Why Do I Feel Like Too Much?

High Performance & Trauma Responses • May 04, 2026

The Quiet Weight of Being “Too Much”

Carmen sits at her kitchen table, the late afternoon light slanting through the window as her three-year-old tugs at her sleeve, wanting her attention. Her phone buzzes with an email from her law firm partner—urgent, terse.

She feels the familiar tightening in her chest, a swirl of emotions she’s learned to tuck away: frustration, overwhelm, guilt. “I’m too much,” she whispers to herself.

“Too loud, too emotional, too intense.” But on the surface, Carmen is the competent attorney who commands the courtroom effortlessly, who remembers every birthday, every appointment, every detail. Yet inside, she’s wrestling with feeling like a misfit in her own skin.

Simone, a senior software engineer, knows this feeling too. In meetings, when her voice rises just a notch on concern or excitement, she senses the subtle shift in her colleagues’ eyes, the half-suppressed sighs, the polite nods that feel like silencing.

She has learned to mute herself, to shrink behind jargon and logic because being seen as “too much” means risk—risk of rejection, of being labeled “dramatic” or “needy.” Yet, Simone’s internal world is a kaleidoscope of vivid feeling and longing that she dare not share.

Across professions and life stages, countless women carry this quiet burden. For many ambitious women like Carmen and Simone, the experience of “feeling like too much” is a heavy, often hidden weight. It’s a whisper from early attachment wounds, a shadow cast by family roles, a reflection of gendered silencing, and the internalized voice of shame that says, “You are more than they want or can handle.”

This article explores why you might feel like “too much,” rooted in trauma and relational dynamics, and offers a trauma-informed, nervous system understanding that honors your emotional intensity as part of your whole self. We will walk through clinical insights, stories, research, and practical healing steps tailored for driven, accomplished women navigating this complex terrain.

What Does “Feeling Like Too Much” Mean Clinically?

In plain clinical terms, feeling like “too much” often relates to experiencing shame and emotional intensity that feels overwhelming or socially unacceptable. It is a common experience for people with attachment wounds or histories of relational trauma, where expressing needs, feelings, or boundaries has been met with rejection, minimization, or punishment.

Shame is the deeply painful feeling or sense that we are flawed, unworthy, or fundamentally “bad” as a person. It differs from guilt, which focuses on behaviors; shame targets identity itself. When a woman feels “too much,” she often carries the core belief, “I am too much to be loved or accepted.”

This feeling can also arise from emotional intensity—heightened and vividly felt emotions—where the nervous system is easily triggered into states of arousal or shutdown. Emotional intensity itself is neither good nor bad; it is a part of being human. But when early attachment experiences label this intensity as “too much,” it becomes a source of self-abandonment.

The clinical landscape of this experience is intertwined with:

• Attachment wounds: Patterns formed in early caregiver relationships where safety and emotional attunement were inconsistent or conditional.
• Family roles and parentification: When children are required to meet adult emotional needs or take on caregiving roles, often silencing their own feelings.
• Gendered silencing: Societal and familial messages that discourage women from expressing anger, grief, or assertiveness, especially if labeled “too emotional.”
• Self-abandonment: The internalized survival strategy of denying or suppressing parts of oneself to avoid relational rejection or threat.

In the nervous system, these dynamics relate to how threat detection and relational safety are processed. The body and brain learn to anticipate rejection or punishment when expressing emotions, activating survival responses like fawn (people-pleasing), freeze (emotional shutdown), or flight (avoidance). Over time, this creates a procedural memory—an automatic bodily habit—that conditions the individual to silence or minimize their emotional life.

It is important to clarify that feeling like “too much” is not a character flaw or a sign of weakness. Rather, it is a deeply human response to relational environments that have not supported full emotional expression. Clinically, it is a signal—sometimes a call for healing and integration.

Nervous System Framework: Attachment, Shame, and Emotional Intensity

Understanding why you feel “too much” requires a nervous system lens grounded in attachment and trauma science. Dr. Stephen Porges, PhD, professor at the University of North Carolina and University of Illinois at Chicago, developed the Polyvagal Theory, which explains how the autonomic nervous system regulates our responses to safety and threat (Porges, 2001, PMID: 11587772).

The Polyvagal Theory describes three neural circuits:

1. The ventral vagal complex, associated with social engagement and relational safety. This system supports calm, connection, and the ability to express emotions without fear of rejection.
2. The sympathetic nervous system, which governs fight or flight responses. This system activates when the brain perceives threat, preparing the body for action.
3. The dorsal vagal complex, linked to freeze or shutdown states. This system engages when fight or flight is not possible, leading to dissociation or emotional numbing.

