The Child Who Grew Up Trying Not to Need Anything

by Rebecca Bloom

There is a version of me that learned early that needing less meant hurting less. She learned that needs were inconvenient. That expressing them led to disappointment or silence or anger. So she found ways to make herself smaller. Quieter. Easier. She learned to disappear while still being present.

I see her in myself even now. In the way I say I am fine before I check how I actually feel. In the way I apologise for things that are not my fault. In the way I accept discomfort rather than risk making someone else uncomfortable. She lives in the part of me that still believes being low maintenance makes me safer.

Growing up without having your needs met teaches you strange things. It teaches you that wanting connection is dangerous. It teaches you that asking for help is shameful. It teaches you to be grateful for crumbs because crumbs were often all there was.

But adulthood has a way of showing you the truth. Especially when illness slows your life to a halt. Especially when your body demands care. Especially when coping stops working.

I am learning now that the child who tried not to need anything was not strong. She was scared. She was lonely. She was trying to avoid the hurt she knew too well. And I understand why she did what she did.

But I also know this. I am allowed to need things now. I am allowed to rest. I am allowed to be comforted. I am allowed to speak honestly. I am allowed to take up space without proving anything.

Learning to need again is slow. Sometimes painful. Sometimes confusing. But every time I acknowledge a need instead of hiding it, I honour the part of me that never had her needs met. I give her what she once lived without.

She is no longer alone in carrying everything. I am here now. And we are learning together that needing is not weakness. It is human.

Rebecca Bloom