People sometimes ask why I focus so much on childhood trauma — as if I’m stuck in the past, or trying to blame parents, or making excuses for adult behavior. This post answers that question directly. Not defensively. The short version: we don’t know what we don’t know. And when we finally do know, everything shifts.
Recently, someone asked me, “Why do you talk about childhood trauma so much? Why do you talk so much about the past and our families versus focusing on the future?”
SUMMARY
There’s a reason this work centers on childhood and the past: where we come from shapes the nervous system, the attachment patterns, and the relational templates we carry into adult life. Understanding the childhood roots of present-day struggles isn’t about blame or being stuck—it’s about seeing clearly enough to do something different. This post answers the question directly and makes the case for why looking back is often the most direct route forward.
There is, of course, the obvious answer that I’m a trauma-informed therapist who specializes in relational and developmental trauma who happens to love to write.
But there’s a deeper, bigger answer here, too.
There’s a big why behind my work, specifically what I put out onto the internet, that’s worth sharing.
So I want to share a story with you – a story about my husband – and some different ways to think about this question, “Why do you talk so much about childhood trauma?” in case you’ve questioned what the point of focusing on this is for yourself.
Childhood trauma – we don’t know what we don’t know.
DEFINITIONRELATIONAL TRAUMA
Relational trauma refers to psychological injury that occurs within the context of important relationships, particularly those with primary caregivers during childhood. Unlike single-incident trauma, relational trauma involves repeated experiences of emotional neglect, inconsistency, manipulation, or abuse within bonds where safety and trust should have been foundational.
I want to share a story with you.
Developmental Trauma
Developmental trauma refers to the impact of adverse, frightening, or chronically inadequate experiences on the developing brain and nervous system during childhood. Unlike single-incident trauma, developmental trauma shapes the child’s fundamental sense of self, others, and the world—their attachment patterns, threat-detection calibration, emotional regulation capacity, and core beliefs about safety and belonging. Its effects are pervasive and long-lasting precisely because they are woven into the architecture of development itself.
It was early Summer in 2019.
Our daughter was about nine months old and, like all new parents, my husband and I were moderately worn down with sleep deprivation from cumulative broken, fractured sleep across the start of her life.
But approaching nine months old, she was starting to sleep in longer stretches.
I would get five, six hours of sleep at a time and feel soooo good – like a superwoman compared to the two or three-hour chunks the first six months mostly held.
But my husband, though he was also getting these six-hour chunks, too, remained exhausted.
Like, couldn’t form sentences tired.
Running into the corners of our furniture tired.
Leaving the cell phone in the fridge tired.
My husband had always been a restless sleeper who “didn’t get great sleep” but being childfree for the first seven years of our relationship, it was easier to just sleep in, go to bed earlier, take it easy during the day.
Basically to compensate for the bad sleep, like over adjusting to your strong ankle when you have a weak ankle.
The “bad sleep” didn’t have as much of an impact back then so we didn’t look at it too closely.
But with a baby and with both of us working full-time, his poor sleep – even when the hours were available – was increasingly becoming a problem. For him and for us as a new little family
His reserves simply couldn’t keep up with the demands of our life very well anymore.
So, even though the timing was terrible, we doubled down on him seeking out some answers because this didn’t seem like typical new parent exhaustion – something else was at play here.
Taking time away from me and the baby, he attended medical appointments and ultimately ended up doing a multi-night sleep lab away from home so we could figure out what was really going on.
It turns out that he had severe sleep apnea.
Not the snoring kind that’s more identifiable. But rather the kind where he stops breathing many, many times per hour all night.
Depriving himself of oxygen and never fully getting the good rest he needs to function well during the day.
He has this because of structural issues – a very deviated septum thanks to a broken nose in his youth.
Signs You May Be Carrying Relational Trauma
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And we didn’t know about this sleep apnea or deviated septum.
He doesn’t tick any of the boxes when it comes to a sleep apnea sufferer: he’s fit and healthy, young, and didn’t snore. His nose looks fine from the outside.
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The invisible patterns you can’t outwork…
Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. This quiz reveals the childhood patterns keeping you running — and why enough is never enough.
So it was revelatory for us to know this diagnosis.
And more revelatory still when he got the custom sleep guard that helps him get more oxygen and airflow at night.
Now, even with less sleep, he can wake up more rested.
It was a game-changer for us to learn this and our lives have really improved since.
Why does accurately naming your childhood trauma change what support becomes possible?
“aw-pull-quote”
So why am I telling you this story about my husband and his sleep?
