“I constantly feel invalidated by others”—A trauma survivor’s guide to relationships.
Many people with trauma wonder why even kind, well-meaning members of their community say things that feel invalidating. From “You’ll feel differently when you get to my age” to “Well, I’m sure your parents love you” to “It’s in the past now,” trauma survivors frequently encounter comments that seem to downplay their experiences.
Sometimes advice is given before others truly understand the complexity of the situation. Sometimes it comes in the form of surface-level coping skills (“Have you tried yoga?”) or theological reframing that shifts responsibility (“You should trust more in the Lord”). Many exasperated survivors have thrown up their hands wondering how the world around them so casually offers simple-sounding answers to complex problems.
Dysfunction vs. Trauma
A colleague once shared that there's a difference between dysfunction and trauma. He used “dysfunction” to describe the common painful experiences most people encounter—no less valid, but more familiar. These might include the expected loss of a loved one, divorce, health issues, or job stress.
Trauma, on the other hand, includes less common and more shocking events: a loved one’s suicide, divorce due to domestic violence, chronic illness with severe pain, or a workplace shooting. With complex trauma, things get even harder to define. When trauma begins in childhood, it impacts a brain still developing its ability to regulate itself. Complex trauma often isn’t a single event, but a series of events—or even a constant state of threat (such as having a harmful or emotionally unavailable caregiver).
The majority of people are familiar with dysfunction and often speak from that lens. Some can grasp trauma. Fewer still understand the nuances of complex trauma. That’s why many people will offer solutions that work for dysfunction—even when you’re trying to talk about trauma.
This dynamic creates a kind of language barrier: you are seeking relief from trauma, but they respond as if you’re describing dysfunction. It may even seem to them like you’re saying your pain is “more important” or “more intense” than theirs, which can lead to a breakdown in communication.
While there’s no useful way to compare pain across dysfunction, trauma, and complex trauma (and such comparisons are harmful to everyone), the type of pain experienced is different—not necessarily “worse,” but more unconventional. What helps with dysfunction often does not help with trauma or complex trauma. Well-meaning advice from loved ones may be helpful to some, but deeply invalidating to others.
Denial vs. Ignorance
Keeping the trauma/dysfunction distinction in mind can help you recognize that others might actually be trying to help—just not in the way you need. This brings us to another important distinction: ignorance vs. denial.
When someone gives advice based on dysfunction, it can feel deeply invalidating—especially if you were raised by people who dismissed or intentionally hurt you. But many of these individuals (though unfortunately not all) are not denying your pain. They’re simply ignorant of the complexity of your situation.
The bad news: ignorance doesn’t always translate into useful support.
The good news: you're probably not dealing with someone who wishes you harm. They may genuinely be trying to love you in the best way they know—based on what worked for them.
The Subjective Self
Having a subjective self means being able to trust your own experience. Survivors of abuse, especially in childhood, are often treated as objects—dismissed, disbelieved, or manipulated. This teaches them to doubt their own thoughts, emotions, and instincts.
A child raised in such conditions may only feel secure when their experiences are validated by others. As a result, other people’s opinions become their truth. This is dangerous. It gives enormous power to those around them and strips away internal resilience. Without a strong subjective self, one invalidating comment can shake their entire sense of self.
To survive, many trauma survivors resort to people-pleasing, self-sacrifice, or excessive self-criticism. Others carry deep resentment, using passive-aggressiveness or emotional withdrawal to shield themselves.
While openness is valuable, some truths about your worth and your experience should never be up for debate. Building a subjective self takes time and safe relationships. Without it, invalidating remarks can continue to rule your emotional world.
The Double Bind of Emotional Expression
People can’t validate what they can’t see. If they don’t see the depth of your pain, they won’t know the depth of your pain.
To “fit in” socially, many survivors feel they must hide their distress—just as they did in unsafe households. But opening up emotionally can risk rejection or misunderstanding, especially if your subjective self is fragile.
It’s true: most people aren’t trained to support someone in emotional pain. But if you never let them see any part of your struggle, they’ll never get the chance to try. And some of them—perhaps more than you expect—may rise to the occasion.
People Don’t Know What [Insert Diagnosis] Is
Despite growing mental health awareness, many diagnoses—especially those involving dissociation or complex trauma—remain poorly understood. Explaining them takes energy, and not everyone is ready to listen or learn.
When confronted with unfamiliar information, people often respond by trying to relate—even when the comparison isn’t accurate. This is usually an attempt to normalize your experience or show acceptance. While it might feel invalidating, it’s often just another case of ignorance—not denial.
What Can I Do About It?
If you often find conversations about your mental health invalidating, here are some tools to try:
1. Use the Breadcrumb Method
Choose carefully who gets access to sensitive parts of your story. Not everyone is emotionally safe or ready to understand. Offer small “breadcrumbs” about your experience—small, low-risk disclosures. If the response is supportive, you can share more over time.
Instead of launching into an abuse narrative, you might start with:
“I’m really tired today.”
If someone responds with kindness or thoughtfulness, that’s a green flag. If they’re dismissive, it may not be the right person or the right time.
Also remember: not all parts of you may be ready to share. If you're working with dissociative parts or ego states, get internal permission first. Forcing disclosure can lead to backlash, shame, or relationship anxiety.
2. Pick Your Battles
Not every invalidating moment needs a correction. If the person is busy, not very close to you, or emotionally unequipped, it’s okay to exit the conversation and take care of yourself. Self-soothe, check in with your parts, vent to a friend, or gently remind yourself what’s true.
3. Educate—If It’s Worth It
If the person is sincere, curious, and present, you might choose to share more. This could be a chance to increase understanding and build connection.
4. Use ‘I Feel’ Statements
When the person is close to you and the relationship matters, you can address the moment with honesty and care.
Example:
“I felt frustrated when you said I ‘just need to practice gratefulness’ because I thought you were minimizing how hard depression is. Was that what you meant to do?”
This approach gives them the benefit of the doubt while also being vulnerable. People often respond in kind to the tone they’re met with. If they don’t, you can always revisit the conversation later—or set boundaries accordingly.
Final Thoughts
There’s growing advocacy and education around trauma and dissociation. Still, there’s an ongoing tension between two truths:
“You can’t expect the whole world to operate around your needs.”
“You can’t heal yourself by yourself.”
Both are valid.
We need education to continue. And we also need to be practical: not everyone will understand. Some won’t care. Others are too preoccupied with their own pain.
Protecting yourself isn’t saying, “I’m responsible for how people treat me.” It’s saying, “Until I have a sturdier sense of self, I’m allowed to choose who gets access to me.”
The mission, in my view, is this:
Chase the ideal, but live grounded in your reality.
Not everyone will meet you with attunement—but some will.
And those people can help you reclaim your voice and rebuild your trust in humanity.
