When a Child Speaks: Listening to the Unspoken Wounds

By Maria Sarina, Social Psychologist and Counsellor

In my years of professional practice, I have sat across from many parents and children navigating the complex aftermath of separation. But recently, in a deeply personal moment with my own son, I was reminded just how crucial — and healing — honest conversations can be.

One evening, I asked my son whether I had done anything following the separation from his father that had hurt or caused him pain. He paused, then replied, "Yes, you did — but it wasn't your fault." That simple, powerful statement opened a door to something much deeper.

As we spoke further, he revealed that every time I went out and left him with his father, it was the single worst experience for him. He described feeling physically sick the entire time. He felt mistreated, ganged up on, lied about, and worst of all — he was denied the ability to contact me. He would ask to call me, and his father would always say no.

The psychology of a child's distress

From a psychological perspective, this scenario paints a disturbing picture. The signs of emotional distress were evident: somatic symptoms (feeling sick), fear, powerlessness, and isolation. Children express emotional suffering through their bodies and behaviour, and when those expressions are silenced or ignored, the effects can be long-lasting.

My son was not blaming me. He was expressing pain. His words — "It wasn't your fault" — showed a capacity to distinguish between intent and impact, something many adults struggle with. But the impact was real. It meant he felt abandoned, not by my choice, but by circumstance. And perhaps more crucially, he felt trapped with someone who did not allow him the comfort or connection of his primary attachment figure.

What this tells us about the other parent

What do these revelations say about his father? While it is not my role to diagnose, the behavioural patterns are clear. Denying a child access to a parent when they are distressed is a form of emotional control. It may stem from insecurity, a need for dominance, or a lack of empathy. Whatever the root, the outcome is the same: a child left to suffer in silence.

The fragility of emotional safety

In our profession, we often talk about the importance of emotional safety. This experience reminded me just how fragile that safety can be in high-conflict parenting situations. My son's body remembered what his voice could not yet express. And once he found the words, my role was to listen — not to defend, justify, or explain away, but simply to acknowledge.

Healing began in that moment, not because I had all the answers, but because I created the space for him to speak his truth. These are the conversations we need to have more openly — not just in counselling rooms, but around kitchen tables, in community forums, and in public discourse.

A message to parents

To any parent reading this: if your child ever tells you something hard about their experience with the other parent — or even with you — believe them. Honour the courage it takes to speak. And remember, healing doesn't come from perfect parenting; it comes from being willing to listen, acknowledge, and grow together.

This conversation with my son changed both of us. It reminded me that while we cannot rewrite the past, we can reshape the future — one brave, truthful conversation at a time.

Go gently, Maria.