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  • Writer: Rowena Poole | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
    Rowena Poole | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
  • May 4
Rebuilt by Kindness: Finding Hope in the Most Unexpected Places

At just sixteen years old, I needed help. I don’t remember much about the preceding days. It crept up on me. I was a frog in boiling water, unaware of the decline in my mental health. When I was finally forced to pay attention, I had hope that my parents could help me. Maybe they did try at first to no avail, but I was sent away. I was too caught up in my own drowning, that I didn’t look to see what they were doing. It still feels like they gave up on me too quickly.


The Breaking Point: When the World Feels Too Heavy


I found myself in a strange place, surrounded by other young adults like me. There were art supplies, puzzles, and games. But we were all treated like inmates.


I tried to heal there. I kept my head down, put in the effort, but nobody acknowledged it. I was never sent home. Was I seen as being manipulative? Only saying what the professionals wanted to hear? Days turned into months, and eventually all I could do was sit on my bed and cry. I was alone and powerless. I had no legal say in the matter, the matter that centered around me. My parents had given up and abandoned me. They would not take me home. I was stuck.


The People You Least Expect


First, it was just me. But then there was a nice girl or two whom I could talk to. It was not a cure, but it did make the situation feel slightly less intimidating. There were some staff members who were extra kind. They would tell me what was happening behind closed doors. It gave me a slight twinge of hope that things could be okay.


Finally, finally, after seven months, I was free. It has been seven years since then, and I continue to find new people who fix something they did not break. In the beginning, there were classmates who were surprisingly understanding. New friends in my later teen years who never judged. Old friends who have seen every side of me and never abandoned me. People come and go. A lot of the people who helped put me back together, even if they had no idea they were doing it, are no longer active in my life. But I never forgot who they once were to me.



I currently have a nice group of friends, whom I grew close to during my senior year of college. Some of them know more details than others, but they are all part of my support system, all the same. Some people are good to talk to, and some people are good to escape from the world for a little while with. People build each other up in many different ways.


Trust Reimagined: Learning to Believe Again


I realized that I can be open and honest with certain people. While I still avoid telling my parents anything, I currently have a nice handful of people I know I can trust. It was not easy to get here. In the past seven years, several people have left my life of their own volition. Several people have still broken me. Learning to trust anyone in life is a trial-and-error sport. I have learned that the best approach is to go slowly. Find people you enjoy spending time with. Try to open up a crack of something personal. If the action is reciprocated, then it might be safe to dive deeper. The ironic part for me, was that the deeper I dove in, the less I felt like I was drowning.


I could breathe.


I have people I can go to on a regular basis with any sort of problem, and I know they will be there to help. The scariest part is over. The trust is there. It started small, but I worked hard at growing it.


Moments That Mattered: Tiny Acts, Big Healing


The small act of staying judgment-free talks millions. There have been times when I would need a friend to help get me through a situation. Sometimes I would not want to talk about it, and letting it rest really helped me process. Other times, I would engage in deep conversation with those who are a little closer to me. There have been times I had a conversation with a close friend, and there have been times when I’ll just watch a movie with someone and bury the hard times in a big bowl of ice cream. Sometimes it’s simply the presence of someone you love and care about that’s enough for you. They never judge. They never pry. They are there for you when you need them, ready with a hug and an ear.


What I Would Tell Someone Who Is Losing Faith


I know what it’s like. I lived through it myself. Your anger and your pain are justified. When the world seems too dark, remember that I am living proof that it does get better. There are people who are here for you. You may not know them yet, and they may not be who you expect. It does get better. I know you’re tired of hearing that. But you do not need to go through this alone. Keep fighting, and you will find the people who will help build you back up. You might be surprised how many good people there still are in the world. You might surprise yourself with how strong and brave you can be. The bravest thing you can do right now is continue forward. I believe in you. Please believe in yourself.



Still Healing, Still Human


I continue on my journey after seven years, and for all the years that lie ahead. It was not a one-and-done situation. Some of my relationships and trust have been permanently damaged. I go forth with an understanding that it is inevitable I will be hurt again. That being said, I also know that there will be new people and new relationships to nurture. All I can do is hope that I can work hard enough to make the best ones last.


