Navigating the Silent Grief: Healing from the Absence of a Nurturing Caregiver

When someone experiences complex trauma, there is often a high likelihood that they have not had a nurturing caregiver. While it’s hopeful that they may have had at least one supportive figure in their life, the reality is that many people might not have had anyone at all. In psychology, much emphasis is placed on healing from childhood trauma and developing the skills needed to engage with the world in a healthy way. However, what is less frequently addressed is the profound grief and pain that comes from not having the caregivers every child needs and deserves.

This grief can manifest in various ways, such as feeling deep sadness when witnessing others share close relationships with their mothers or observing the bond between mothers and daughters expressed through hugs, laughter, or simple activities like shopping together. There is a unique pain in recognizing the absence of a supportive, loving parental figure and in facing life’s challenges without that foundational relationship. This aspect of the healing journey is rarely discussed, yet it is crucial to processing and understanding the full impact of growing up without a nurturing caregiver.

In some ways, this may also be an invisible grief. When a person loses a family member, there are often funerals and other social gatherings to help them cope with the loss. But in cases of complex trauma, a person might have one or more caregivers who are still alive but who, instead of providing nurturance, create the very turmoil from which the child needs protection. Tragically, in many situations, there might be no one to turn to when the war is raging at home—the one place that should be safe. This child has no one looking out for them, no one to recognize the trauma they are experiencing, and no one to ensure they are okay after the conflict subsides. Though the child might be surrounded by people, they may still feel utterly alone.

How does a child cope with this reality? Children are limited by their experiences, so to them, this might seem completely normal, something that happens day in and day out. The child might not even mention it to others because it seems so ordinary, leading to missed opportunities for support. As a result, the world might not recognize the loss the child is enduring, and the child might not fully understand or process it either. There is an evolutionary purpose to this phenomenon, of course. The child's experience might be even worse if they fully recognized that things shouldn’t be this way, that there is another, healthier way to engage with the world that they, unfortunately, do not have access to. Sometimes, not knowing one is in a war makes the war a little more bearable.

When and if the child or adult begins to recognize what they have experienced, how does one even grieve such a profound loss? As humans, we are wired to seek security with our caregivers; this is not only a psychological and emotional need but also an evolutionary one. In moments like these, words often fall short of capturing the depth of this grief. As with any loss, the only healthy option is to feel the loss. As humans, we are built to survive and to run away from what our body and brain perceive as danger. We are designed to avoid even the smallest threats, so the danger of not having a caregiver to protect us from life's challenges is one of the most significant dangers our bodies can perceive. It is therefore understandable that a person might not want to face the fear and pain of their loss. Perhaps the individual may never be ready to face this loss, and that’s okay. We are all just doing the best we can, and that is all we can do. However, to move on from the loss, one must go through the process of grief, which means allowing and feeling whatever emotions arise. Though emotions can feel very scary, they generally cannot harm us if we allow them to be released as they come.

The individual might go through a wide range of emotions. They can experience different emotions at any time, but for the sake of understanding, these emotions can be described in a linear fashion. Anger might be the first stop. Anger feels more powerful, so people usually experience its intensity first—anger at a god or the universe for the hand they’ve been dealt, anger at the cruelty and unfairness of not having something as basic and essential as nurturing parents. How is this fair? Research shows that a child’s family environment has one of the most significant influences on their brain and life trajectory. So the hand one is dealt can have a profound impact on their life. As a result, the consequences of a difficult childhood can accumulate over time, leading to further hardship.

In some ways, experiencing anger is also a way of distancing oneself from reality. It’s the brain’s way of resisting the loss by not fully accepting it. By focusing on the unfairness of the situation, one can avoid confronting the deep sadness and pain that comes with it.

Eventually, the person may begin to accept the loss and the reality that life is not fair. It’s natural to dwell on what is missing and to feel sorry for oneself, asking, “Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn’t I have had safe and nurturing parents?” The reality is that there is no rhyme or reason for this situation. It is random, and it is what it is. It’s also important to realize that life is not black and white, and everyone faces challenges in some area of their life. No one’s life is perfect, though it’s easy to assume otherwise. This belief only amplifies the pain a person feels, further alienating them from others. The thought that others have it better or that their background is superior can make one feel inferior, intensifying the pain. Recognizing and intentionally reframing negative self-beliefs is a crucial part of the healing process.

To move on from something, one must go through it. In healthy healing, over time, the person becomes better equipped to confront their pain in a less defended way. Avoidance is one of the factors that keeps pain and anxiety alive. By avoiding an experience, one reinforces the message to the brain that facing the experience is dangerous and that they lack the tools to cope with it. As a person begins to confront their emotions, they learn that, though intense and impactful, these emotions are temporary. The experience will come in waves—there will be moments of heightened intensity, but eventually, the pain will subside. Initially, the person might need to set aside intentional time to process their emotions, but eventually, it may become a natural part of their life and existence. The sadness and pain will likely always be a part of the individual’s life because a parent is something everyone needs and craves, no matter their age or circumstances. But perhaps, with time, it will hurt a little less each season.

So, there is hope. Humans are resilient. We can even flourish after great tragedy and loss. Life must go on, no matter what we lose or go through. The responsibilities of the next day will surely arrive. Though humans are resilient, it does not mean that healing is easy. It requires a great deal of intention, strength, and resources to move beyond the loss.

If this resonates with your experience, I am deeply sorry. It can be incredibly difficult not to have had a loving mother to protect, guide, and care for you. For those who haven’t had this, it’s hard to imagine what it’s like, but it seems like one of life’s most precious gifts. I wish you peace, strength, and love as you navigate your journey. Know that you are not alone—others understand what you are going through. I hope you can find ways to create connections that provide the love, caregiving, and validation that every human deserves.