As a Child, What Happened to Me That Shouldn’t Have - Or What Didn’t Happen That Should Have?

“If we don’t deal with our wounds, we bleed on people who didn’t cut us.”

– Unknown

There’s a boy in every man.

And most of us have spent decades pretending he doesn’t exist.

We grew up. We hardened. We built. We learned how to operate in a world that doesn’t give a damn about softness. We learned control. We learned silence. We learned how to be “a man” - or at least what passed for one.

But the boy didn’t disappear.

He just got buried under strategy, muscle, sarcasm, achievement, addiction, self-help.

And every now and then - usually in a quiet moment, or in the middle of a fight, or when love gets too close - he screams.

The most successful men I’ve coached have this in common:
They’re not afraid of risk.
They’re not afraid of responsibility.
They’re afraid of remembering.

Because if you slow down long enough to remember what shouldn’t have happened - or what should have - you’ll feel it.
And when you feel it, you can’t un-feel it.
And when you can’t un-feel it, you have a choice:

Heal it. Or repeat it.

What Shouldn’t Have Happened?

Let’s start with the obvious stuff.

• Maybe you were hit.

• Maybe you were humiliated.

• Maybe you were abandoned - emotionally, physically, spiritually.
  
  

That wasn’t your fault. But it became your pattern.
You learned to expect pain.
You learned to expect rejection.
You learned that love equals instability. That vulnerability is a setup.

So you became sharp. Or numb. Or charming. Or cold.
You became a man who could survive anything.

But now you’re here - and survival isn’t enough any-more.

Because survival doesn’t bring peace. It brings repetition.

So you repeat the dynamic.
You attract it. You recreate it. You act it out.

Until you stop.

What Didn’t Happen That Should Have?

This one’s quieter. More dangerous.

Because you can’t point to it.
There are no bruises. No evidence.
Just an ache.

• Maybe you were never touched.

• Maybe no one said they were proud of you.

• Maybe no one ever saw you.

• Maybe you were loved for performance - but not for being.
  
  

You became the “good boy.” The achiever. The fixer. The funny one. The hero.
You became everything everyone needed - except yourself.

And now?

You’re successful, admired, respected - and empty.
Because the thing you needed - the thing you still need - never came.

And here’s the worst part:

You’ve spent so long not needing it, you’re not even sure what it would look like.

The Turning Point: Grieve and Grow

There’s no healing without grief.

You have to mourn the boy you were.
Mourn what he carried.
Mourn what he never got.

You don’t get to skip this part.
You don’t get to bypass it with breathwork or journaling or another f***ing ice bath.
You have to go in.

But here’s the beautiful, brutal truth:

The moment you honour his pain, you begin to reclaim his power.

Not in theory. In your body. In your relationships. In your choices.

You get to choose to parent yourself the way you were never parented.
To finally give that boy a home inside you.

And that’s when you stop bleeding on people who didn’t cut you.
That’s when you stop becoming the man you swore you’d never be.

The Task: Enter the Memory Room

You’re not going to think your way into this.

You’re going to feel your way in.

Real-World Task:

1. The Memory Room
   

• Close your eyes.

• Imagine a room where your childhood memories live.

• Walk through it. Slowly.

• Pick one moment—just one—that still buzzes in your gut.
  
  

2. Write What Shouldn’t Have Happened
   Write that moment down in brutal detail.
   

• What happened?

• Who was there?

• How did it feel?

• What did you learn to believe about yourself?
  
  

3. Then answer:
   “What did I need in that moment that I didn’t get?”
   
   

4. Offer It Now
   Find a way - today - to give yourself one thread of that need.
   Maybe it’s rest. Maybe it’s being held. Maybe it’s telling someone the truth.
   It doesn’t have to be big. It has to be real.

Reflective Exercise

Each night, write:

“What did I believe about myself as a child that I now know isn’t true?”

Let the answers change. Let the old lies surface. Let the new truths in.

You are not weak for feeling this.
You are strong for finally facing it.

Reading List

1. Homecoming – John Bradshaw
   The foundational text on inner child work—raw, honest, powerful.
   

2. The Drama of the Gifted Child – Alice Miller
   For high performers who were loved for doing, not being.
   

3. Running on Empty – Jonice Webb
   The unseen wounds of emotional neglect—and how to heal them.
   

4. The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog – Bruce Perry
   Deep insight into childhood trauma and the biology of connection.
   

5. How to Do the Work – Dr. Nicole LePera
   A grounded, practical guide to self-repair and emotional reparenting.
   

You want to be free?

Then be the man who walks back into the fire and brings the boy out with him.

He doesn’t need to be fixed.
He needs to be seen.
Held.
Honoured.
Loved.

And when he is - when you are - everything shifts.

Your relationships.
Your presence.
Your peace.
Your power.

Because that boy you buried?

He’s still the key.