When we think of the issues that come with a "poor childhood," we often image children who have been physically damaged - beaten, malnourished, sexually abused - or who have been treated with active contempt: shouted at, blamed, put down, mocked, and tortured. Such graphic images make it difficult to imagine that youngsters may be subjected to another, in many ways more common yet as destructive sort of injury. There is no physical violence, no taunting, and no shouting in this case. At first glance, everything appears to be in order. But that would be to overlook a specific type of wound that can be caused by what psychologists refer to as "emotional neglect."
We're so used to focusing on abuses that result from interventions that we overlook those that can result from a lack of intervention. The youngster who has been emotionally neglected is not screamed at, hit, locked up, or mocked. They are simply - and often quietly - ignored. A parent does not give them a lot of smiles. There's never enough time to check through their work, whether it's a sketch or a tale. No one can recall the name of their stuffed animal. No one notices that they are depressed and that their first day of school may have been a struggle. There's always something more important to do than spend time with them (maybe another sibling, work, or their partner's expectations). There may also be a lot of parties). The father appears unconvinced and uninterested. There are no ruffled hair or embraces. There are no nicknames or affectionate words. Birthdays are often overlooked. Tears are not dried or consoled in any way. The parent does not address the child directly. They might move in with another family soon after the baby is born.
At first look, none of this appears to be particularly harmful, especially when the nefarious behaviour is essentially undetectable. It goes well with a variety of visible signals of a happy family life. However, this is not to suggest that no harm is being done. "No more devilish punishment could be devised, if such a thing were possible, than that one should be released loose in society and remain absolutely unnoticed by all the members thereof," psychologist William James noted foresightedly. If no one looked around when we arrived, answered when we talked, or cared about what we did, but instead "cut us dead," acting as if we were non-existent things, a type of wrath and impotent despair would boil up in us, and the cruellest bodily torment would be a relief.
The disinclination of any child to believe that something is wrong with its parent is a vital fact of psychological life; it will go to nearly any extent to prevent the concept from forming that its parent is mentally ill or inherently nasty. It will be attached to and infatuated with the most heinous and callous character that an objective observer may see right through in an instant.
The child will go to any length to avoid believing that its own progenitor has injured it - especially if the parent is appealing to others and impressive in the professional realm. To justify its disinterest, the child would just conclude that there must be something seriously wrong with it. It had to have failed in some manner; it had to be horribly ugly, disgusting, malformed, or deficient in some way. This is the only logical reason for their presence being met with a blank stare.
The adult who comes from such a tangled, veiled childhood is sure to be perplexed. On the surface, they may appear to have nothing but good intentions and a desire to please their early caregivers. However, they may experience lacerating uncertainty, paranoia, and self-contempt deep within themselves. To shield themselves from continuous contacts with their perceived repulsiveness, individuals may turn to alcohol or develop numbing, relaxing addictions.
When we can accept the word "emotional neglect" and treat it, and thus our own tales, with the seriousness it deserves, we will have reached a point of resolution. Our childhood sorrows may not be the most visible or noteworthy, but they can still be significant and true. Our feelings of shame bear witness to this. Although we were not hit, we were hurt. We didn't have the love that makes individuals strong and entire, that makes them feel true and deserving, that keeps them from being impressed by others who abuse them, and that keeps them from wanting to kill themselves when they make mistakes.
We hear so much about the virtues of bravery that we overlook the value of learning to feel - with appropriate cathartic intent - usefully sorry for ourselves on a more regular basis.