combat these painful feelings of defectiveness. Achieving and succeeding might have brought you temporary relief—a sense of control and worthiness against an inner narrative that whispers you are unworthy.
Trauma experts note that traumatic stress often leaves people feeling defective, unwanted, or less than others. Striving for perfection is a way some try to "fix" this feeling.
Suppressing Emotions
You may have learned to suppress your emotions as a survival tactic. If feelings like anger, sadness, or fear were dismissed or punished in your past, pushing them down felt safer.
"Don’t cry, don’t rage, don’t need anything" became your mantra. Suppressing feelings can offer short-term relief and a sense of control in chaos. It is an instinctual coping mechanism: if your world was unsafe, numbing your emotions protected you from constant hurt.
Many women with histories of trauma or neglect become skilled at experiential avoidance. This means avoiding feelings or thoughts tied to pain. You might throw yourself into work or caretaking or keep busy to avoid uncomfortable emotions.
And it works, until it doesn’t. Research shows that avoiding or shutting down feelings makes long-term consequences worse, increasing anxiety or PTSD symptoms later. The strategies that helped you survive can eventually backfire.
The Fear of Intimacy
Perhaps the most poignant strategy is keeping your distance from others. When those who were supposed to love you caused pain, you learned that intimacy is unsafe. It’s understandable to develop a fear of intimacy or closeness.
You learned to stay guarded because trusting someone felt like inviting betrayal or abandonment. So, you wear armor. You may keep relationships superficial or sabotage them when they get serious—not out of desire to be alone, but from the terror of being hurt again.
You might hold others to high standards or devise reasons to pull away to protect yourself. This can leave you isolated even when you deeply long for connection. It’s a cruel irony: you crave warmth and understanding but can’t accept it for fear of being hurt.
If you recognize this pattern, understand it exists not because you’re “antisocial,” but because your heart learned to shield itself after being wounded.

When Strength Becomes a Burden
Living in survival mode for too long comes with a hidden cost. Perfectionism, once protective, becomes exhausting—a marathon without a finish line. You may hear an inner critic turning every mistake into self-blame.
You might feel responsible for everyone, even at the expense of your health. Achievements that once brought relief can feel hollow, quickly eclipsed by new pressures. Shame can seep back into your life, no matter how hard you try to hold it all together.
The very same self-protection can silence your emotions. Fear, grief, or anger—feelings tucked away to survive—don't disappear. They build beneath the surface, often manifesting as overwhelm, burnout, or physical symptoms. You may find yourself snapping, feeling numb, or reaching for ways to escape, whether through alcohol, overwork, food, or perfectionism.
As Peter Levine reminds us, trauma lives in the body. Eventually, your body demands to be heard.
The impact on relationships can be profound. Though you may appear strong and independent, you can feel deeply lonely. Letting someone in feels like too great a risk. You crave connection but fear rejection or disappointment from others. So you keep people at arm’s length—not because you don’t want closeness, but because your heart remembers the cost of that closeness.
This tension—the desire for intimacy versus the fear of it—is not a flaw. It reflects old wounds that haven’t yet been met and healed.

Healing Begins Here
Every person’s healing journey is unique. I take an integrative approach to therapy, tailoring the process to fit you. I use AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy) to help you process emotions quickly and safely. This transforms pain into relief and joy.
I also incorporate ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy), which teaches acceptance of emotions and commitment to what truly matters. This leads to a more meaningful life.
We’ll explore how early relationships shaped your beliefs about yourself and others. I utilize attachment science to help you develop healthier connections. I draw on Jungian concepts and existential therapy, employing creative methods like imagery and art to access emotions that words can’t express.
Together, we will address big-picture questions about meaning and purpose in life, especially in the face of suffering.
I prioritize your safety and pace throughout this trauma-informed process. Therapy is a partnership where I support you in navigating your journey. Whether by lighting the path ahead, cheering you on, or walking side-by-side, we will move forward together.
I'm also a practicing artist, and I often weave creativity, poetry, and literature into the work we do together.
You Deserve More Than Survival
The patterns you carry were learned in response to pain. However, these are not permanent. With the proper support, what was once protective can be gently reshaped. Healing isn’t easy, and I won't pretend it is, but it is profoundly possible.
You deserve more than just getting by. You deserve to move beyond shame and self-doubt into a life that feels real, connected, and free. A life where your value isn’t something to prove, but something you feel in your bones.
An Invitation to Connect
I invite you to reach out if this speaks to something tender inside you. You don’t have to do this alone. Healing begins with small, brave steps, and I would be honored to walk beside you.
Whether through therapy, creativity, or conversation, we can begin to turn the page together gently. Your next chapter is waiting. Let’s discover it—at your pace and in your time.
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