September 8, 2025
Dear Hummingbird,
People often say that childhood trauma has no business growing with you; that at some point, it’s meant to fade away, disappear, like adolescence. But it doesn’t work that way.
For me, it grew. Sporadically, relentlessly. To the point where it even feels bigger than me. It’s like a shadow that never lets you be.
I grew up in a broken home with abusive parents. My father was cruel to my mom and us, and my mom took it out on us, too. On every side, we still got the worst of it. Even now, in quiet moments, I hear the yelling. Sometimes I even feel the sting of slaps, the metal part of the belt landing on my lower back and my mother’s sharp, depreciating insults.
Those experiences shaped the way I see myself. I believed their words; that I wasn’t good enough, didn’t deserve better, wasn’t worth anything good. My self-esteem has been hollowed out so deeply that I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, and it only seems to grow worse as I get older.
The worst part? I keep attracting people who treat me just the same, or worse. Friends who drain me and then leave me, and relationships where I am mistreated, underestimated and ultimately abandoned.
I’ve tried building walls and learnt to pretend normalcy. But beneath the visage, I am still that frightened little child, hurting and yearning to be worth something to someone.
Sometimes I wonder what healing from trauma really means. Because to me it doesn’t feel like some utopian “letting go”, it feels more like learning to live with your garbage and keeping it from rearing its ugly head and taking over every part of me.
But If I’m wrong, if there’s truly a path to healing, I’m curious to know.
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