
From Roses to Thorns: How Loved Ones Cause the Deepest Pain
Feb 10
5 min read
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Some of the deepest emotional wounds we carry don't come from enemies or strangers—they come from the people we love the most. These people are the ones we trust with our hearts, and when they break it, it leaves a lasting effect on our hearts and souls. Love is supposed to be forever and give us strength, not harm us.
Most of my painful moments in life came from my mother and father—the very people meant to guide me through life, to protect me. I kept all of the painful moments bottled up, and it took a toll on my mental health. When I made a choice to heal my inner child and reparented myself, I saw how powerful love can be in a destructive way. However, if we seek compassion and understanding when the people we love hurt us, it can give us power over emotional pain even though it shakes the foundation of what we thought we knew about love, trust, and safety.
I wish I could say, "I have never hurt anyone I loved," but that would be a lie. Unfortunately, I have emotionally hurt the people I love. I had unresolved issues inside me and painful moments in my childhood that I kept a secret. That secret took away the love I had for myself, and I replaced it with anger. Without self-love, it was easier to hurt the ones I loved emotionally. Forgiveness is never easy. Sometimes, the emotional pain is so deep it takes years to accept the apology, as forgiveness is a difficult dance; it always takes two to tango.
Pain is a part of life; we all know this. We can't go through life unscathed. Yet, some moments leave scars too deep to fully "get over."
For example, my father's abandonment in my youth hurt. In my 40s, I forgave him and set boundaries, and for two years, things were fine. I healed and gained understanding from my past, and those two years were so crucial to improving my mental health and becoming the best version of myself. Sadly, he reverted to his cantankerous ways and became his "old abusive self," and all the progress we made together was gone. It hurt to see the relationship disintegrate, but I was mentally stronger this time around because I put in the work of healing and setting firm boundaries. Therefore, when I forgave my father, I was hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
The "silent treatment" is another way people deal with emotional pain. For example, there is my mother, the one who made choices in life that suited her needs when I was a child. Her choices left me vulnerable, leading to experiences of sexual abuse and mental anguish. I forgave her, too, like my father. My mother and I had a good run for fifteen years, yet it was all destroyed by one phone call. My mother told me she was disappointed in me, and in that span of fifteen years, she has been hiding she had been sour at me and expected more out of me for the past fifteen years. That call blindsided me, and emotional rage welled up inside of me. I did not know how to handle it. Instead of asking for help, I tried to bury the pain as I did in my youth, but it was too much for me to handle by myself.
That one phone call affected my mental health. For months, I was in a freefall, leading to a nosedive into one of the darkest moments of my life. I found myself lying in a hospital bed from self-inflicted wounds, and my soul and spirit were broken; in hindsight, I should have sought professional help and had my mother help guide me through this horrific moment in my life, but my mother made an important choice in her life that day that left ripples in my life. She chose to go to a cookout over visiting me and embraced the "silent treatment." That was seven years ago, and I still haven't talked to her since. The reality is that even after forgiveness, some people remain the same or eventually go back to their old ways. These two events left me with a deeper ache than I anticipated. That kind of hurt lingers today, but I learned to make my peace with it for the sake of my mental health.
Those are just examples of my emotional pain. Yet that is my pain to heal from; I must own it and process it. Your story of pain is just as valid because it's all the same. Pain isn't a competition. There's no prize for who suffers the most- all pain hurts.
But what does forgiveness do? Does it lessen the pain? Does silence make the hurt disappear, or does it settle quietly into our souls, lingering there? I don't have all the answers. What I do know is that pain cuts deeper when it comes from someone we love, especially when that person shares our blood.
So, what should we do? Should we withdraw from love, fearing the hurt that may follow? Should we shield ourselves from vulnerability, hoping it will protect us from the sting of betrayal? To live fully, we must take risks. Love is a risk, forgiveness is a risk, vulnerability is a risk, and being your authentic self is a risk. These risks may bring love or heartbreak. Yet, love makes life meaningful. For much of my life, I tried to hide from my emotional pain. I believed that I had to be strong and put on a brave face; I thought if I could just shut out emotional pain, I'd be free from it; I was wrong.
Life is about learning to live with pain, not avoiding it. It's about finding the courage to be vulnerable, even when those closest to us are the ones who wound us. Pain will visit us, but it doesn't have to define us. We gain power over pain when we can still find love, compassion, and understanding in our hearts despite it. Forgiveness doesn't erase the hurt. It doesn't absolve the person who caused it. But it does set us free. It allows us to move forward without being weighed down by the bitterness of the past.
I wish someone had told me in my youth that pain and love go hand in hand and will always be intertwined in my life's journey. I want someone to say that our true strength lies when we can still find it in ourselves to love, even after being wounded by the people we love the most. Most of all, I wish someone had told me there is power in vulnerability. It's not about shielding ourselves from pain but finding the courage to rise above it and love anyway.