Since getting through the darkest of times at sixteen, I have graduated from both high school and college. I work hard at earning things I want. I share my stories. I made some excellent friends. I have also lost friends, been heartbroken, been devastated, and had to make really tough decisions. But I learned that life has its ups and downs. Making a really hard choice can ultimately be better for your mental health. I speak with a therapist twice a month to stay as on track as possible. I picked up a plethora of coping skills throughout the years, and I continue to use the ones that work. I need to work through my trauma responses and the lasting effects.


Scars can heal. The ones that didn’t got covered up by a beautiful tattoo that I am proud to show off. The best thing we can do is continue to learn, to grow, to speak, and to help.


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



Carlie Malott

Rowena Poole

Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer of Moody Melon Magazine

I am a multimedia storyteller with a passion for supporting mental well-being. With a background in animation and creative writing, I use my skills to share meaningful messages that promote understanding and positive change.

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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 29

Childhood abuse shapes adult relationships in subtle yet powerful ways, influencing how we trust, communicate, and handle emotional intimacy. If you've ever wondered why love feels difficult or why conflict feels threatening, it may be because childhood abuse shaped your adult relationships more than you realized.

Breaking the Cycle: How Childhood Abuse Shapes Adult Relationships—and How You Can Heal

Some of the deepest scars we carry into adulthood are the ones no one else can see. They come from the words never said, the hugs never given, the love never consistently shown. If you grew up in a home marked by emotional abuse, neglect, or manipulation, it’s likely those early wounds are still echoing through your adult life—especially in your closest relationships.


Childhood abuse doesn’t just stay in the past. It shapes how we trust, how we express love, how we argue, and how we handle fear. And if it’s left unhealed, it can silently thread itself through your marriage and your parenting, passing its pain from one generation to the next.

But here’s the good news: you are not doomed to repeat what you lived through. You can break the cycle.


The Marriage Mirror


In adult relationships, especially marriage, unresolved childhood trauma often resurfaces. You may find yourself withdrawing when things get too emotional or lashing out when you feel unseen. Your partner may become a symbol—consciously or not—of your parents: the ones who ignored, invalidated, or hurt you. This projection can make it hard to distinguish your current reality from your painful past.



Small arguments feel threatening. Affection may feel foreign. You may crave closeness and fear it at the same time. All of this is normal for someone who never had safe emotional modeling growing up—but it doesn't have to be permanent.


These reactions often stem from deep-seated beliefs formed in childhood, shaped by the emotional tone of our earliest relationships:


  • “I'm unlovable” — If your parents withheld affection, criticized you constantly, or made love feel conditional, you may carry this belief like a shadow. It manifests as self-sabotage in relationships: pulling away before someone can “see the real you,” or staying in toxic dynamics because you believe that’s the best you can get. Love may feel foreign—or even unsafe—because your blueprint for it was damaged from the start.


  • “Conflict is dangerous” — If yelling, violence, or emotional explosions were part of your home growing up, any kind of disagreement now may send your nervous system into overdrive. Even healthy conflict can trigger fear, shutdown, or panic. As a result, you might avoid difficult conversations altogether, suppress your needs, or shut your partner out—all in an attempt to keep the peace, even at your own emotional expense.


  • “I need to be perfect to stay safe” — When love was tied to performance—when you were only praised for good grades, quietness, or obedience—perfectionism becomes a survival strategy. You may now place impossible expectations on yourself (or your partner), equating mistakes with rejection. This belief can lead to burnout, resentment, and a sense of never being “enough” no matter how much you give.


These beliefs aren’t character flaws—they’re coping mechanisms. Your mind built them to protect you when you were too young to protect yourself. But now, they can keep you from the very connection you long for.


Parenting With Wounded Hands


When we become parents, many of us vow to do better than what we experienced. But breaking generational patterns takes more than just good intentions. It takes self-awareness, support, and deep inner healing.


If your childhood was full of criticism, you might become overly permissive as a parent, fearing you’ll become “too harsh.” Or, you might overcorrect in the other direction, becoming controlling or anxious about getting everything “right.” You may struggle with emotional regulation, modeling instability without meaning to.


Children don’t need perfect parents. They need present, emotionally attuned parents—ones who are willing to say “I’m sorry,” to model growth, and to break the silence that shaped their own upbringing.


The healing begins with you. The curse ends with you.


Rewriting Your Story


Healing from childhood abuse is not easy, but it is possible. You can:


  • Seek therapy to understand and reprocess your trauma.

  • Set boundaries with harmful or triggering family members.

  • Develop self-compassion by learning to talk to yourself with kindness.

