Sometimes I catch myself apologizing for things that aren’t my fault, and I immediately think about my childhood dinner table.
We’d all be there together every night, passing around whatever casserole was on rotation, but the conversations never went deeper than homework assignments and tomorrow’s schedule. My father, home from another twelve-hour day, would eat quietly while reading the paper.
Looking back now, I realize those surface-level family dinners shaped more than just my appetite for meaningful conversation.
If you grew up with emotionally unavailable parents like I did, you might be carrying around some invisible baggage without even knowing it. These patterns run deep, influencing how we navigate relationships, handle conflict, and even parent our own children.
Here are few I’ve have noticed.
1. You’re a chronic people-pleaser
Ever find yourself saying yes to things you really don’t want to do? That’s me at every PTA meeting, farmers market volunteer shift, and playdate I should have declined. When your emotional needs weren’t acknowledged growing up, you learn to earn love through being helpful, agreeable, and never causing problems.
I still struggle with this one. Just last week, I agreed to make three dozen organic muffins for Ellie’s class party while juggling a writing deadline and Milo’s molars coming in. Matt gently reminded me that saying no doesn’t make me a bad person. But that little voice in my head still whispers that being needed equals being loved.
The truth is, children with emotionally unavailable parents often become adults who prioritize everyone else’s comfort over their own boundaries. We learned early that keeping the peace was safer than expressing our needs.
2. You struggle to identify your own emotions
What does disappointment actually feel like in your body? Can you tell the difference between frustration and anger? If these questions make you pause, you’re not alone.
Growing up in a home where emotions weren’t discussed or validated means you might have trouble recognizing what you’re feeling.
I’ve had to literally learn emotion words as an adult and practice checking in with myself throughout the day. Sometimes I’ll be snapping at the kids over spilled paint water, only to realize later that I’m actually anxious about something completely unrelated.
3. You either overshare or undershare
There’s rarely a middle ground here. Either you dump your entire life story on the grocery store clerk, or you keep everything locked up tighter than our cloth diaper stash.
Both extremes come from the same place: not learning healthy emotional boundaries as a child.
When parents aren’t emotionally available, kids don’t get to practice the natural back-and-forth of sharing feelings in safe doses. You either learned that emotions were too much (so you hide them) or you’re desperately seeking the validation you never received (so you overshare).
4. You have an intense fear of abandonment
This one hits hard. When the people who were supposed to be your emotional safety net weren’t there, you develop an underlying anxiety that everyone will eventually leave or withdraw their love.
I notice this creeping up in my marriage sometimes. If Matt seems quiet after a long day, my brain immediately jumps to worst-case scenarios. Did I do something wrong? Is he pulling away?
It takes conscious effort to remind myself that people can be tired or preoccupied without it meaning they’re emotionally checking out.
5. You’re hyper-independent to a fault
“I can do it myself” becomes your life motto when you learn early that you can’t rely on others for emotional support. While independence is generally positive, taken to extremes it becomes isolation.
Do you have trouble accepting help, even when you’re drowning? That’s this trait in action. You’d rather struggle alone with two kids melting down in the produce section than admit you need support.
Because asking for help feels like confirming that childhood message: you’re on your own with your feelings.
6. You seek validation constantly
When your parents didn’t mirror back your emotions or celebrate your authentic self, you might find yourself constantly seeking external approval as an adult.
Every Instagram like feels important. Every compliment gets replayed in your mind.
I catch myself doing this with my writing sometimes, obsessively checking responses and needing reassurance that my work matters. It’s exhausting living for other people’s approval when you never learned to trust your own judgment.
7. You have trouble with emotional intimacy
Opening up feels dangerous when vulnerability wasn’t safe in your childhood home. You might find yourself keeping even close friends at arm’s length, or sabotaging relationships when they get too deep.
Creating the emotionally open family culture I want for my kids means fighting against my own instincts to keep things light and surface-level. When Ellie asks why I look sad, my first impulse is still to say “I’m fine, honey.” But I’m learning to say things like “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed today, but talking to you helps.”
8. You’re drawn to or repelled by emotionally unavailable partners
We often recreate familiar patterns, even when they’re unhealthy. You might find yourself attracted to partners who mirror that emotional distance you knew growing up. Or you swing the opposite direction, completely avoiding anyone who shows the slightest sign of emotional withdrawal.
Either way, those early experiences with emotionally unavailable parents become the invisible template for adult relationships. Breaking the pattern requires recognizing it first.
Closing thoughts
Here’s what I’m learning: these traits aren’t character flaws or permanent sentences. They’re adaptations that helped us survive childhoods where emotional connection wasn’t available. The beautiful thing about recognizing these patterns is that awareness creates choice.
Every time I catch myself apologizing unnecessarily or struggling to name what I’m feeling, I remind myself that I’m rewiring decades of programming. When I sit with my kids and help them process their big emotions, when I tell them it’s okay to be sad or angry or disappointed, I’m healing something in myself too.
The work isn’t easy. Some days I nail it, creating those emotionally rich moments I craved as a child. Other days I fall back into old patterns, keeping things surface-level when deeper connection is needed. But Matt reminds me that progress isn’t perfection.
If you recognize yourself in these traits, please know you’re not broken. You’re someone who adapted brilliantly to challenging circumstances.
And now, with awareness and intention, you can create the emotional availability you needed all along, both for yourself and for the people you love.