Because it illustrates something very important: when we have the right information, the right diagnosis, and awareness of what’s really going on, we can more easily get the correct and right supports that can lead to dramatic changes.
This is true for our medical health and, I believe, it’s true, too, for our mental health.
But here’s the rub: so often people who come from abusive, neglectful, or relationally-traumatic childhoods don’t see themselves in the description of “trauma.”
Like a fit and healthy young man who doesn’t fit the standard profile of a sleep apnea sufferer, so many people may miss seeing themselves in a descriptor of childhood trauma.
What happens when you finally learn what you didn’t know about your own childhood trauma?
I truly think that there’s a huge gap of information out there about childhood trauma, developmental trauma, and relational trauma that causes people to miss or dismiss their reality, and the root causes of why they may feel so poorly.
Over the last ten years, I’ve seen patient after patient present with symptoms and complaints of not being able to find and stay in a healthy loving partnership, or struggle with panic attacks, or with binge eating and purging, or with depression that gets worse around the holidays each year, but often these symptoms are not seen for what they may actually be: extensions of a trauma history that’s unacknowledged and underprocessed.
(For more information about how trauma symptoms can manifest, please explore this past essay of mine.)
I talk about childhood trauma, developmental trauma, relational trauma – three names for the same experience – to help people see themselves, their histories, and their present-day realities more clearly so they can seek out the right, effective kinds of support they need in order to feel better, to heal, to transform.
I talk about what I talk about, not because I’m invested in the “shame and blame the parents game”, but because I truly do want to help people see their reality more clearly so they stand a better chance at having a wonderful adulthood no matter what their childhood looked like.
The right supports can make all the difference.
(Like my husband’s blessed mouth guard.)
What kinds of support are most effective for healing childhood trauma?
So what are the “right supports” when it comes to healing from a childhood trauma history?
I think it boils down to a few key things:
Psychoeducation (like what you will find liberally on my blog and in over 120 essays that I’ve written over the last five years).
Grieving and processing
Skills development (such as emotional regulation, asserting boundaries, and assertive communication)
Having different kinds of relationship experiences
I TRULY believe in my bones that you can have a beautiful adulthood no matter what your early childhood looked like.
But sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know.
And so I’ll keep writing with the hopes that my words and ideas can help even one person see themselves and their reality more clearly so they can seek out the right kind of support.
How can trauma-informed assessment help you find and name your invisible wounds?
When you sit across from your therapist insisting your childhood was “normal” while describing panic attacks, failed relationships, and exhaustion no amount of sleep can cure, you might be like the fit young man who never suspected sleep apnea—carrying invisible damage from structural wounds you’ve compensated for so long you don’t recognize them as injuries. Understanding why you talk so much about childhood trauma isn’t dwelling on the past but finally getting the right diagnosis for symptoms you’ve been treating with the wrong medicine.
Your trauma-informed therapist recognizes that people from relational trauma backgrounds often don’t see themselves in traditional abuse narratives. You might have had food, shelter, education—even love—while still experiencing emotional neglect, boundary violations, or parentification that left real neurological and psychological impacts. Like sleep apnea that doesn’t present with typical snoring, your trauma might not look like what you’ve been taught trauma “should” look like.
The assessment process involves connecting dots you’ve never connected: that holiday depression might be anniversary reactions to family dysfunction, that relationship struggles might stem from attachment wounds, that your “high standards” might be hypervigilance from never knowing what would trigger criticism. Your therapist helps you see that these aren’t character flaws or weaknesses but predictable responses to early experiences—as logical as oxygen deprivation causing exhaustion.
Together, you explore what supports would actually address the root causes rather than just managing symptoms. Just as my husband needed a custom mouth guard rather than more coffee, you might need EMDR for trauma processing rather than anxiety medication alone, boundary work rather than just stress management, or attachment-focused therapy rather than traditional CBT. The “right supports” transform everything once you know what you’re actually dealing with.
Most powerfully, therapy teaches that recognizing your trauma history isn’t about becoming a victim or blaming parents—it’s about finally understanding why life has felt so hard despite your best efforts. Like discovering a deviated septum explains decades of poor sleep, recognizing childhood trauma explains struggles that seemed like personal failures but were actually symptoms of treatable wounds.
Now, if you’d like to deepen your own personal growth work, please explore the reflection and journaling prompts that accompany today’s essay. They’re designed to help you see your own history and reality more clearly and to provide you with even more tools and resources to make any change you need or want to make in your life.