  • Communicate vulnerably with your partner about your needs and triggers.

  • Learn emotional regulation so your reactions align with the present, not the past.


This is not just about healing for your own sake—it’s about creating a legacy of safety, trust, and unconditional love for those around you.



Final Thought


You may not have chosen what happened to you in childhood. But you can choose how your story continues.


Are you ready to stop surviving your past and start building a future rooted in connection and healing?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 28

Being the family scapegoat often means carrying the emotional weight of an entire household's dysfunction—silently, unfairly, and for years. But recognizing the role and reclaiming your worth is the first courageous step toward healing.

The Family Scapegoat: What If the Problem Was Never You?

You were always “too sensitive,” “too dramatic,” or “the problem child.” Sound familiar? In many families, there’s an unspoken rule: one person bears the blame when things go wrong. That person is the scapegoat—the emotional dumping ground, often assigned this role since childhood. While it’s rarely discussed openly, scapegoating is more common than most people realize, and its psychological impact can last a lifetime.


Scapegoating is a form of emotional abuse that typically reflects a dysfunctional family system. Instead of addressing their own issues, some families project shame, guilt, or anger onto one person, usually the most emotionally attuned or different child. The scapegoat becomes the “identified problem,” even when their reactions are normal responses to abnormal situations.


What Scapegoating Looks Like


Scapegoating doesn’t always look like yelling or overt cruelty. Sometimes, it’s subtle—and shockingly normalized.


Here are some real-life situations that may sound all too familiar:


  • Your sibling breaks something, but you’re the one who gets blamed because you're “always causing problems.”


  • You speak up about how a family member hurt you, and you're told you’re too dramatic or “just trying to start trouble.”


  • A parent vents their frustrations about work or their marriage by yelling at you for forgetting to take out the trash.


  • At family gatherings, you're constantly the butt of the joke—“It’s just teasing,” they say, while you feel smaller each time.


  • You succeed in school or work, but it's ignored or undermined, while your sibling’s minor achievements are celebrated.


  • You're expected to be the mediator during arguments, even though you're the one who was hurt.


  • When you try to set a boundary, you're called selfish, ungrateful, or accused of turning your back on the family.


  • You were labeled “difficult” as a child simply for having emotions or asking questions no one wanted to answer.


Over time, this emotional invalidation chips away at your self-esteem and conditions you to suppress your truth to avoid further conflict.


The Hidden Damage


Children who grow up as the family scapegoat often carry chronic anxiety, perfectionism, people-pleasing behaviors, or deep-rooted shame into adulthood. They may feel isolated, emotionally reactive, or confused about why relationships are so draining.



The Trauma a Scapegoat Carries:


  • Complex PTSD from years of emotional neglect, rejection, or gaslighting.


  • Hypervigilance, always anticipating blame or criticism even in safe environments.


  • Emotional dysregulation, especially when trying to express needs or establish boundaries.


  • Fear of vulnerability, as speaking up often led to ridicule, rejection, or punishment.


  • A distorted self-image, shaped by internalized beliefs like “I’m hard to love” or “I ruin everything.”


  • Attachment wounds, making intimacy feel unsafe or unpredictable in adult relationships.


These aren't just emotional bruises—they are psychological injuries that impact how scapegoated individuals see themselves and engage with the world.


Reclaiming Your Power: Setting Boundaries to Protect Your Mental Health


The first step in healing from scapegoating is recognition. You’re not imagining things. If your gut tells you something has always felt off, trust that. The second step is boundaries.

Here are powerful boundary-setting tools:


  • Limit contact or create emotional distance from toxic family dynamics.


  • Practice emotional detachment—you can care about your family without carrying their pain.


  • Say no without guilt. You’re allowed to decline conversations or roles that are harmful.


  • Choose your truth. Write down what actually happened to you. Naming the reality is the beginning of breaking the cycle.


Healing also involves connecting with others who validate your experience. Therapy, trauma-informed support groups, or even safe online communities can help you feel seen and understood.



You Are Not the Problem—You Were the Mirror


Often, scapegoats are the most emotionally intelligent or compassionate members of the family. That makes them threatening in systems where dysfunction is denied. Your sensitivity is not a flaw—it’s a strength that was never nurtured.


So here’s the question: If the role of scapegoat was assigned to you, not earned… isn’t it time to stop carrying what was never yours to begin with?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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