The Quiet Ache

When I used to think about the fear of abandonment, I pictured a person physically leaving—like a parent walking out on a child. But through my self help ways, I’ve realized that abandonment doesn't always have a suitcase. Sometimes, it’s emotional.

My parents were married until my mom passed away. I didn’t have a parent leave my presence, but both were emotionally unavailable. I was often told not to have feelings, which felt like a form of abandonment. I have a lot of deep emotions, but no one taught me how to handle them. For years, friends and coworkers probably thought I was "emotionless" because I had to keep everything tucked away just to keep from being a mess.

When We Abandon Ourselves

Because I felt emotionally abandoned by my parents, I learned to abandon myself.

If something really hurt my feelings, I wouldn’t talk about it. I would ignore it, walk away, or shut down. By staying silent, I was telling myself that my feelings weren't important—confirming exactly what I had been taught as a child.

At the same time, I developed a high awareness of others. I often knew people better than they knew themselves. While that sounds like a strength, it was actually a distraction; I was so focused on everyone else that I didn't truly know myself.

Don’t get me wrong—knowing people is great because it is how you can love them unconditionally. But knowing yourself is the other way to love them unconditionally. In the past, I used my awareness of others as protection. I would still love people, but I used that knowledge as a shield. Today, I feel better inside because I’ve stopped using my focus on others as a distraction from knowing myself.

Breaking the Silence

There were parts of my past I felt shame about—thoughts that wanted me to stay small. I knew overcoming them would be hard because they run so deep in my veins, but I did it, and I continue to do it every day.

In romantic relationships, this pattern showed up as caring more about the man’s needs than my own. When I stopped focusing on myself, things would inevitably fall apart. It is hard to navigate a loving relationship when you didn’t have a clear example of one growing up.

I finally hit a wall where therapy and Al-Anon weren't moving fast enough for me. I needed to go deeper, so I turned to shadow work. That’s where the truth came out: I was running from my own emotions because I didn’t feel safe holding them.

How I Stopped Abandoning Myself

Once I recognized the pattern, I had to work on making my feelings important again. I started speaking up in situations where I’d normally stay quiet.

I’ve always been vocal about standing up for others or defending myself when I’m angry, but the real challenge was sharing when I was simply upset or hurt. It’s still a challenge today. Sometimes it takes a few tries before I realize, "Oh, I need to say something about this," rather than letting it sit until it comes out sideways.

Healing the Past

I also had to process the feeling of abandonment when my dad died ten years ago. The way he passed was heartbreaking because it felt like he didn't want to overcome what was happening within him. I carried that sadness and anger for a long time—it wasn't until last year that I truly began to move past it. Now, I understand him better. I see his part, and I see mine.

Finding Your Way Back

Abandonment shows up in many ways. If someone leaves you, please know it is not your fault. Often, people run from a connection because of their own internal battles. But the most important thing is that you don't run from yourself.

One thing I’ve started doing to feel safe is simply sitting in my emotions. If I am sad, I let myself be sad. I acknowledge it and analyze it:

• Why do I feel this way?

• What happened in my past that makes me feel this way in my present?

• Is my past actually happening right now, or am I just projecting it because of my history?

When you sit with your emotions, you realize you have good ones, too. Now, when I am happy, I am really happy—and it shows in my face and my body language.

If this resonates with you, I encourage you to do some research or look into shadow work. You deserve to live a life where you are fully present for yourself.

Ask yourself: The last time you were hurt but said "It’s fine," who were you protecting? Them, or the version of you that is afraid to be seen?

I love you.

This is Love