Content note: Childhood emotional, physical and sexual abuse, alcohol misuse and suicidal thoughts. No graphic descriptions.
You want to feel close to someone. But when they raise their voice, you struggle to speak. When they are kind, part of you wonders how long it will last. When something hurts, you find yourself apologising before you have explained what happened.
There can be many reasons for these experiences. For some people, childhood abuse is part of the story.
That can be difficult to acknowledge, especially if you have spent years telling yourself, “Other people had it worse.”
Perhaps there was food on the table, a good school, or a family everyone admired. Perhaps the person who hurt you could also be loving.
None of that tells us whether you felt safe.
Abuse can involve physical violence, sexual abuse or exploitation, repeated humiliation, threats and emotional cruelty. Neglect can mean essential care or protection was missing. Sexual abuse can also happen without physical contact. These are different experiences, and each deserves to be taken seriously. [1, 2]
An occasional mistake or disagreement is not automatically abuse. But visible injury is not the only sign that a child has been harmed.
Why didn’t they tell anyone?
People ask this as though telling were a simple choice.
Was there someone the child felt safe enough to tell? Someone they believed would listen, believe them and protect them?
There may have been parents, teachers or other caregivers around. But having adults around is not the same as feeling safe enough to speak.
Children may stay silent because of threats, shame, fear of punishment or not being believed. Some lack the language to explain what happened. Some tell much later, when they are adults. [3]
Sometimes the questions around a disclosure make the silence feel safer.
“Are you sure?”
“Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Think about what this will do to the family.”
Imagine carrying something painful, then being asked to protect everyone else from hearing it.
Silence does not make the abuse less real. A delay in telling does not make someone responsible for what happened.
The background can change. The need for safety does not.
Abuse happens across genders, communities and economic backgrounds. A comfortable home, an education or a respected family name cannot tell us whether a child was safe. [2]
What can differ is how much freedom a person has to speak, leave or get support.
Someone may fear losing financial support. Someone else may fear being blamed, losing their community, or bringing shame on their family. A person living far from home may not know where to turn in a language they feel comfortable using.
I want there to be room for this conversation in Arab communities too. For the woman who worries that speaking about sexual abuse will change how people see her. For the man who fears being laughed at if he says he was hurt.
These pressures are not unique to one culture, and no community has only one response. There are also families and people who listen, protect and challenge the silence.
We need more of that.
When you want love, but closeness feels frightening
How do you learn to relax with someone if closeness once came with fear?
Early abuse can affect trust, emotional responses and later relationships. That does not mean every survivor has the same difficulties, or that a difficult relationship proves someone was abused. [4]
For some people, the struggle might sound like this:
“If I say no, will they leave?”
“They seem kind, but when will that change?”
“I want to tell them what I need. I just can’t get the words out.”
Someone may watch every change in a partner’s voice. Someone may find it easier to handle everything alone than risk needing another person. Someone may feel torn between wanting closeness and wanting distance.
These are possible experiences, not a checklist for diagnosing yourself.
And discomfort is not always an old wound. Sometimes the person in front of you is behaving in a way that is unsafe. Understanding your history should help you take your present experience seriously, rather than explain it away.
“Why does she keep choosing men like that?”
I wish we would slow down before asking this.
We can explore someone’s relationship patterns without making them responsible for another person’s cruelty.
A woman might have learned to put her own needs last. She might give repeated chances because she believes understanding someone means staying. She might find it difficult to recognise coercion when it is presented as care.
But people can also conceal harmful behaviour until a relationship is established. Leaving can be complicated by threats, money, housing, children or isolation. Someone does not have to have a childhood trauma history to become trapped in an abusive relationship.
The responsibility for abuse belongs to the person committing it.
For a survivor who wants a relationship, useful questions might be:
Can I disagree without being punished?
Does this person respect my no, even when it disappoints them?
Do their actions stay consistent over time?
Can they take responsibility and make changes after hurting me?
