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You may have heard the words moral injury but aren't sure what that means or if it is something that you have experienced in your life. It's important to understand as we are becoming more subject to moral injury in an ever changing world.
Moral injury happens when someone is involved in, witnesses, or is unable to prevent something that goes against their deeply held values or moral beliefs. It’s not quite the same as trauma as we have discussed it here, though they can have similar outcomes in our emotional and physical well-being. Where trauma can leave people feeling unsafe, moral injury tends to leave people feeling broken-hearted, ashamed, or spiritually adrift. It can look like a nurse who had to follow orders that led to substandard care, a combat veteran who had to make impossible choices, a child who was forced to betray a sibling to survive, or a social worker who had to participate in a system they knew was harming the very people they wanted to help. Sometimes it’s not about what someone did—but about what they couldn't do. The inability to intervene, to stop harm, or to live in alignment with what they know is right can sit like a stone in the gut for years. It’s not always obvious if you're experiencing moral injury, especially because people often assume their emotional pain must be about something else—like depression, burnout, or just feeling "off." But if you find yourself haunted by something you did or didn’t do, if you feel a deep sense of guilt, shame, or regret that doesn’t seem to fade with time, or if you feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in some way, those can be signs. Maybe there's a part of you that still feels like you failed someone—or like you failed yourself. You might find it hard to talk about what happened because you worry that others won’t understand, or worse, that they’ll confirm the worst things you believe about yourself. Sometimes, it shows up as anger, isolation, or a kind of numbness that settles in because it feels safer than feeling everything all at once. Moral injury often leads to intense feelings of guilt, shame, or even self-loathing. People may replay events over and over again, wondering what they could have done differently. There can be a loss of trust—not just in others, but in themselves. Some folks find themselves questioning everything: their identity, their purpose, even their worthiness of healing. It’s a kind of soul wound that doesn't always have words, but it changes the way people relate to themselves and the world around them. What makes moral injury so painful is that it’s not just about what happened. It’s about what it meant. The meaning we make of these experiences can shape how we carry them. And because it’s tied to our values—what we believe is good and right—it can shake the foundation of how we see ourselves. Someone might look like they’re functioning just fine on the outside, but inside, they may be carrying deep grief, anger, or a sense of betrayal. Healing from moral injury takes time. It often involves not just processing what happened, but also reconnecting with one’s values and beginning to forgive themselves for making choices that are at odds with their internal sense of right and wrong. It can mean finding a way to make meaning out of what was once unbearable, to allow complexity where once there was only black-and-white thinking, and to remember that being human means we are sometimes put in impossible positions. If this is something you recognize in yourself, you’re not alone. Moral injury is real, and it deserves the same care and attention we would give to anything that causes pain. Moral injury is the result of having a conscience in an unjust or overwhelming situation. And while the pain is real, so is the possibility of healing. Childhood neglect can show up in adulthood in a lot of different ways, often in patterns that feel frustrating or confusing but make total sense when you trace them back to early experiences. Since neglect is the absence of consistent care and attunement, adults who experienced it may struggle with self-worth, relationships, and emotional regulation in ways that feel deeply ingrained. Some of these might be familiar to you.
1. Difficulty Recognizing or Expressing Needs If your needs were ignored or met with indifference, you may have learned to suppress them. As an adult, this can look like:
2. Chronic Self-Reliance or Hyper-Independence When caregivers weren’t reliably there, you might have learned early on that you could only rely on yourself. This can lead to:
3. Emotional Numbness or Dissociation Without consistent emotional validation, some people shut down their feelings as a survival strategy. This might show up as:
4. Fear of Intimacy or Connection Neglect can make relationships feel unsafe or unreliable. As an adult, you might experience:
5. Low Self-Worth & Inner Criticism When childhood neglect sends the message that your feelings or presence don’t matter, it can shape your self-image. This can look like:
6. Anxiety & Nervous System Dysregulation When a child grows up without a sense of security, their nervous system stays on high alert. As an adult, this can present as:
7. Struggles with Self-Care & Boundaries If no one modeled care for you, it can be hard to know how to care for yourself. This might mean:
Healing from childhood neglect means learning to give yourself what you didn’t receive—validation, care, and connection. It takes time, but even small steps toward recognizing your own needs, allowing yourself to be cared for, and challenging old beliefs can make a huge difference. Healing from childhood neglect is uniquely challenging because neglect isn’t always something we can clearly see or name. Unlike more overt forms of abuse, neglect is often the absence of something essential—love, attention, validation, or even basic care. That absence can leave deep wounds, but because there was nothing visible to point to, many people struggle to recognize how profoundly they were affected. And many of us find it difficult to explain to others how the abuse impacts us on a daily basis.
