Understanding abusive patterns

Abuse happens in so many ways, and some forms of it can appear normal. Chronic relational patterns that require a child to contract, or disappear, are a form of abuse even when they are normalised, well-intended, or culturally accepted, because they lead to self-erasure and long-term harm to the nervous system and the ability to form healthy relationships. 

This is the form I want to write about more: spotting patterns that cause self-erasure in our and others' communication styles.

How self-erasure shows up in everyday life

Self-erasure can appear in subtle ways. For example, someone might say: "It's probably nothing, and I might be overreacting, but if it's not too much trouble, could we maybe do it your way instead?"

Patterns like this often develop when a person repeatedly receives the message that their needs or feelings do not matter. Over time, this becomes habitual, shaping speech, posture, behaviour, and identity. 

The body reflects this adaptation. Breathing becomes shallow, shoulders rise as if to hide the neck. Posture collapses, and eventually this becomes normal.

Clients who come from such families often dread the approach of Christmas, as this is the most difficult part of their year, when other colleagues don’t know why they don’t want to be with the family. Often, when they share some of the stories, they report being dismissed or quickly asked to forgive. Bypass their pain.

Pain calls for acknowledgement, not burial. It is common among the survivors to respond with sadness, grief and anxiety in situations that others find joyful.

When harm comes from within the family

We rarely talk about mothers who intentionally hurt, and yet they exist. Survivors carry a lot of guilt, and naming what happened in therapy often feels like betrayal, even when it brings relief.

Many often struggle to reconcile their lived experience with expectations of unquestioned respect. There is frequently tension between truth and loyalty. It is easier to see those patterns when we are older and to point to what was missing, parents who provided materially but not emotionally, except for nourishment, warmth and interest.

Understanding the kind of upbringing parents themselves received is also part of the healing process. Many clients grow curious about their parents' histories as they begin making sense of their own. 

The lasting impact on identity 

Many people seeking therapy might describe growing up with persistent criticism, comparison and dismissal. Where effort was rarely recognised, and vulnerability was often ignored.

Think about receiving only disapproval, but multiply it over the years. These messages shape how a person shows up in the world. The issue is often not awareness. Many clients see clearly what happened. The difficulty lies in holding mixed feelings, recognising harm while holding complexity.

Some experienced deliberate harm; these realities exist on the spectrum. Often, adults and children remember when their mother or father didn’t protect them from the other parent, but actually used them and allowed harm.

I see clients who don’t know who they are or what they want as a result of abuse over the years. They don’t trust anyone. Constant safety adaptations have led them to a focus outward for regulation. Their nervous system is usually all over the place to the point of such distress that it leads to an inability to build lasting relationships, and they don’t know how to stop it. 

They want to stop the pattern of self-abandonment, but don't know how. 

Healing through safety and self-trust

We start by building a relationship that is based on safety. Without it, they will hide themselves again. For someone who has never known what this is like, this takes time, and a short technique is not the way to process developmentally inflicted harm. While there are many techniques for various forms of abuse, I am writing about building trust and restoring authority within.

Progress happens at the speed of safety. Clients need a unique therapeutic approach that acknowledges their developmental stage and capacity for informed decision-making and consent. Often, other skills need to be developed along the way. This capacity is what needs rebuilding in all individuals who have experienced prolonged, consistent abuse.

Reestablishing trust in one's own perceptions and ability to process overwhelming emotions is where we begin. I am writing in the hope of inviting the reader to reflect on patterns in their past, whether they are still alive today, and, more importantly, this process is not about judgment but about supporting healing.

You might ask yourself:

• What patterns of self-erasure have I normalised?
• Do I minimise my needs to avoid conflict?
• What messages from my upbringing still shape how I relate? 

Healing begins with noticing.