When a woman feels “too much,” her nervous system may get stuck in hyperarousal (fight/flight) or hypoarousal (freeze), making emotional expression feel unsafe or unbearable. Shame, in particular, triggers a shutdown in the social engagement system, cutting off connection and amplifying isolation.

Attachment trauma primes the nervous system to interpret emotional expression as threat. For example, a child who was consistently shamed or dismissed for expressing anger learns to suppress or disavow those feelings. This pattern often persists into adulthood, where the drive to be competent and “keep it together” masks the internal chaos.

Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, MD, a leading trauma researcher and author of The Body Keeps the Score, describes how trauma is stored in the body as somatic memory, beyond words (van der Kolk, 2014). Feeling “too much” reflects these somatic imprints—the body’s way of warning or protecting itself from repeated wounding.

Clinically, this means that healing requires more than intellectual insight; it calls for nervous system regulation, somatic awareness, and relational safety. The body’s implicit memory must be engaged and soothed to allow emotional expression without triggering survival responses.

Composite Client Vignettes: Carmen and Simone

Carmen’s Story: The Lawyer Who Learned to Hide

Carmen, 42, is a successful attorney and mother of two. At work, she commands respect; at home, she juggles family needs with precision.

Yet, Carmen often feels like she’s “too much” — her tears in moments of stress, her frustration when colleagues dismiss her ideas, her deep longing for emotional closeness with her spouse.

Her mother, a woman of few words and high expectations, often told her she was “too sensitive” or “too emotional” growing up. Carmen learned early that showing vulnerability invited criticism or withdrawal.

One evening, after a particularly draining day, Carmen found herself crying quietly in the bathroom. Her youngest child knocked on the door, asking if she was okay. She felt ashamed—she didn’t want to scare him or appear weak. This moment crystallized years of internal conflict: she was a woman who could win cases and manage a household, yet felt unseen and unsafe to express her real feelings.

In therapy, Carmen explores how her nervous system has learned to anticipate rejection when she expresses emotions, triggering a freeze response or self-silencing. She recognizes how this dynamic replays in her marriage and workplace, where being “too much” feels like a threat to her identity as competent and dependable.

Through somatic tracking and Polyvagal-informed interventions, Carmen begins to notice the subtle bodily cues that precede her shutdown or overwhelm. She practices grounding exercises and experiments with small acts of vulnerability—like sharing a feeling with a trusted friend—building her capacity for connection.

Carmen’s journey is ongoing, but she is learning to hold her emotional intensity as a strength rather than a flaw, integrating her competence with her vulnerability in a new narrative of wholeness.

Simone’s Story: The Engineer Who Mutes Her Spark

Simone, 35, is a senior engineer in a tech company. Known for her brilliance and calm demeanor, Simone has developed a habit of suppressing her emotional intensity. Raised in a family where girls were expected to be quiet and accommodating, Simone was often labeled “dramatic” when she spoke up. She describes feeling like an “emotional volcano” she must hide to avoid being dismissed or ridiculed.

At a recent team meeting, Simone noticed her chest tightening as she struggled to voice a concern about a project timeline. She caught herself softening her tone and smiling nervously, worried that showing frustration would confirm the “too much” label. Later, she felt exhausted and disconnected from her own feelings.

Her therapist helps her identify the internalized shame and the fawn survival response—always trying to please and minimize her feelings. Through somatic therapy and attachment-informed coaching, Simone begins to reconnect with her emotional depth as a source of strength rather than flaw.

Simone also starts journaling to explore her feelings safely and practices mindful breathing to regulate her nervous system during stressful moments. She experiments with setting small boundaries at work, such as asking for clarification when interrupted, and notices a growing sense of self-respect.

Simone’s story illustrates how reclaiming emotional expression requires courage and support but can transform internal conflict into authentic presence and leadership.

Both/And

One of the most important truths to hold is that emotional intensity and external competence are not mutually exclusive. Women like Carmen and Simone prove daily that you can be deeply feeling and highly accomplished. The cultural myth that women must temper their emotional expression to be taken seriously is a false narrative rooted in gendered socialization and trauma.

You are both: capable and vulnerable; driven and sensitive; thoughtful and fiery. Holding this tension—this “both/and”—without collapsing into shame or denial is a key step toward healing.