Neglect shapes your self-perception and relationships in ways that can be hard to untangle. If your emotional needs weren’t met as a child, you may have internalized the belief that your needs don’t matter, that you're a burden, or that you have to handle everything alone. That can make it difficult to trust others, express needs, or even recognize what you want in the first place. What can make it even harder is that healing from neglect often involves learning how to receive care—something that might feel deeply uncomfortable, even unsafe. If you grew up feeling like no one was there for you, the idea of leaning on someone else might trigger fear or resistance. It’s not just about understanding the past; it’s about rewiring how you relate to yourself and the world. Childhood neglect can also lead to long-term nervous system dysregulation. Without consistent emotional attunement from caregivers, the brain and body adapt to a world that feels unpredictable or indifferent. This can lead to hyper-independence, emotional numbness, or a constant sense of being on edge, all of which make healing a slow, often nonlinear process. Attunement is the process of being emotionally in sync with another person—being seen, heard, and understood in a way that makes you feel safe and connected. It’s one of the most crucial aspects of healthy childhood development because it teaches us how to regulate emotions, trust others, and form secure relationships. When a caregiver is attuned, they pick up on a child’s emotional and physical needs and respond appropriately. For example, if a baby cries, an attuned caregiver doesn’t just feed or change them mechanically; they also offer warmth, soothing, and eye contact. As the child grows, attunement looks like a parent noticing when their child is sad or overwhelmed and responding with comfort, validation, and guidance. This consistent responsiveness helps wire the child’s nervous system for safety and connection. When attunement isn’t present—like in cases of neglect--the child learns that their emotions and needs don’t elicit a response. Over time, they may stop expressing those needs altogether, dissociate from their feelings, or develop deep insecurity about whether they are lovable or worthy of care. In relationships, this can show up as difficulty trusting others, struggling to express emotions, or feeling like connection is always just out of reach. Healing from a lack of attunement often involves re-learning attunement in adulthood—first with yourself and then with safe others. This means getting curious about your own emotional world, noticing and validating your feelings instead of dismissing them, and learning how to respond to yourself with the care you may not have received as a child. In therapy or supportive relationships, experiencing attunement from another person—someone who truly sees you and responds with warmth and understanding—can be deeply reparative. Attunement isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. And learning to be present with yourself, even in small ways, is a powerful step toward healing. If you’ve been feeling anxious about the future of medications like SSRIs and ADHD prescriptions, you’re not alone. There’s been a lot of talk lately about possible changes to how these medications are prescribed—or even whether they’ll continue to be available at all. For those who rely on them to function and feel stable, this uncertainty can be overwhelming. First things first: what’s actually happening, what could happen, and—most importantly—what you can do right now to take care of yourself. What’s Going On? Recently, there’s been discussion at the government level about psychiatric medications, including SSRIs and ADHD treatments. Some officials have expressed skepticism about their widespread use and have signaled a desire to reassess how they’re prescribed. This has understandably set off alarm bells for a LOT of people who rely on these medications to manage anxiety, depression, ADHD, and other conditions. Myself included. Right now, though, nothing has changed. There is no immediate ban or restriction on these medications. Changes in healthcare policy take time—often years—because they require extensive review, medical input, and legal processes. So while it makes sense to stay informed, there’s no need to panic about losing access overnight. Could These Medications Be Outlawed? It’s understandable to fear worst-case scenarios, but a full ban on SSRIs or ADHD medications is unlikely. These medications are prescribed to millions of people, and the medical community strongly supports their continued availability. Any proposed changes would face significant pushback from healthcare providers, researchers, advocacy groups, and patients themselves. What’s more likely is a push for tighter regulations around prescribing practices rather than a complete removal of these medications. This could mean adjustments in how they’re prescribed but not an outright ban. (There are people who think these medications aren't necessary or that folks are "addicted" to them, but understanding the mechanism of these medications can help you understand that you're not addicted any more than a diabetic is addicted to insulin. Don't feel guilty or called out by the words being used. This aside is more emotional than the informational nature of this post, but man, what's being said is damaging!) What Can You Do Right Now? Even though there’s no immediate threat to your medication access, uncertainty can still feel scary. Here are some things you can do to help ease that anxiety:
You Deserve Stability and Support If you’re feeling overwhelmed by all this, know that your feelings are completely valid. Change—even the possibility of it—can be really unsettling, especially when it comes to something as essential as mental health care. But you’re not fighting alone here. There are so many people—doctors, advocates, therapists, and even policymakers—who are fighting to make sure mental health care remains accessible. For now, take it one step at a time. Focus on what’s in your control today, and remember that there are always options and people ready to support you along the way. We’re all familiar with the term “trickle-down economics,” a theory that promises prosperity will flow from the top and eventually reach everyone else. But more often than not, those benefits never seem to arrive for the folks at the bottom. What if I told you there’s a similar phenomenon in the realm of leadership culture? I call it trickle-down narcissism. And just like its economic counterpart, it often fails to benefit anyone except those in positions of power. Trickle-down narcissism occurs when the self-absorbed, exploitative, and image-obsessed tendencies of leaders permeate an entire organization or structure. This dynamic isn’t limited to businesses—it can show up in governments, educational institutions, or any system where hierarchies exist. And just as power and influence flow downward, so too does dysfunction. The Domino Effect: From those with power to those without When narcissism is embedded at the top, it creates a ripple effect that shapes workplace culture, policies, and relationships. Leaders driven by self-interest often prioritize their public image, control, and personal gain over the well-being of their teams or constituents. This isn’t just a leadership problem; it becomes a systemic issue. People often find themselves navigating an environment characterized by:
The Stanford Prison Experiment Connection One of the most compelling illustrations of how power structures influence behavior comes from the infamous Stanford Prison Experiment. Participants assigned to positions of authority quickly internalized their roles, adopting authoritarian and dehumanizing behaviors. The experiment demonstrated how environmental and structural factors can profoundly shape people’s actions. Trickle-down narcissism operates in a similar way. When those at the top normalize self-serving and dismissive behavior, it encourages similar patterns among managers, supervisors, and even peers. People may adopt these behaviors as a survival strategy or simply internalize them as “the way things are.” Signs of Trickle-Down Narcissism in Organizations It might not always be obvious, but there are telltale signs that trickle-down narcissism is at play:
The Psychological Shift for those not in powerful positions Over time, working in a narcissistic environment takes a psychological toll. Employees may experience:
Why the Structure Matters Trickle-down narcissism isn’t just about a bad "boss" or two. It’s about how leadership structures and policies reinforce toxic dynamics. When systems prioritize power, control, and image over people’s well-being, narcissistic tendencies become normalized. But here’s the good news: structures can change. Hope for Change: Moving Away from Trickle-Down Narcissism Empathy, transparency, and accountability can also flow downward. Just as dysfunction can permeate a system, so can compassion and healthy leadership practices. To break the cycle of trickle-down narcissism, organizations can:
Conclusion: Breaking the Cycle Trickle-down narcissism thrives in environments where power goes unchecked and self-interest reigns supreme. But it doesn’t have to be this way. By shifting leadership practices and fostering healthier structures, we can create environments where empathy, collaboration, and well-being are the norms. However, we can’t expect these changes to come from those in power. Businesses and governments often prioritize profit and control over people. It’s up to individuals and communities to speak out, hold leadership accountable, and demand environments that value humanity over hierarchy. When enough voices rise, change becomes not just possible—it becomes inevitable. Anger can feel like a heavy weight sometimes, like it’s sitting right in your chest, ready to explode—or maybe more like it’s simmering quietly in the background. When you’ve experienced trauma, anger often gets tangled up in ways that are hard to make sense of. It can be overwhelming, confusing, and even scary. But it’s important to know that anger, in and of itself, isn’t bad. It’s part of being human. And if you’ve been through something traumatic, your anger makes sense. It’s a response to something being wrong, unfair, or unsafe.
