The emotional gaslighting of parental indifference
When silence becomes the wound
We often think of childhood wounds in terms of what was done to us—chaos, control, rage, abandonment. But sometimes, it’s what wasn’t done that cuts the deepest.
Parental indifference in adulthood is a quiet kind of grief.
It’s not explosive. There’s no dramatic betrayal to point to. Just... a lack. Of curiosity. Of follow-up. Of presence. You share something meaningful, and it floats into a void. No response. No questions. Just the hollow echo of “this doesn’t matter.”
And what makes it so hard to name is that the world doesn’t see it.
No one throws around words like “abuse” when you say your mom never asks how you're doing. Or that your dad forgot your birthday. Again. Or that the only time they call is when they need something.
And because there’s no obvious harm to point to, it’s easy for others (and even yourself) to dismiss it. The world doesn’t see indifference as a wound—but your nervous system does.
And so you start wondering… Am I making a big deal out of nothing? Is it just me?
Should I just be grateful?
That’s where the emotional gaslighting kicks in—not from them, but from inside you. You start minimizing, explaining, excusing.
“They’ve done so much for me. I shouldn’t complain.”
“Maybe I’m just too sensitive.”
“This is just how adulthood is—everyone grows apart.”
But here’s the truth: being ignored is not neutral.
Being met with indifference doesn’t just bounce off your skin. It hits the younger parts of you that never felt fully seen to begin with.
It’s especially confusing when your adult self knows your parents aren’t emotionally equipped. But your inner child? That part still whispers:
“If I mattered more, they’d care.”
How It Shows Up:
You’re the only one who initiates calls or visits.
They don’t ask questions about your life—or even remember what’s going on.
Big moments pass without acknowledgment.
You get more curiosity from strangers than from the people who raised you.
You suppress needs, shrink your stories, or pretend everything’s fine—because expecting more just leads to disappointment.
And eventually, you stop reaching out. Not out of anger, but out of self-preservation.
How It Shapes You:
You struggle to trust people who do take an interest.
You feel like you have to earn attention—or that it will always expire.
You internalize the message: “I’m too much. I talk too much. I want too much.”
You decide: I’ll stop expecting anything. I’ll just do it all myself.
That’s not maturity. That’s protection.
What Starts to Heal It:
We often think the antidote to neglect is self-love. And yes, learning to validate yourself is part of the work.
But here's what I’ve also seen—and what came up in this past week’s Shitshow Saturday group:
Sometimes the deepest repair happens when someone else finally sees you.
When someone asks how you are—and actually waits for the answer.
When someone remembers something you said last week.
When someone shows interest in your healing and doesn’t disappear.
Those moments? They matter.
Because the parts of us that were ignored don’t just want to be strong.
They want to be seen. Noticed. Checked in on. Held.
If any of this resonates, I invite you to listen to this week’s Shitshow Saturday episode—a live recording from one of our recent support groups where we talked about this exact experience.
🎙️ Listen here!
You’re not the only one carrying this. And you don’t have to carry it alone.
With love (and zero indifference),
Andrea