For example, consider a leader who is strategic and assertive in meetings yet openly shares their frustrations or disappointments with trusted colleagues. This authenticity fosters deeper connection and trust, not weakness. Emotional intensity can be a powerful driver for empathy, innovation, and resilience.

Practical coaching can help integrate this both/and by developing emotional literacy, nervous system regulation, and communication skills that honor your whole self. It also involves challenging the internalized messages that tell you to hide or minimize your feelings to be successful.

The Systemic Lens

Feeling “too much” is not just a personal issue; it is a systemic one. Family systems theory helps us see how family roles and dynamics shape emotional expression. For example, parentification occurs when a child takes on adult emotional caretaking, often silencing her own needs to keep peace (Hooper & Doehler, 2012, PMID: 23066751).

Carmen’s mother’s high expectations and emotional withholding shaped Carmen’s early sense that her feelings were a burden. Simone’s family’s insistence on quiet compliance taught her that her emotional expression was dangerous.

Moreover, cultural and gender norms socialize women to prioritize others’ comfort over their own authenticity. In many professional and familial contexts, women are pressured to conform to a “nice,” “calm,” and “unemotional” ideal. This gendered silencing amplifies shame and self-abandonment.

For example, women leaders may be labeled “too emotional” or “unprofessional” when they express anger or assertiveness, whereas similar behaviors in men may be seen as strength. This double standard enforces conformity and suppresses emotional truth.

Understanding these systemic forces helps externalize the problem and reduce self-blame. It also opens the door to collective healing and boundary-setting in relationships and workplaces.

Engaging with feminist theory, social justice frameworks, and community support can provide validation and empowerment. Recognizing that feeling “too much” is a response to oppressive cultural norms shifts the focus from internal deficiency to external change.

The Healing Map: Transforming “Too Much” into Enough

Healing from the feeling of being “too much” requires a multi-dimensional approach that addresses nervous system regulation, identity, relational safety, and systemic change. Here is a practical recovery map:

1. Recognize and Validate Your Emotional Intensity

Begin by naming and honoring your feelings without judgment. Journaling, mindful awareness, or somatic tracking can help you identify emotional states and their bodily sensations. For instance, when you notice tension in your throat or chest, pause and breathe into that area. Ask yourself, “What am I feeling right now?”

Remember, emotional intensity is a gift that can fuel creativity, connection, and insight. Consider how your vivid feelings have inspired you in the past—whether in relationships, work, or creative endeavors.

2. Understand Your Attachment Patterns

Explore your early relationship experiences and how they shaped your nervous system’s threat detection. Therapy approaches like attachment-based therapy or sensorimotor psychotherapy (Ogden & Fisher) can help you access implicit memories and shift relational expectations.

Reflect on questions like: Were your feelings welcomed as a child? Did caregivers respond consistently? How do these patterns show up in your adult relationships?

Understanding these patterns provides self-compassion and a roadmap for change.

3. Build Nervous System Regulation Skills

Practice self-soothing, grounding, and social engagement techniques. Polyvagal-informed interventions support moving from fight/flight/freeze into ventral vagal states of connection and safety (Porges, 2001). Breathwork, gentle movement, and mindful touch can facilitate this.

For example, try the following grounding exercise:

• Sit comfortably, feet on the floor.
• Notice the sensation of your feet touching the ground.
• Take slow, deep breaths, counting to four as you inhale and exhale.
• Soften your gaze and notice any sounds around you.

Repeat this several times until you feel a shift toward calm.

Social engagement practices include safe touch (a hand on your heart), gentle vocalizations, or connecting with a trusted person to share feelings.

4. Challenge Internalized Shame

Use compassionate inquiry or Internal Family Systems (IFS) methods to identify and dialogue with shame parts. Richard Schwartz’s No Bad Parts emphasizes that all parts of self have positive intentions, even shame and self-criticism. Learning to be curious rather than judgmental toward these parts softens internal conflict.

Try this practice:

• When shame arises, pause and notice where you feel it in your body.
• Ask the shame part, “What are you trying to protect me from?”
• Thank it for its care, even if misguided.
• Invite it to step back gently while you make a different choice.

This compassionate stance creates space for integration and healing.

5. Redefine Your Narrative

Rewrite your personal story to integrate your emotional depth as a strength. Drawing on memoir and literature—such as Leslie Jamison’s The Empathy Exams or Tara Westover’s Educated—can be powerful in reshaping identity beyond shame.