And can I hear my own needs while I am trying so hard to understand theirs?
Survivors can build loving, lasting relationships. You do not have to become perfectly healed before you are worthy of one.
The boys who were never asked
We need to talk about boys and men too.
The boy who was hurt and then told to toughen up. The man who fears people will question his masculinity, sexuality or credibility if he speaks about sexual abuse.
Being a boy did not make him less vulnerable. Being a man now does not make what happened less serious.
Some people try to cope with distress through alcohol or drugs. Some struggle with depression or suicidal thoughts. These difficulties can affect survivors of any gender; they are not a definition of men, and abuse does not lead inevitably to addiction or suicide. Childhood maltreatment is associated with greater risk of substance misuse and mental health difficulties, while sexual abuse can also increase the risk of suicidal behaviour. [1, 5]
We cannot know someone’s story from how much they drink, how angry they seem, or how quiet they are.
We can make it easier for them to ask for help without being mocked.
And compassion can exist alongside accountability. A painful history does not excuse threatening, controlling or hurting somebody else.
What support can begin with
Sometimes a beginning is being able to say:
“Something happened, and I think it still affects me.”
You do not have to tell the whole story at once. You do not have to post it publicly, confront the person who hurt you, or forgive them to deserve support.
A licensed mental health professional with experience in trauma can help you explore what is happening at a pace you can manage. Support may also involve practical safety, medical care, trusted people and help with alcohol or substance use, depending on your needs.
If reading this feels overwhelming, pause. Look around the room and notice a few ordinary things you can see. Feel the support of the chair or the floor if that feels comfortable. You can put the article down.
For a gentle reflection, stay with the present:
What would help me feel a little safer or more supported today?
Perhaps asking someone to listen without giving advice. Making an appointment. Saying you are not ready to discuss a detail. Taking some distance from a conversation that keeps leaving you distressed.
You do not need to force memories or search for an explanation for every feeling.
You do not have to explain everything to deserve support
Perhaps you are only beginning to recognise that something from your childhood still hurts. Perhaps you have known for years, but never felt able to speak about it.
You can take your time deciding who deserves to hear your story.
You can love people in your family and still acknowledge something that should never have happened. You can be capable and independent and still need care.
What happened does not make you less worthy of tenderness, respect or a relationship in which your boundaries matter.
For today, you might simply ask: What would help me feel a little safer or more supported?
You do not have to answer that question publicly.
If you need support
This article offers general reflection, not a diagnosis or individual treatment advice. I am a trauma-informed life coach; coaching does not replace trauma treatment, crisis care or safeguarding support.
If you are having suicidal thoughts, seek urgent support from a mental health professional or crisis service in your country. If you might act on those thoughts or cannot stay safe, contact local emergency services or go to the nearest emergency department now. If possible, ask someone you trust to stay with you while you get help.
If abuse is ongoing, a local survivor-support or domestic-abuse service can help you consider safer next steps. You do not need to confront the person harming you first.
Further reading and sources
The examples in this article are illustrative, not accounts of individual clients.
- WHO: Child maltreatment — forms of maltreatment and possible long-term health effects.
- NCTSN: Sexual abuse — contact and non-contact abuse; children across backgrounds.
- NCTSN: Questions and answers about child sexual abuse — delayed disclosure, support and recovery. For safeguarding, also see NCTSN’s caregiver fact sheet.
- NCTSN: Effects of complex trauma — trust, relationships and responses to threat.
- NCTSN: Effects of child sexual abuse — varied responses, possible risks and the value of support.
About the author
Pearl is a trauma-informed life coach working in English and Arabic. Through Feel Free, Live Fully, she writes about emotions, relationships, self-awareness and self-compassion.
For the longer reflection, read “What Happens to the Child Who Never Told Anyone?” on Substack: https://pearlfeelfree.substack.com/p/childhood-abuse-silence-adult-relationships?r=922bcr&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true