See Me Now
When we talk about childhood wounds, we often discuss overt harm that was done to us, but not every wound created in childhood is so obvious. The invisible child is a phenomenon that reflects this perfectly. Rather than obvious abuse and cruelty, it more so begins in families that are stretched thin by stress, conflict, illness, siblings with higher needs, or even the parents’ own childhood wounds they have not worked to heal. The fading away child, our invisible child, notices this stress, and out of a desire to prevent more stress, they shrink themselves. They become the child that adults say are “mature,” “easy,” the ones “we don’t have to worry about.” On paper, these look like compliments, but when we dig deeper into it, it reflects a child who is abandoning themselves to keep the peace.
Invisible children are often praised as “such good helpers,” but what is ignored in that statement is that the child is not helping out of altruism but due to the desire to create stability, even if it means hiding their own needs. The person says yes to avoid conflict, reads rooms for safety, and loses touch with bodily cues that signal a need to be in touch with themselves and their inner world.
As this child grows up, we see a pattern of reassurance-seeking, perfectionism, and/or chronic loneliness. They don’t know how to trust themselves and have attachment wounds as a result of this continual denial of their needs both by themselves and their caregivers. When looking at attachment styles, the invisible child may lean towards being fearful-avoidant—they crave closeness while avoiding vulnerability, often connecting through caretaking, sex, or over-functioning instead of shared emotional presence. This mix can draw toxic dynamics, where identity is assigned by others, and boundaries dissolve. Without a sturdy inner container, manipulation feels like love, and chaos feels like intensity.
When looking at how to heal from this invisible child wound, we need to look at different aspects of how we show up. Many of us have gotten good at over-intellectualizing emotions but not actually feeling our feelings. This is where therapeutic somatic work comes in by asking simple, steady questions like: Where is this feeling in my body? What does it need? If anxiety sits in the throat, what’s unsaid? If heaviness sits on the chest, what longs for protection or rest? The goal isn’t to fix the feeling but to witness it, until the body trusts we can be safe both within ourselves and around others. Rather than judge what we are experiencing, we just observe it. Sensation becomes information, and the nervous system learns safety from the inside out.
Additionally, values work rebuilds identity. When you name what truly matters to you, not to your family or partner, you create a container that holds your choices. Values like honesty, steadiness, creativity, or reciprocity become a standard. Boundaries then emerge naturally as the architecture of those values, not as punishments or ultimatums. Questions like: What relationships honor this value? Where do I betray it? What small action realigns me today? As we use these questions to examine how we show up in the world and make decisions based on our values, our self-trust grows. The invisible child becomes a visible adult, not by being louder but by being true to themselves.
Self-compassion ties the work together. Many invisible children struggle to receive, as this has never been their role. Before we can receive from others, we must be able to receive from ourselves. This can start with validating our own experiences without judgement. Simple statements like “What I felt happened,” “It mattered,” and “I matter” can be overwhelming to sit with at first, but it is a critical step. As you are able to receive kindness from yourself, you will also be able to receive kindness from others.
The work we have talked about above is all centered on individual work, but what about the relationship the invisible child has with their parents when they grow up? This can be a difficult area to navigate, as this relationship is often complicated. It’s almost harder to hold space for this wound because it was not intentional harm, and we may recognize that our parents did the best they could, but they still hurt us. Those two truths can exist in the same reality, as hard as it is to hold space for that. No matter what, the power remains in your hands. You can choose relationships that serve you and the way you navigate complexities. We cannot go back and change the past, but we can focus on moving forward with authenticity.