When you think about anger, you might associate it with a sense of loss of control or even shame. But let’s flip that narrative a bit. Anger is a signal. It’s your mind and body saying, “Something here needs attention.” Maybe it’s telling you that a boundary was crossed, or it’s helping you process grief or fear. For many people who’ve experienced trauma, anger might be one of the first emotions that surfaces because it’s protective—it’s like a shield your brain uses to keep you safe. At the same time, we can experience a fear of being judged for anger. Maybe you’ve felt like people see anger as “too much” or “unacceptable.” Maybe you’ve been told things like, “Why are you so sensitive?” or “You need to calm down,” when all you were doing was expressing how you felt. It makes sense that we hide our anger, worried we'll be labeled as difficult, irrational, or even dangerous. This fear of judgment can be especially strong for trauma survivors. You might already feel disconnected or like you have to work harder to be “acceptable” to others. Anger, in this context, can feel like one more thing that makes you vulnerable to rejection or misunderstanding. But here’s the truth: anger isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s a valid emotional response, just like sadness or joy. Right now, there’s a lot happening in the world that can make anger feel even more present. From systemic injustices to the constant news of crises, it’s not just personal struggles that ignite this emotion--it’s a collective sense of frustration, helplessness, or even outrage. If you’ve felt a spike in anger lately, you’re not alone, and you’re not “overreacting.” Sometimes anger is how our systems cry out for justice. For trauma survivors, anger can also get complicated by the messages they’ve received. Maybe you were taught to suppress it, to push it down because “good people don’t get angry.” Or maybe you’ve had experiences where expressing anger led to rejection or punishment. When that happens, anger doesn’t just go away. It gets stuck. It might show up in ways you don’t expect—like snapping at loved ones, struggling with sleep, or feeling like you’re carrying around constant tension. One of the hardest things about dealing with anger is giving yourself permission to feel it without judging it. That’s easier said than done, I know. But anger doesn’t have to control you, and it doesn’t have to burn you out. It’s about figuring out what’s underneath it. Sometimes, it’s pain. Sometimes, it’s fear. And sometimes, it’s a deep desire for things to be different. Anger is often trying to tell us something important. When you sit with it, when you listen to it, it can guide you toward what matters most to you—whether it’s healing from the past or fighting for a better future. And when you pair that with compassion for yourself, you can start to untangle it, bit by bit. I just want you to know that it's okay to sometimes not feel okay. It's okay to feel anger. Sit with it, feel it, understand it. Anger has a purpose and it'll tell you what its purpose is if you give it space to tell you. Your shadow self is the part of you that you’ve buried or hidden away, often without even realizing it, since you were a child. When we’re young, we absorb countless messages from the people we love about what parts of us are “good” and what parts are “bad.” Maybe you were praised for being polite or for sharing your toys, or perhaps you heard things like, “Don’t be selfish,” or “Good kids don’t act that way.” As children, we don’t yet have the ability to step back and decide what to take personally. Everything feels like it’s about us, and we internalize it all.
If someone we deeply love and depend on tells us we’re being bad or doing something wrong, we might start to believe that there’s something inherently wrong with us. To protect ourselves, we try to focus on the traits that earn love and approval—like being helpful, agreeable, or quiet. At the same time, we might start pushing down other parts of ourselves—our wants, needs, or feelings—especially if we were punished or shamed for expressing them. For example, maybe you learned early on that expressing anger wasn’t acceptable, or that crying too much made people uncomfortable. Over time, you might have hidden those emotions to fit in and feel safe. As these messages pile up, they start to form the beliefs we hold about ourselves. We might believe we’re only lovable when we’re accommodating, or that wanting things for ourselves is selfish. These beliefs become so ingrained that we rarely stop to question them. But here’s the truth: just because you believe something doesn’t mean it’s true. Many of the stories we carry about ourselves are based on misunderstandings or on someone else’s subjective opinions. Recognizing this can be a powerful step toward freeing ourselves from these limiting beliefs. This process often happens without us realizing it, and it’s shaped by the messages we receive. For some of us, those messages were direct and harsh—like being scolded or punished for wanting attention, for being “too much,” or for having big emotions. As a result, we create a kind of mask, or false self, to protect us and keep others happy. This mask becomes our way of surviving, but it can also keep us disconnected from who we really are. It’s important to understand that the shadow self doesn’t just hold what we might call “negative” traits. It can also include beautiful and creative parts of us that weren’t nurtured or celebrated. Think about a child who loves to draw or sing but grows up in a household where academic success is prioritized. They might hear things like, “Stop wasting time,” or “Focus on what really matters,” and begin to believe that their artistic passions aren’t valuable. Over time, they may disconnect from those parts of themselves, tucking away talents and joys that felt dismissed or unimportant. When we’re unaware of our shadow self, it has a way of showing up in how we see and judge others. For example, if you find yourself quick to label someone as selfish or arrogant, it might be worth reflecting on whether those traits exist in some small way within you—and whether you’ve been denying or avoiding them. It’s a hard truth to sit with, but the things that irritate us most about others often point to parts of ourselves that we’ve disowned. Sometimes, we even overcompensate by doing the opposite, like going out of our way to prove how generous or humble we are, as a way of avoiding our own discomfort. This projection isn’t limited to the so-called “bad” traits, either. We also project positive qualities onto others. Maybe you’ve admired someone so much that they seem larger than life, like they’ve got it all figured out. It’s easy to forget that the qualities you see in them—their confidence, kindness, creativity—also exist within you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to recognize them in the first place. When we do the work of exploring our shadow self, we can start to see and reclaim those hidden strengths and gifts in ourselves. At its core, your shadow self isn’t something to fear or avoid. It’s a part of you that’s longing to be seen and accepted. When we take the time to gently acknowledge and integrate these hidden parts—both the messy, complicated pieces and the beautiful, creative ones—we become more whole. Meeting your shadow self is really about meeting your full humanity. It’s about holding space for every part of who you are, even the parts you’ve been taught to hide. And as you learn to embrace all of yourself, you’ll find it becomes much easier to offer that same compassion and acceptance to others. This is the path to living as your fully expressed, authentic self. Yes, it’s vulnerable work, and it takes courage. But the rewards—a deeper connection to yourself and to the world around you—are so worth it. Why Do I Feel so Jealous??