Consider journaling or creative expression to explore how your feelings have shaped your resilience and wisdom. Affirmations like “My feelings are valid and valuable” or “I am enough as I am” can reinforce new narratives.

You might also write a letter to your younger self, offering the compassion and validation you needed.

6. Set Relational Boundaries and Express Needs

Start small by practicing saying no or asking for support in safe relationships. Remember that boundaries are a form of self-respect and essential for sustainable leadership and caregiving.

For example, you might say to a colleague, “I need some time to process this before responding,” or to a family member, “I appreciate your concern, but I feel overwhelmed right now.”

Setting boundaries reduces the risk of emotional overwhelm and builds confidence.

7. Address Systemic and Gendered Dynamics

Engage in conversations about gendered expectations and family roles with trusted peers or coaches. Reclaim your voice by connecting with communities of women who share similar experiences.

Advocacy and education can shift workplace cultures to be more inclusive of emotional expression. Consider workshops on emotional intelligence, trauma awareness, or gender bias.

Recognize that healing includes external change as well as internal growth.

8. Consider Trauma-Informed Therapy or Coaching

Working with a trauma-informed therapist or executive coach who understands relational trauma, attachment, and nervous system dynamics can accelerate healing and empower you to lead from authenticity.

Modalities might include somatic experiencing, EMDR, IFS, or sensorimotor psychotherapy. Coaching can focus on leadership presence, boundary-setting, and resilience.

Remember, seeking support is a strength, not a sign of failure.

Both/And

For many women who feel “too much”—too intense, too sensitive, too demanding—there is a persistent internal conflict that resists simple resolution. This experience often arises from a deep and nuanced interplay between the self and relational dynamics, where feelings of shame and attachment hunger coexist in a complex dance.

It is not a matter of either/or but rather a both/and reality: one can be emotionally intense and vulnerable while also striving for competence and connection. This duality, while painful, is foundational to healing.

In clinical practice, this dual experience frequently surfaces in the narratives of women like Carmen and Simone. Carmen, a corporate executive in her early 40s, describes herself as “too much” in meetings—her passion, her energy, and her emotional expressiveness often met with subtle dismissal or overt critique.

Yet, at home, she battles a profound sense of loneliness and shame, stemming from unmet childhood attachment needs that she now recognizes as “attachment hunger.” Simone, a creative director in her late 30s, experiences waves of emotional intensity that she sometimes channels into her art but often fears will overwhelm others, leaving her isolated despite external success.

Both women articulate a tension: craving connection while fearing that their full emotional expression will push others away.

This both/and state echoes the observations of Dr. Janina Fisher, PhD, a trauma-informed clinician who emphasizes the importance of integrating conflicting parts of the self rather than suppressing or privileging one over the other.

Fisher suggests that the internalized family messages that label emotional intensity as “too much” often trigger internal shame, which in turn fuels the desire to detach or minimize one’s feelings. Yet, these feelings are also vital signals of attachment needs and relational longing (Fisher, 2017).

Recognizing this duality allows women to hold their emotional complexity with compassion, rather than judgment.

Moreover, the neurobiological work of Stephen W. Porges, PhD, on the polyvagal theory provides a framework for understanding how the nervous system responds to perceived relational threat by either dampening emotional expression or flooding with emotional intensity (Porges, 2001).

This physiological lens helps to explain why women like Carmen and Simone oscillate between emotional overwhelm and numbness, both rooted in early attachment disruptions. Their bodies are wired to respond to relational cues in ways that may feel “too much” or “not enough,” yet both responses are adaptive attempts at safety.

Acknowledging this both/and experience is critical for clinicians and coaches supporting women navigating shame and attachment hunger. It invites a move away from pathologizing emotional intensity toward a more compassionate understanding of its origins and functions. It also opens the door to nuanced interventions that honor both the need for emotional safety and the desire for authentic connection.

The Systemic Lens

While individual emotional experiences are deeply personal, they rarely exist in isolation from broader family and systemic contexts. The roles women adopt within their families—such as the caretaker, the rebel, the peacemaker, or the “strong one”—are often shaped by intergenerational patterns and unspoken family rules. These roles can simultaneously provide a sense of belonging and contribute to feelings of shame and emotional suppression.

Carmen’s story exemplifies this systemic interplay. Raised in a family where emotional expression was equated with weakness, she unconsciously adopted the role of the “high performer,” striving to prove her worth through achievement.

