🔗 This piece is Part 2 of: The 8 Hidden Wounds That Shape How We Parent — and How to Gently Break the Cycle
Discover Pete Walker’s 4 abuses and 4 neglects — how they echo through us as parents, and how to soften them with real tools, reflections, and free gentle guides.
🪶 When words wound deeper than we knew
Not all scars are on the skin.
Some live in our inner voice — the one that whispers, You’re so stupid, when we forget the keys, or shouts, Get it together, when we’re tired.
Maybe you remember being called lazy, dramatic, selfish, or a crybaby.
Maybe the room filled with sarcasm instead of fists: Oh, look who finally decided to help.
Maybe silence cut sharper than words — the cold withdrawal of love when you didn’t meet expectations.
We say to ourselves: I will never speak that way to my kids.
But then bedtime drags on, toys scatter everywhere, siblings fight, and before we know it, our voice rises — louder, harsher, meaner than we wanted.
And we see our child’s eyes widen with the same hurt we once felt.
“Words are singularly the most powerful force available to humanity. We can choose to use this force constructively, or destructively.” — Yehuda Berg
🔥 How this old wound shows up in daily life
Verbal and emotional abuse in childhood often looks like:
- Yelling or screaming as the default response
- Mockery, name-calling, sarcasm
- Shaming (“What’s wrong with you?”)
- Humiliation in front of others
- Threats or constant criticism
- The silent treatment
Even if “no hands were laid on us,” the nervous system still received the message: Love is conditional. My worth is fragile. I must perform to be safe.
Today, the echoes may look like:
- Snapping, “Why can’t you ever listen?!” when your child forgets their shoes.
- Mocking your child’s tears with, “Oh, poor baby.”
- Using threats as shorthand: “If you don’t stop, you’re grounded forever.”
- Sarcasm in moments of stress: “Great, now we’re late because of you.”
- Withdrawing love: “I don’t even want to look at you right now.”
Many of us find ourselves here not because we are cruel, but because these scripts are wired into us. They spill out under stress, the same way they once spilled onto us.
🌾 Why it stays hidden: “It’s just words”
One of the most damaging myths around verbal abuse is that “it’s not as bad as hitting.”
But research shows otherwise. Neuroscientists have found that children exposed to chronic verbal aggression show changes in brain structures linked to emotional regulation and self-worth — as real and lasting as physical harm. (Teicher et al., 2006)
The danger is subtle: bruises fade, but inner narratives echo for decades. A child raised on shame often grows into an adult who shames themselves before anyone else can.
🔄 Why we repeat it — even when we promised not to
Pete Walker notes that many survivors of verbal abuse develop strong inner critics. These critics often become external critics when we parent.
When our child refuses to put on shoes, the old part inside us whispers: They’re disrespecting you. They don’t care about you. You’re failing.
Suddenly our voice sharpens. The rage or sarcasm is not coming from our calm Self — it’s coming from a part that once learned survival through attack or withdrawal.
Richard Schwartz’s IFS framework reminds us: the protector parts that lash out in words are often shielding a vulnerable exile — the child inside us who felt powerless, humiliated, or unseen.
🧩 Tiny ways this might appear
- Shouting at your child when they spill juice: “Why do you always make a mess?”
- Sighing with exaggerated frustration: “Unbelievable. You’re impossible.”
- Using comparisons: “Why can’t you be more like your sister?”
- Freezing them out after conflict — not making eye contact, not responding.
- Sarcasm that sounds like a joke but cuts deep: “Nice job. You’re really helping.”
Children, like we once were, don’t have the filter to think, They’re just stressed, they don’t mean it.
They take the words literally. I’m impossible. I’m bad. I ruin everything.
🪞 If this is you — you’re not broken
If you’ve ever heard your own voice echo your parents’ or teachers’ — sharp, sarcastic, belittling — it doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It means your nervous system is showing you where the old wound still lives.
And noticing it is already the first interruption.
🧘 IFS: Meeting your inner critic
When your words come out harsher than you intended, pause afterward and ask:
- Who inside me just spoke?
- How old does this part feel?
- What is it protecting me from right now?
- What would it rather do, if it felt safe?
You may discover that your sharpest tones come from a teenager inside who was once mocked, or from a small child who was once shamed into silence.
By turning toward this part with compassion, you loosen its grip. You remind it: You don’t have to keep fighting with words. I’m here now.
🌾 What happens if we don’t pause
A child who grows up under sharp words learns lessons that sink deep:
- My feelings are too much.
- Love can vanish if I get it wrong.
- I’m only valuable when I please others.
- Anger means humiliation is coming.
