Shadow Work Prompt: When Did I First Feel Like My Voice or Feelings Weren’t Valid?

Hello everyone, and we are back with a new day, a new question on this path of self-discovery, defining and refining ourselves.

Welcome to “Just Talk About It.”

I'm your host, Tamera.

In our previous episode, we explored personal growth, gratitude, and prayer.

This morning, or should I say this day, is starting early—3:42 AM. Couldn’t sleep. Scrolled on my phone. Spirit nudged me: “But you could record, though. You could do that shadow work, though.”

And here we are.

I was raised by my grandparents. My grandmother had Alzheimer’s, already slipping into early dementia when I was born. My grandfather later battled heart disease and was on dialysis. I had a brother 10 years older than me and my mom, who was working long hours.

I was emotionally alone. No one asked how I was doing—not emotionally. If I cried, got angry, or acted out… I was dismissed.

I couldn’t be sensitive. I couldn’t be soft. I had to self-regulate before I even understood what that meant. Silence became my form of rebellion. Revenge came in small ways—silent and calculated. That’s how I coped.

Even when I did get attention, like from my father—it was only when I was in trouble. Sure, I had “good” Christmases. I got what I wanted. But not what I needed.

No one taught me how to process my feelings.

No one said, “What do you need emotionally?”

I was labeled disruptive in school. Progress reports said I talked too much, got easily distracted. But what they missed was this: I was trying to find someone who would listen.

In my late 20s, I looked through childhood photos and school records. I found discipline slips from Catholic school saying how bad I was. And I thought to myself: “Wow. I needed a counselor.”

Not punishment.

Not silence.

Just a safe space.

My mom tried to soothe me with shopping, food, outings—never conversations. That developed into emotional spending patterns I didn’t recognize until recently.

I started attaching emotional relief to ice cream, shoes, or mall trips.

I wasn’t buying to enjoy—I was buying to numb.

And when I didn’t have the money?

I got angry. Not at the money—but at my unmet emotional needs.

Because I was quiet, people dumped their trauma on me. Friends. Family. Strangers. They knew I’d understand. And while I did—I couldn’t carry it.

That silent strength? It made me a free therapist. But I didn’t sign up for that.

Eventually, I stopped sharing my own stories, even in relationships. One time, I literally stopped mid-sentence during a trauma share and said, “You didn’t ask for this.”

We weren’t building a connection. We were trauma bonding.

And I realized, if you can’t offer me emotional security, we’re not doing this.

Now, I don’t just ask myself: “Are they cute? Are they stable?”

I ask: “Do I feel emotionally safe?”

And if the answer is no, I move on.

I no longer overshare. I no longer absorb.

I observe. I assess. I protect my peace.

I used to think healing my inner child was easy—just buy her toys, go to the zoo, be present.

But she needed more than gifts.

She needed to feel safe.

She needed to be heard.

Now my inner teenager?

Whew. She wants revenge.

But I let it go. I don't act on it. I released it. And the ✨magic mushrooms✨ helped with that too—clearing out the emotional residue.

I know I’ve said it before, but let me close with this:

Do the work.

So that you can live emotionally free.

So that you no longer need permission to feel.

So that you no longer internalize what isn’t yours.

Your parents’ emotional wounds?

Not yours.

Your partner’s trauma?

Not yours.

Your friends’ unresolved baggage?

Not yours.

Don’t carry emotional weight you didn’t ask for.

The work you do in silence shows up in peace.

And if you’re wondering where to start…

Ask yourself:

“When did I first feel like my voice wasn’t valid?”

Then—talk about it.

Just like we are here.