Ever notice how certain phrases from childhood can still make your stomach drop, even decades later?
Those seemingly innocent comments from emotionally unavailable parents – delivered in mere seconds – have this uncanny ability to echo through time. They become the soundtrack to our self-doubt, the voice that tells us we’re too much or not enough, the invisible barrier between us and genuine connection.
I’ve spent years studying psychology and human behavior, and what strikes me most is how universal these experiences are. The words might differ slightly, but the impact remains devastatingly similar. Adult children everywhere are unpacking the same emotional suitcases, filled with phrases that shaped how they see themselves and navigate relationships.
Today, we’re diving into seven things emotionally unavailable parents said that their children are still working through in therapy rooms across the world.
1) “Stop being so sensitive”
This one hits different, doesn’t it?
When a child expresses hurt, fear, or disappointment, they’re essentially saying, “I need you to see me.” But this response? It’s emotional invalidation wrapped in a neat little package.
What makes this phrase so damaging is that it teaches kids their feelings are wrong. Not just inconvenient – fundamentally incorrect. Fast forward twenty years, and you’ve got adults who apologize for crying, who push down their emotions until they explode, who genuinely don’t know if their feelings are valid.
I remember working with someone who couldn’t express any negative emotion without immediately following it with “but I’m probably just being too sensitive.” That programming runs deep.
The real kicker? Sensitivity isn’t a character flaw. It’s literally how we’re wired to connect with others. But when you’re told repeatedly that your emotional responses are excessive, you start disconnecting from your own internal compass.
2) “I’m busy right now”
Sure, parents get busy. Life happens. Work calls. Dishes need washing.
But when “I’m busy right now” becomes the default response to a child seeking connection, it sends a clear message: you’re not a priority.
Kids internalize this as “I’m not important enough.” They learn to minimize their needs, to wait for the “right time” that never comes, to feel guilty for wanting attention. These are the adults who struggle to ask for help, who feel like a burden in their own relationships, who’ve mastered the art of making themselves small.
In my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego, I explore how Buddhist philosophy teaches us about presence and mindful attention. The opposite of “I’m busy” isn’t dropping everything – it’s acknowledging the person in front of you, even if just for a moment.
What gets me is how this phrase creates adults who are hypervigilant about other people’s time and availability. They’ll triple-check before asking for anything, convinced they’re interrupting something more important.
3) “You’re being dramatic”
Nothing quite dismisses a child’s reality like being told they’re performing their emotions rather than feeling them.
This phrase is particularly insidious because it reframes genuine emotional expression as manipulation or attention-seeking. The child learns that their authentic feelings are somehow theatrical, exaggerated, fake.
Think about that for a second. When your emotional truth is consistently labeled as performance, you stop trusting your own experience. You second-guess every feeling, wondering if you’re making a big deal out of nothing.
These adults often struggle with imposter syndrome in their emotional lives. They’ll minimize their own trauma (“other people had it worse”), doubt their emotional responses (“am I overreacting?”), and struggle to validate their own experiences without external confirmation.
The therapy bills add up as they work to rebuild trust in their own emotional reality.
4) “Because I said so”
Power without explanation. Authority without reasoning. Control without connection.
When this becomes a parent’s go-to response, it teaches children that their need to understand doesn’t matter. Their curiosity is inconvenient. Their desire for logic or fairness is irrelevant.
But here’s what really happens: kids stop asking why. Not just about household rules, but about everything. They learn that questioning authority leads nowhere, that their voice doesn’t matter in the decision-making process.
As adults, they might struggle with assertiveness, have difficulty setting boundaries, or swing the opposite direction and become rigidly controlling themselves. They’ve never learned the healthy negotiation that comes from understanding the ‘why’ behind decisions.
5) “You should be grateful”
Ah, weaponized gratitude. The emotional unavailability special.
Don’t get me wrong – gratitude is powerful. But when it’s used to shut down legitimate feelings or concerns, it becomes toxic positivity in its purest form.
This phrase typically shows up when a child expresses dissatisfaction or hurt. Instead of addressing the issue, the parent redirects to everything the child should appreciate. It’s emotional bypassing 101.
The adult children of these parents often struggle with acknowledging their own needs. They feel guilty for wanting more, even when “more” means basic emotional support. They’ve been programmed to believe that having material necessities means they shouldn’t need emotional ones.
6) “Don’t tell anyone about our family business”
Secrets and shame, wrapped up in family loyalty.
This phrase does double damage. First, it isolates the child from potential support systems. Second, it implies that something about their family – and by extension, them – is shameful.
Kids who hear this grow up with a profound sense of isolation. They learn that vulnerability equals betrayal, that seeking help means airing dirty laundry. They become adults who suffer in silence, convinced that their struggles should stay behind closed doors.
In exploring mindfulness and Buddhist teachings for my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego, I’ve learned how connection and community are essential for healing. But when you’re programmed to keep everything inside, reaching out feels like breaking an unspoken rule.
These adults often struggle with intimacy, keeping even their closest friends at arm’s length. They’ve mastered the art of seeming open while revealing nothing substantial.
7) “I never wanted kids anyway”
Some wounds cut so deep they reshape your entire sense of self.
Whether said in anger or casual conversation, this phrase tells a child they’re fundamentally unwanted. Not their behavior, not their choices – their very existence.
The damage here is existential. These children grow up feeling like they need to earn their right to exist, to constantly prove their worth. They become adults who overachieve to justify their presence, who apologize for taking up space, who struggle with the basic belief that they deserve to be here.
Recently becoming a father myself, I can’t imagine the weight of carrying this message through life. The constant question of whether you’re wanted, whether you belong, whether your existence is a burden rather than a blessing.
Final words
If you recognized your own experience in these phrases, you’re not alone. Millions of us are doing the work to unpack these childhood messages and rewrite our internal narratives.
The beautiful thing about therapy, self-reflection, and healing work is that these phrases don’t have to be the final word. Yes, they shaped us. Yes, they left marks. But they don’t have to define our future relationships or our sense of self-worth.
Healing from emotionally unavailable parents isn’t about blame or staying stuck in the past. It’s about recognizing these patterns, understanding their impact, and consciously choosing different messages for ourselves.
The phrases that took seconds to say might take years to unpack, but every step toward healing is a victory. Every moment you validate your own emotions, every time you ask for what you need, every instance you trust your own experience – you’re rewriting the script.
Your feelings matter. Your needs are valid. And you deserved parents who could see and hold all of you, not just the convenient parts.