Her family’s implicit rule was: “Don’t burden others with your feelings.” This message, coupled with subtle invalidation from primary caregivers, created an internal environment where Carmen’s emotional intensity became a source of shame rather than acceptance. Her attachment hunger—her deep longing for attuned, responsive caregiving—remained unmet, fueling a persistent internal conflict.

Simone’s family system, by contrast, prized emotional expression but within narrowly defined boundaries. The family role she inhabited was the “creative sensitive,” celebrated for artistic talents but subtly discouraged from expressing vulnerability or anger.

In this system, emotional intensity was acceptable only when it served aesthetic or relational harmony purposes, not when it revealed internal struggle or need. This conditional acceptance fostered attachment hunger masked by perfectionism and self-silencing of authentic feelings.

These familial dynamics align with the work of Maria Yellow Horse Brave Heart, PhD, who highlights the impact of historical and collective trauma on family roles and emotional expression (Brave Heart, 2003). Her research underscores that family systems often operate as microcosms of larger cultural and intergenerational wounds, shaping how individuals experience shame, attachment, and emotional regulation.

Clinicians attuned to the systemic lens recognize that addressing shame and attachment hunger requires not only individual therapy but also exploration of family narratives, roles, and unspoken rules. This systemic perspective can reveal how emotional intensity is both a personal experience and a relational signal embedded within family dynamics. Healing, therefore, involves renegotiating these roles and rules to create new possibilities for authentic expression and connection.

The Deeper Recovery Map

Healing from the experience of feeling “too much”—intertwined with shame, attachment hunger, and complex family roles—demands a recovery approach that is both profound and practical. It moves beyond surface-level self-help to a structured, trauma-informed process that integrates body, mind, and relational contexts. Below is a concrete recovery map grounded in clinical best practices and neurobiological research.

1. Establishing Safety and Regulation

Emotional intensity can be overwhelming, especially when layered with shame and attachment wounds. The foundational step is cultivating a sense of safety within the body and mind. Techniques informed by Stephen W. Porges’ polyvagal theory prove invaluable here, focusing on activating the ventral vagal system to promote calm engagement (Porges, 2001).

Practices such as paced breathing, grounding exercises, and gentle somatic awareness can help regulate the nervous system. For example, Carmen found that attending to the subtle sensations in her feet or the rhythm of her breath during moments of overwhelm helped her shift from hyperarousal to a more regulated state. This somatic anchoring creates a neurophysiological platform for deeper emotional work.

2. Naming and Differentiating Emotional Experience

Underneath the diffuse sense of “too much” often lies a constellation of feelings—anger, sadness, longing, fear—that may be blurred or fused. Developing emotional granularity, or the ability to identify and label discrete emotions, is critical.

Working with a trauma-informed clinician, women can learn to map their emotional landscape with specificity. Simone, for example, began journaling her emotional states, distinguishing between frustration at unmet expectations and grief for lost connection. This differentiation reduces internal chaos and shame, fostering a compassionate internal dialogue.

3. Exploring Attachment Patterns and Internalized Family Messages

Attachment hunger reflects unmet needs for attuned caregiving, often rooted in childhood experiences. Guided exploration of these patterns can illuminate how early relational dynamics shape current emotional responses and self-perceptions.

Clinicians informed by Judith Herman, MD, emphasize the importance of validating the client’s attachment needs and recognizing the impact of early relational trauma without pathologizing (Herman, 1992). In therapy, Carmen and Simone explored family narratives and the implicit rules governing emotional expression. This process helped them understand that their “too muchness” was not a personal flaw but a survival strategy within their family systems.

4. Integrating Emotional Intensity Through Expressive Modalities

Rather than suppressing or minimizing emotional intensity, healing involves integrating these feelings in safe and constructive ways. Expressive therapies—such as art, movement, or writing—offer embodied outlets for processing complex emotions.

Simone’s creative work became a therapeutic bridge, allowing her to externalize and reframe her emotional intensity. Carmen found that somatic psychotherapy helped her reconnect with her body’s wisdom, releasing tension held in the chest and throat areas where she habitually constricted her expression.

5. Reauthoring Self-Narratives and Cultivating Self-Compassion

Shame thrives on harsh self-judgment and internalized criticism. A critical recovery step is the intentional reauthoring of self-narratives toward self-compassion and acceptance.

Janina Fisher, PhD, highlights the power of developing an internal compassionate witness who can hold emotional parts with kindness rather than condemnation (Fisher, 2017). Both Carmen and Simone practiced compassionate self-talk and mindfulness-based approaches to gently challenge the internalized “too much” message.

