When Absence Hurts More Than Presence
Trauma isn’t always what you’ve endured—it can also be what never happened. Blame, neglect, dismissal… these silent wounds can cut deeper than any physical injury. I know this all too well.
My Story: A Pool, a Chill, a Cry for Help
When I was six, my family often mingled with another family during vacations or weekend BBQs. I was expected to “baby-sit” a girl my age who had cognitive challenges. One day, we were swimming in their pool. The water was cold, but I loved to float… even though I wasn’t a strong swimmer. Suddenly, she put me in a chokehold from behind and pulled me under the water. I struggled to get air. My parents and hers—laughing, chatting. I blacked out.
The next thing I knew, I was no longer in my body. I was outside of it, watching myself sink to the bottom of the pool. Everything felt strangely calm, almost euphoric. I could hear everything around me with crystal clarity—my parents chatting about Jeeps and their next vacation, their laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses. I could hear my brother and his friend laughing somewhere inside the house. But no one noticed the small body drifting toward the bottom of the pool. No one noticed I had died. Then, a beautiful presence—later I realize it was my guardian angel—gently pulled me out, laying me beside the pool on the cement. I woke up vomiting water, screaming. All I wanted was to be seen, heard, comforted. Instead, I was silenced: “Stop lying,” “Quit being dramatic,” “If you cry again, I’ll give you a reason to really cry”—my dad’s line. That day, in my six-year-old world, I believed I didn’t matter. And that belief has echoed for decades.
The Invisible Scars of Neglect and Dismissal
This incident contained both physical and emotional trauma. The physical danger was real, but what still stings today is the neglect—the dismissal. That deep, unhealed wound of "I don't matter" is what I still gently unravel, even 40 years later. The other day, neglect whispered in my mind—a trace of that old pain. Now with awareness, I meet these moments with more compassion and deeper healing.
Why It's Not Just About What Happens, But What Doesn't
Neglect and emotional abandonment leave deep imprints on our psyche—scars that often go unseen, yet shape the architecture of our inner world. Research confirms that these hidden wounds are not just symbolic; they are real and lasting.
A meta-analysis estimated that 36.3% of children experience emotional abuse, and 18.4% experience emotional neglect worldwide—highlighting just how widespread this form of maltreatment is BioMed Central. Emotionally abusive or neglectful environments increase the odds of developing anxiety, depression, and complex trauma—despite often lacking physical scars Verywell MindScienceDirect.
Child neglect is the most frequent form of maltreatment. One in four children experience abuse or neglect, with 78% of maltreated children experiencing neglect specifically NCBI. In addition, adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) are shockingly common: about two-thirds of U.S. adults report at least one ACE, and around one in six report four or more, placing them at significantly higher risk for long-term health issues CDC.
One of today's most compelling studies reveals that childhood verbal abuse—like ridicule or humiliation—can increase the risk of poor adult mental health by 64%, even more so than physical abuse The Guardian.
The physiological impact of emotional neglect and abandonment can be profound. Chronic exposure to such rejection triggers "toxic stress," flooding the brain with cortisol and adrenaline. This disrupts emotional regulation, cognitive development, and long-term health outcomes CDCPMC.
The trauma caused by what didn’t happen—what was withheld, silenced, or neglected—can echo far longer and cut deeper than many physical wounds. By naming this pain and holding it with compassion, we reclaim our sense of belonging and begin the journey toward healing.
Healing in Layers, With Compassion
Since then, I've learned to recognize the lingering echoes of neglect for what they are: invitations to reclaim my worth. Each little trigger is a sacred doorway to deeper healing. Now I respond differently—not with shame, but with compassion. I remind my inner child: you do matter. You always did.
The Silent Fracture
Trauma from what didn’t happen— neglect, dismissal, emotional erasure— is real and profound. But it doesn’t have to define us. When we name it, feel it, and lovingly tend to it, we reclaim the truth: we matter. We always did. We find the parts of us that were lost and use them to make us whole again.