Here’s to healing relational trauma and creating thriving lives on solid foundations.
Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. This quiz reveals the childhood patterns keeping you running — and why enough is never enough.
Here’s to healing relational trauma and creating thriving lives on solid foundations.
I keep ending up here again. Different situation, same feeling. I’m not stupid. Why does this keep happening?
Unhealthy relationship patterns often stem from early experiences and attachment styles formed in childhood. Even driven individuals can unconsciously repeat these dynamics, as they are deeply ingrained. Understanding these roots is the first step toward breaking the cycle and fostering healthier connections.
I feel like my childhood wasn’t "that bad," so why do I still struggle with anxiety and self-doubt as an adult?
Childhood emotional neglect isn’t always about overt abuse; it can be a subtle lack of emotional attunement from caregivers. These unmet emotional needs can lead to lasting impacts like anxiety, self-doubt, and a feeling of not being "enough," even when you’re outwardly successful. Acknowledging this is crucial for healing.
How can I stop feeling responsible for everyone else’s emotions and needs, especially when it leaves me feeling drained?
Many driven, ambitious women develop a strong sense of responsibility for others as a coping mechanism, often learned in childhood. This people-pleasing tendency can be exhausting. Setting healthy boundaries and prioritizing your own emotional well-being is vital to reclaim your energy and foster authentic relationships.
Is it normal to feel like I’m constantly striving for perfection, but never quite feeling good enough, despite my achievements?
The drive for perfectionism and the feeling of inadequacy are common experiences for those with childhood trauma or emotional neglect. It’s often a way to compensate for underlying feelings of unworthiness. Recognizing this pattern allows you to challenge these beliefs and cultivate self-compassion beyond your achievements.
What does it mean if I find it hard to trust people, even those close to me, and how does that relate to my past?
Difficulty trusting others, even in close relationships, is a common symptom of attachment wounds formed in early life. When primary caregivers were inconsistent or unreliable, it can create a deep-seated fear of vulnerability. Exploring these past experiences can help you build secure attachments and foster deeper trust in the present.
Helping ambitious women finally feel as good as their résumé looks.
As a licensed psychotherapist, trauma-informed executive coach, and relational trauma specialist with over 15,000 clinical hours, she guides ambitious women — including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs — in repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.
The following statistics provide important context for understanding this topic:
More than two thirds of children experience at least one traumatic event by age 16, yet most adults never receive a trauma-informed assessment — leaving the vast majority without a name for what they’re carrying. (SAMHSA, 2024, as cited in PAR Inc.)
An estimated 5% of U.S. adults have PTSD in any given year (about 13 million in 2020), yet most are not receiving trauma-informed care because their presenting problems are not recognized as trauma-related. (VA National Center for PTSD, 2018)
Childhood trauma shapes brain development, stress response systems, and immune function in ways that manifest decades later as chronic illness, mental health conditions, and relationship difficulties — problems that look like anything but trauma. (URMC Newsroom, 2024)
Because unrecognized problems can't be properly treated. Like my husband's hidden sleep apnea, childhood trauma often manifests as present-day struggles that seem unrelated—relationship problems, panic attacks, depression. Without understanding the root cause, you're just managing symptoms rather than healing the actual wound.
Both can be invisible and affect people who don't fit typical profiles. You might be high-functioning and successful while still carrying trauma, just as my fit, young husband had severe sleep apnea. Both conditions force you to compensate until life's demands reveal that something deeper needs attention.
Many people dismiss their experiences because they weren't "obviously" abusive or don't match media portrayals. Trauma can include emotional neglect, conditional love, or parentification—experiences that leave real impacts even if they don't look dramatic from the outside.
Four key components: psychoeducation (understanding what happened), grief and processing work, skills development (boundaries, emotional regulation, communication), and having different relationship experiences that challenge old patterns. These work together like my husband's comprehensive sleep treatment.
Not at all. It's about accurate diagnosis for effective treatment. Parents often did their best with their own limitations and trauma. Understanding what happened isn't about blame but about recognizing patterns so you can heal and create the adulthood you deserve.
What's Running Your Life?
The invisible patterns you can’t outwork…
Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. If vacation makes you anxious, if praise feels hollow, if you’re planning your next move before finishing the current one—you’re not alone. And you’re *not* broken.
This quiz reveals the invisible patterns from childhood that keep you running. Why enough is never enough. Why success doesn’t equal satisfaction. Why rest feels like risk.
Five minutes to understand what’s really underneath that exhausting, constant drive.