6. Building Secure Attachment Through Relational Repair

Attachment hunger can be assuaged through the development of secure, attuned relationships. This may involve repairing existing relationships or cultivating new connections that provide consistent emotional responsiveness.

Therapies emphasizing relational repair, such as Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT) or Sensorimotor Psychotherapy, encourage clients to experience corrective relational experiences that recalibrate attachment systems (Ogden, Minton & Pain, 2006). For Carmen, this meant gradually sharing vulnerability with trusted colleagues and family members, testing the waters of authentic connection.

7. Navigating Family Roles and Setting Boundaries

Reclaiming agency within family systems involves recognizing and renegotiating the roles that perpetuate shame and emotional suppression. Setting clear boundaries becomes a vital act of self-care and empowerment.

Simone practiced articulating her needs and limits with family members who previously expected her to silence certain emotions. This boundary work was challenging but essential for disrupting dysfunctional patterns and reducing attachment hunger.

8. Sustaining Integration Through Ongoing Reflection and Support

Healing emotional intensity and shame is an ongoing process. Sustained recovery benefits from continued reflection, supportive relationships, and periodic recalibration of nervous system regulation.

Peer support groups, ongoing therapy, and coaching provide spaces for women to share their evolving experiences and maintain integration of new relational and emotional capacities.

This deeper recovery map is rooted in trauma-informed, neurobiological, and relational science frameworks. It honors the complexity of feeling “too much” while providing concrete steps toward embodied healing, relational repair, and self-compassion. Through this journey, women like Carmen and Simone move from isolation and shame toward authenticity and connection, embracing their emotional intensity as a source of strength rather than a burden.

A Final Clinical Nuance: Intensity Is Often a Signal, Not a Defect

A final nuance matters for women who fear they are “too much”: emotional intensity is often the nervous system’s attempt to communicate needs that were historically minimized, punished, or made inconvenient. In therapy and coaching, the goal is not to make a woman less vivid, less perceptive, or less relationally alive.

The goal is to help her discern when intensity is carrying present-moment truth, when it is carrying old attachment pain, and when both are happening at once. This distinction is clinically important because shame tends to flatten every feeling into a global indictment of the self.

A sharper lens allows the client to say, “Something real is happening in me,” without concluding, “Something is wrong with me.”

This is also where the newsletter and quiz ecosystem can be especially helpful.

A reader may not yet be ready for deep therapeutic work, but she may be ready to notice recurring patterns: where her voice gets louder because she has felt unheard, where she apologizes for having needs, where she mistakes nervous-system activation for evidence that she is unlovable.

Gentle, repeated psychoeducation can support that noticing. Over time, this kind of pattern recognition becomes a bridge from self-blame to self-study, and from self-study to repair.

A Warm Close: You Are Not Alone in Feeling “Too Much”

If you’ve resonated with these words—feeling like “too much” in a world that often wants you to be less—know that you are not alone. Your emotional depth is part of your brilliance and humanity. Healing is possible, and it begins with compassionate listening to yourself.

I warmly invite you to join my newsletter for ongoing insights and support tailored to women like you who carry impressive external lives and rich internal landscapes. You might also enjoy the quiz to understand your trauma patterns, explore foundational healing through the Learn page, or dive into deeper work with Fixing the Foundations.

You deserve to be fully seen, heard, and held—not despite your intensity, but because of it.

Related Reading and Research

• Porges SW. The polyvagal theory: phylogenetic substrates of a social nervous system. Int J Psychophysiol. 2001;42(2):123-146. PMID: 11587772. DOI: 10.1016/S0167-8760(01)00162-3
• Hooper LM, Doehler K. Assessing family caregiving: a comparison of three retrospective parentification measures. J Marital Fam Ther. 2012;38(3):547-562. PMID: 23066751. DOI: 10.1111/j.1752-0606.2011.00258.x
• Dorahy MJ, Corry M, Black R, et al. Shame, Dissociation, and Complex PTSD Symptoms in Traumatized Psychiatric and Control Groups. J Clin Psychol. 2017;73(7):933-945. PMID: 28301038. DOI: 10.1002/jclp.22339
• Felitti VJ, Anda RF, Nordenberg D, et al. Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to many of the leading causes of death in adults. Am J Prev Med. 1998;14(4):245-258. PMID: 9635069. DOI: 10.1016/S0749-3797(98)00017-8

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