My best childhood memory- and what it says about my family

In today's post I want to share with you one of my strongest childhood memories and explore how it connects to my family dynamics, especially growing up in a difficult environment.

As many of you know, I’m a psychotherapist and a relationship coach, and my experience with family has been far from easy. I’ve often spoken about the challenges I’ve faced, including dealing with narcissistic behaviors and emotional neglect. But today, I want to dive into one of my most positive memories from childhood, and what it means to me now, looking back as an adult.

A Fleeting Moment That Left a Lasting Impression

Growing up, many of my memories are cloudy or even painful. As someone who experienced childhood trauma, it’s common to have a fuzzy recollection of certain events, especially those that were emotionally charged. Most of my memories tend to revolve around feelings of sadness, fear, or frustration—emotions that felt “normal” at the time, but now I recognize as signs of an unhealthy environment.

However, there’s one memory from my childhood that stands out clearly and brightly in my mind. I was just a young child, on a family visit to my grandparents' house. I remember being on a walk with my grandmother and a lady I didn't know—someone who I now think may have been a family friend, but I don’t recall her name or face.

My memory of noticing a wildflower has stuck with me for 40 years.

As we walked along, I noticed a small wildflower by the side of the path. I excitedly pointed it out to my grandmother, saying, “Grandma, look! There’s a little flower!” I’m sure my grandmother gave her usual kind response, probably something like, “Oh, that’s nice, dear.” But it was what happened next that stayed with me all these years.

The friend of my grandmother, without missing a beat, turned to her and said, “Oh, Chess, she’s a very observant child, isn’t she?”

That simple, offhand comment has stuck with me forever. Even now, I can feel my heart swell with warmth just thinking about it. It was the first time I remember being acknowledged for something positive, something good about me. I had seen the flower, pointed it out, and received a compliment for being observant. It was a small moment, but it made me feel seen, valued, and appreciated. I had done something right, and for once, it wasn’t about being “bad” or “difficult.”

The Significance of Being Seen

That moment, while small, was incredibly impactful for me. For years, I didn’t realize how deeply it had affected me, but looking back now, I can see it as a symbol of something I desperately needed—positive reinforcement, encouragement, and love. I had been craving that all along, and this brief interaction gave me a sense of warmth and validation that was rare in my home environment.

Now, when I reflect on my family and the narrative they created about me, it brings new clarity. I’ve been told countless times by my family that I’m emotionally disconnected, that I don’t understand or care about things the way I should. They’ve implied that I’m flawed or stunted emotionally, that I’m somehow incapable of understanding or having healthy relationships. But this memory tells me something entirely different.

It reminds me that I was, in fact, capable of receiving love and care. I was hungry for kindness, wanting to be noticed for the good things about me, not just the bad. I wasn’t some emotionally deficient child as they often tried to make me believe. I was simply a child in need of love and acknowledgment—something that was often missing in my family’s emotional climate.

The Gray Area of Memory

As I’ve mentioned before, my memories of childhood are often clouded in a sort of gray, murky space. I think this is a common experience for people who grow up in emotionally unsupportive or even toxic environments. But what stands out to me about this memory is that it wasn’t full of grand gestures or expressions of love. There were no hugs, no “good job!” affirmations, no signs of deep affection. But that small comment, made in passing, made me feel so good. It showed me how desperately I had been craving positive attention—something that my family failed to provide.

What this memory also tells me is that, within all the grayness of my childhood, there weren’t many positive memories. Instead, the emotionally charged ones—whether positive or negative—are what stuck with me. And unfortunately, most of those were negative.

Coming to Terms with a Difficult Childhood

Ultimately, this memory sheds light on the emotional void I experienced growing up. It wasn’t just about not receiving love—it was about the absence of any support that could have helped me grow into a more emotionally stable person. The environment I grew up in was hard, often painful, and emotionally draining. But this one memory serves as a reminder that even in difficult times, there were moments of brightness—however small they were.

It also reminds me that I wasn’t the problem. I wasn’t emotionally wrong or incapable of having healthy relationships, as I was often led to believe. No, I was simply a child trying to make sense of the world around me and seeking out the love and care that everyone deserves.

As always, much love

Chess xxx