Later in life, that child may silence themselves in relationships, over-apologize, or grow an inner critic so fierce it never lets them rest. And when they become parents, the critic often spills outward — unless we find a gentler way.
🗝️ Repair: the step most of us never received
Many of us never heard an adult say, “I shouldn’t have spoken that way. You didn’t deserve it.”
But repair is the bridge between rupture and resilience.
It doesn’t erase pain. It teaches a child that even when love falters, it returns.
Examples of repair after harsh words:
- “I shouted, and that wasn’t okay. You didn’t deserve that.”
- “I said something unkind. I was frustrated, but my words hurt. I’m sorry.”
- “Your feelings matter. I got too loud to hear them. Let’s try again.”
- “I will work on being calmer. You are safe with me.”
Repair does not make you weak. It makes you trustworthy.
🌿 Gentle discipline: strong boundaries without shame
Parents often fear that without harsh words, discipline will collapse into chaos.
But discipline without shame is not permissive — it is protective.
Boundaries spoken with calm, firm clarity are stronger than threats or humiliation.
Real-world examples:
- Instead of: “You’re impossible. Stop whining or I’ll lose it.”
Try: “I hear that you want more. I won’t give it right now. I know that’s hard.” - Instead of: “Why can’t you be like your sister?”
Try: “Each of you has your own way. I want to understand your way right now.” - Instead of sarcasm: “Great, thanks for nothing.”
Try: “I need help. Let’s do this together.”
For teens:
- Instead of shouting after a slammed door: “You’re so disrespectful!”
Try: “I won’t yell. I’ll come back when I can listen calmly. The door must stay unbroken.”
Boundaries plus dignity = safety.
🌾 A family ritual: Safe Words
Try ending the day with a ritual of healing language. At bedtime or mealtime, share simple affirmations:
For your child:
- “You are loved, even when we argue.”
- “My words are learning to be gentle. I will keep practicing.”
- “Nothing you do can make you unworthy of love.”
For yourself:
- Place a hand on your chest and whisper:
“My words can wound, but they can also repair. I choose repair.”
Over time, this re-teaches both your child and your nervous system: words are not only weapons — they are bridges.
🧘 IFS reflection: Softening the critic
Find a quiet space. Close your eyes. Notice the last time you spoke sharply.
- Imagine the part of you that shouted or mocked.
- How old is this part? A teen? A child? A young adult under pressure?
- Ask it: What do you fear will happen if I don’t shout?
- Thank it: You protected me when no one else did. You helped me survive.
- Reassure it: I can protect us now without hurting others. You can rest.
The more compassion you extend inward, the softer your outer words will become.
📚 Practical micro-steps for daily life
- Pause Script: Write on a sticky note: “Lower voice. Speak truth without shame.” Place it by your child’s door or on the fridge.
- One repair a day: Even if you didn’t “mess up,” say one healing phrase daily: “You are not too much. I love hearing you.”
- Name your critic: Give your inner critic a name or image. This helps you recognize when it’s speaking, not your Self.
- Daily affirmation: Whisper before sleep: “I choose gentleness tomorrow.”
🫶 You are the repair
You are not doomed to echo the voices that hurt you.
Every time you notice, soften, repair — you are reshaping the story.
Your child does not need perfection.
They need to see that love can speak firmly without shaming, that anger can soften into repair, and that words can build as much as they break.
Every pause, every gentle boundary, every whispered I’m sorry is a seed of trust.
📥 Your Free Gentle Parenting Guide
✅ Scripts to shift from shaming to firm kindness
✅ Repair phrases for daily conflicts
✅ Journal prompts to meet your inner critic
✅ A bedtime “Safe Words” ritual
✅ Practical affirmations to keep visible at home
Print it, tape it inside a cupboard, or share it with a partner. Let it hold your hand when the old scripts rise.
Next: Breaking the Cycle of Sexual Abuse in Parenting
When bodily boundaries were violated, safety and trust fracture. In Part 3, we’ll explore:
- How fear and shame around bodies echo in parenting
- Why silence and overcontrol both pass on the wound
- Gentle ways to build safety, autonomy, and open dialogue
👉 Read Part 3: Breaking the Cycle of Sexual Abuse in Parenting
📚 References
Walker, P. (2013). Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving
Schwartz, R. (2021). No Bad Parts
van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score
Maté, G. (2003). When the Body Says No
Teicher, M. H., Samson, J. A., Polcari, A., & McGreenery, C. E. (2006). Sticks, stones, and hurtful words: Relative effects of various forms of childhood maltreatment. American Journal of Psychiatry, 163(6), 993–1000.
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