Do you ever just get these feelings of jealousy when friends do something without you or when you feel left out and unseen by people you value highly? I know how hard and uncomfortable jealousy can be, but it’s often misunderstood. While jealousy may seem like a petty or irrational emotion- something that only happens when someone is insecure or selfish- for people with childhood trauma, jealousy may instead be touching on old wounds and unmet needs from the past. How Jealousy Shows Up Particularly for those of us who experienced trauma in childhood, jealousy can reflect deeper fears and long-held beliefs about love, worth, and belonging. In relationships, you might find yourself feeling intensely jealous when your partner interacts with someone else, especially if they are close friends or colleagues. This isn't just about fear of infidelity; it can feel like a fear of abandonment, a fear that the love and attention you've always craved might be pulled away at any moment. In some cases, it reflects a deep insecurity about whether you’re truly valued, a feeling that you’ve carried with you for as long as you remember. Jealous feelings can also come up in friendships. You might feel like you’re being left behind, whether it's seeing a friend form a new bond or feeling like you’re not as important to them as you used to be. For folks with childhood trauma, this often stems from a history of feeling overlooked or unloved, making the fear of being replaced or abandoned feel overwhelming. Sometimes, jealousy shows up internally, perhaps when you see someone else achieving something you want or having something you think you’ll never have. This feeling of inadequacy may come from childhood, where love, approval, or success were tied to conditions or were inconsistently given. Jealousy in these cases might feel like a reminder of your own perceived shortcomings. So why does this happen? When you experience trauma in childhood—whether it's neglect, emotional abuse, or being parentified (put in a position where you're forced to take on adult responsibilities too early), it can leave lasting scars. These wounds shape how you see yourself and the world around you, and jealousy can emerge as a symptom of the deeper pain you're carrying. For someone who grew up with inconsistent or unreliable caregivers, there’s often a deep, underlying fear of abandonment - that those who love them will eventually leave. This fear can amplify feelings of jealousy, as the possibility of being replaced or discarded feels too familiar. Trauma can create a sense of emotional deprivation—like there was never enough affection, attention, or validation growing up. As a result, when someone experiences a sense of being “left out” or “not enough,” jealousy can arise as an emotional response to that lack. In these cases, the jealousy might not even be about the other person—it’s about the unmet emotional need that’s being triggered. Childhood trauma can also create deep-seated feelings of low self-worth. When you feel unworthy of love, success, or attention, seeing someone else experience those things can stir up jealousy. It’s not just about wanting what they have, but about not being sure that you even deserve it for yourself. So what can you do? It’s hard. You can still do it. The hardest part of emotions is accepting them. It’s easy to beat yourself up for feeling jealous, but it’s important to approach the feeling with compassion. Jealousy doesn’t make you a bad person—it’s just an emotion, and it’s telling you something about your deeper fears or unmet needs. Acknowledging the feeling is the first step toward healing it. Try to dig deeper into where your jealousy is coming from. Are there past wounds being triggered? Is there a fear of abandonment or not being good enough? Journaling or talking to a therapist about these feelings can help you make sense of them and understand their roots. Trauma often leads to the belief that you’re not worthy of love or success, but these beliefs aren’t facts—they’re just patterns formed by past experiences. Begin to question these beliefs by reminding yourself of your value and accomplishments. It will take time, but learning to see your own value can decrease the feelings that jealousy is rooted in. In relationships, it’s important to communicate about feelings of jealousy, especially if they’re triggered by past wounds. Talking about your feelings can bring understanding and reassurance from your partner or friends, which can help ease the fears that fuel jealousy. Hardest of all, you may need to engage in self-compassion. Healing from childhood trauma is a journey, and part of that is learning to be kind to yourself when emotions like jealousy arise. Remember that you’re working to unlearn old patterns, and it's okay to experience setbacks along the way. Be gentle with yourself. |
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