Last week, I found myself triple-checking the lock on our front door before bed, even though Matt had already done it. As I stood there, hand on the doorknob for the third time, I realized this wasn’t really about home security. It was about that familiar knot in my stomach that whispers, “But what if something goes wrong?”
Trust doesn’t come naturally to me. Even with people I love deeply, there’s always this tiny voice questioning their intentions or waiting for the other shoe to drop. And honestly? I’ve spent years trying to understand why.
What I’ve discovered through therapy, self-reflection, and countless conversations with other parents is that our childhood experiences shape our ability to trust in ways we don’t always recognize. Those early years when our brains were still forming? They laid down the blueprint for how we view relationships today.
If you’re someone who struggles with trust, you’re not alone. Let’s explore some childhood experiences that might be at the root of it all.
1. Growing up with inconsistent caregivers
Did you ever feel like you were walking on eggshells, never knowing which version of your parent you’d get that day? Maybe they were loving and attentive one moment, then cold and dismissive the next. This unpredictability teaches kids that people aren’t reliable anchors.
In my own family, we ate dinner together every single night, which looked perfect from the outside. But the emotional availability? That was a different story. Some nights my father would ask about our day with genuine interest. Other nights, he’d be physically present but mentally checked out, exhausted from work. I learned to gauge his mood before sharing anything important.
When caregivers are inconsistent, children develop hypervigilance. We become expert mood readers, always scanning for signs of which version we’re dealing with. As adults, this translates into constantly analyzing people’s behavior for potential threats or changes.
2. Having your feelings dismissed or minimized
“You’re being too sensitive.” “It’s not that bad.” “Other kids have it worse.”
Sound familiar? When children’s emotions are routinely invalidated, they learn their feelings don’t matter. Worse, they start doubting their own perception of reality.
I remember crying once after a friend excluded me from her birthday party. Instead of comfort, I got a lecture about not being so dramatic. The message was clear: my feelings were wrong. Now, when someone hurts me, my first instinct is still to question whether I’m overreacting rather than trusting my emotional response.
3. Experiencing betrayal from a trusted adult
This one cuts deep. Maybe a parent promised something important and didn’t follow through. Perhaps a teacher you confided in shared your secrets. Or a family friend violated boundaries they should have protected.
When someone we’re supposed to trust breaks that faith during our formative years, it fundamentally alters our worldview. The lesson becomes: even people who are supposed to protect you can hurt you. That belief system doesn’t just disappear when we turn eighteen.
4. Being punished for showing vulnerability
Ever share something personal only to have it used against you later? Some parents weaponize vulnerability during arguments, throwing past confessions back in their child’s face.
Middle children like me often become masters at keeping things surface-level to avoid giving anyone ammunition. We learned early that vulnerability equals danger. Is it any wonder we struggle to open up as adults, even with partners who’ve proven themselves trustworthy?
5. Living with family secrets
“Don’t tell anyone about this.” “What happens in this house stays in this house.”
Family secrets create a culture of dishonesty. Whether it’s hiding financial problems, addiction, mental illness, or abuse, keeping secrets teaches children that truth is dangerous and appearances matter more than authenticity.
Growing up in a household where certain topics were completely off-limits meant learning to compartmentalize early. You develop one face for the outside world and another for home. That split makes genuine connection incredibly difficult later in life.
6. Having parents who didn’t trust each other
Children absorb relationship dynamics like sponges. If you witnessed constant suspicion, checking phones, accusations, or actual infidelity between your parents, you internalized those patterns.
My parents stayed together, but there was always this underlying tension. Conversations stayed surface-level at those family dinners because going deeper might crack the facade. Watching them navigate around each other rather than with each other taught me that even in marriage, you need to keep your guard up.
7. Being parentified too young
Did you find yourself taking care of younger siblings, managing household responsibilities, or being your parent’s emotional support? When children are forced into adult roles, they learn they can only rely on themselves.
The message becomes clear: you’re on your own. Other people won’t step up when you need them, so why bother trusting them? This creates adults who struggle to delegate, ask for help, or believe others will follow through on commitments.
8. Experiencing conditional love
“I’m proud of you when you get good grades.” “You’re such a good girl when you’re quiet.” “I love how helpful you are.”
When love feels tied to performance or behavior, children learn they must earn affection. My own perfectionism stems directly from this. Straight A’s meant approval. Anything less meant disappointment.
As adults, we constantly worry that if people see our flaws, they’ll withdraw their love. We don’t trust that anyone could love us unconditionally because we never experienced that ourselves.
9. Never seeing healthy conflict resolution
How did your family handle disagreements? Explosive fights? Silent treatment? Sweeping everything under the rug?
Without models of healthy conflict resolution, we either avoid confrontation entirely or approach it with destructive patterns. Either way, we don’t trust that conflicts can strengthen relationships rather than destroy them.
Moving forward
Here’s what I want you to know: recognizing these patterns is the first step toward healing. Awareness gives us choice. When I catch myself triple-checking that lock, I can pause and ask, “Is this about safety, or is this old programming?”
Building trust as an adult when your childhood taught you otherwise isn’t easy. Some days I still struggle. But through therapy, patience with myself, and consciously choosing differently for my own children, I’m slowly rewriting those old scripts.
Your struggle with trust makes sense. It protected you once. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to question whether you still need quite so much armor. Start small. Notice when distrust shows up. Get curious about it rather than judgmental.
Most importantly, be gentle with yourself. That little kid who learned not to trust? They were doing their best with what they knew. Now you know more. Now you can choose differently.
