This is where it began

The wound might look different for each of us, but the ache of abandonment has a way of echoing through everything.

My abandonment wound didn’t come from one moment.
It came from growing up without the people who were supposed to be there.

I had a place to stay, but it never felt like there was space for me.
The adults around me were wrapped up in their own stress, their own lives.
I wasn’t seen. I wasn’t nurtured. I was just… there.
Something to manage. Something to get through.

Not because they were cruel, but because they were overwhelmed.

And when you grow up in that kind of environment, you learn to take up less space.
You stop asking for things.
You start to believe that needing love or attention makes you a burden.

But even as a kid, I understood I was alone. And that kind of loneliness changes you.

It follows you.
It stays in your body, in your relationships, in the way you brace for someone to leave before they even do.
It teaches you not to expect much. It convinces you that you’re the problem.

You end up carrying it for years, believing you’re unworthy, unlovable, defective, or just too hard to care for.
You stop trusting anyone with the real you.
Not because you don’t want closeness, but because deep down, you’re still waiting for them to disappear too.

That’s where mine started.

But abandonment doesn’t always come from the same place.
It can come from a parent who was there but cold.
A partner who slowly stopped trying.
A family that expected you to smile and stay quiet instead of needing anything real.
It can come from being ignored until you stopped reaching out altogether.

Abandonment wounds are real. They don’t just go away.
They show up in how you protect yourself.
In how hard it is to ask for help.
In the way love feels complicated or unsafe.

You might see it in the way you:
• Apologize for needing anything
• Stay in situations that leave you empty
• Overthink every silence
• Feel safer alone, but still hope someone will stay
• Try to act like you don’t care, when deep down, you really do

If any of this sounds familiar, I want you to know:
You’re not the only one who felt forgotten.
You’re not too much.
You’re not a burden.
And none of this was your fault.

You’re allowed to:
• Be angry about what you didn’t get
• Stop trying to earn love
• Want softness, care, and consistency
• Show up as you are
• Heal without explaining every part of your story

Affirmation to hold:
I am not hard to love.
I don’t have to prove I’m worth keeping.
I deserve care, affection, and support.
The pain I carry matters. And I’m allowed to heal.

This is where mine began.
But wherever yours started, you’re welcome here too.
You don’t have to carry it alone.

Some wounds don’t go away just because we grow up. But healing is still possible. That’s where I am now.

-Maria