The Guilt That Won’t Let Go

Lately, I’ve been feeling this guilt again — the kind that whispers I’m the problem child. Here I go, once more, with everything circling back to me. What my mother did to me. What my father said and did to her in response. The arguments. The screaming. The blame. All of it… somehow centered around me.

It started to feel like my presence alone was bothersome — like I took up too much space just by existing. And I didn’t know how to escape that. So I did what I could: I chose the abuse and tried to make it less about me every time. I hid my scars from my dad. I went to bed early or pulled away when he came home, just so she wouldn’t see the love he gave me.

Back then, I didn’t understand that he was also part of the problem. He’d stay out late, then walk in and cover me in affection — and every time, it made her jealous. The nights they fought about me always led to worse treatment the next day. I started to notice the pattern. So I braced for it. I took the abuse because deep down, I knew no one was coming to save me.

Silence Was My Survival

Every day I stayed in that house was a reminder: I’m the problem child. I cried too loud — so I taught myself to cry in silence. I still remember the look on her face when she realized that. It brought her a kind of twisted pleasure, knowing she could now do whatever she wanted to me, and my screams would no longer interrupt her power.

I became quiet. Submissive. Not because I was weak — but because I was trying to survive. I thought if I stayed quiet, I might suffer less. But the message stayed the same: I was the problem.

As I got older, the problems still seemed to revolve around me. But I began to understand why — she didn’t love me. And that was the problem between her and my father. Instead of doing what was right, instead of protecting me, he left me there. Again and again. He saw what was happening and still chose to walk away — leaving me behind in the same cycle that broke me.

So I carried it all. Her rage. His silence. Their mess. I made room for all of it, thinking maybe that was just my role. But the feeling of being the problem child never really left me. It followed me, even into my relationship with my sister.

The Jealousy That Shattered My World

I started to feel targeted by her too. And then one day, she said it out loud — that she was jealous of me. That my father showed me more affection. That he loved me more.

To this day, I wish I could unhear that. My world shook in just a matter of seconds.

She was the one person I thought saw everything clearly. The one person I believed understood how bad it really was. But instead of standing with me, she resented me — for something I never asked for. For something I had no control over.

Once again, I felt like the problem.

I ask myself over and over again: What is so wrong with me?
What is it about me that made everyone so jealous… so cruel?

I didn’t fight back. I wasn’t loud. I wasn’t a troublemaker. I never hit anyone. I kept my head down. I tried to be good. So what was it?

The Truth I’m Struggling With

And the only answer I can see now is this: there was never anything wrong with me. They just needed someone to blame, and all the fears they refused to face had to land somewhere. I was the easiest one to carry it all.

Even now, as an adult, I still feel like the problem child. The grown-up part of me understands that I wasn’t the problem. But my inner child still can’t comprehend that. She’s deeply wounded. She holds the key to the evidence room — the one filled with every moment that seemed to prove she was the issue. And she visits that room often, convinced it holds the truth.

The challenge is, I can’t just tell her it didn’t happen — because it did. Those experiences were real. What I want her to know is that those moments don’t define her. That room, no matter how full it is, is not the full story.

But how do I help her believe that without erasing her pain?
How do I say, “You’re not the problem,” while also honoring what she lived through?

That’s the tension I carry — learning to hold both truths at once: Yes, this happened. Yes, it hurt. And no, it was never your fault.

Take Away

I’m still learning how to untangle myself from those old beliefs. Some days, the inner child wins. Other days, the adult in me gently whispers, You were never the problem. You were just a child looking for love.

And I know I can’t do this work alone. Getting support — especially through therapy — is helping me better understand and care for that wounded part of me. She deserves healing. And so do I.

I didn’t walk away to hurt anyone. I walked away to stop hurting myself.

But even now, walking away from my family sometimes makes me feel like the problem all over again. Because no one else chose to leave. No one else broke the pattern. So when I did, the silence that followed felt like confirmation — like I was the issue all along.

But the truth is, I didn’t break the family. I broke the cycle. I didn’t leave to punish anyone. I left to finally protect me.

Resources for Continued Healing

If this post resonated with you, you’re not alone. Below is a resource that dives deeper into healing the inner child who was unfairly blamed or silenced.
📺 Video: When the Inner Child Feels Like the Problem – Patrick Teahan, LICSW
A trauma therapist breaks down why you might still feel like the “problem” in adulthood, and how to begin separating from that false belief.