The Missed Embrace

I’ve been reflecting on a memory from my childhood, one that feels like it’s quietly shaped so much of who I’ve become and how I’ve experienced my emotions. I was about six years old when we moved to Guadalajara. I remember it clearly because it was just after I’d finished first grade in Mexico City. One day, something unusual happened at home. For reasons I still don’t fully understand, my mother tried to give me a hug. It completely caught me off guard. In that moment, my body reacted instantly; I tensed up, and all these overwhelming emotions came rushing to the surface. I couldn’t hold it in, so I just burst into tears.

The feelings were so intense, and they came from somewhere deep inside that I didn’t fully understand at the time. My mother let go almost immediately, and in a half-joking, half-defensive way, she said, “You are so annoyingly sensitive.” That moment, so small on the surface, left such a deep mark on me. I remember feeling like I had done something wrong, like somehow my emotions, those feelings that came so naturally, were too much, or that I was too much.

Looking back on it now, with the perspective and understanding I have as an adult, I can see what was really happening. My mother, in her own way, was trying to connect, but her response to my reaction came from her own place of wounding. She has always struggled to admit when she’s wrong or when she’s hurt someone, and I’ve come to understand that this has a lot to do with her own unhealed pain. But as a child, I couldn’t see that. All I knew was that I felt rejected for expressing my emotions. I interpreted it as a sign that I wasn’t worthy of love, or that my feelings were burdensome.

This wasn’t the first time I’d felt that way, but this memory stands out because it was one of the moments when I really internalized the belief that my sensitivity was something to be ashamed of.

I learned that being vulnerable wasn’t safe, and that the best way to avoid rejection or criticism was to hide how I felt. And for years, that’s exactly what I did.

But what I realize now is that this pattern, the one where I learned to suppress my emotions, didn’t start with me. It’s part of a much larger story, one that was passed down from my mother, and likely from her mother before her. This is the essence of what’s called the “mother wound,” that emotional inheritance of unresolved pain, unmet needs, and ways of coping that don’t serve us. My mother, in her own way, was simply repeating the patterns she had learned, just as I did.

What’s helped me in recent years is recognizing that my sensitivity, my emotions, are not something to be ashamed of. They are a part of who I am, and they are valid. That moment when I burst into tears as a child wasn’t about me being “too sensitive.” It was about me being overwhelmed by feelings I didn’t know how to process because I hadn’t been shown how. I see now that my sensitivity is a gift; it’s what allows me to connect deeply with others, to feel empathy, to love wholeheartedly. It’s a strength, not a weakness.

Healing from this wound isn’t about blaming my mother, or anyone else for that matter. It’s about understanding where these patterns come from and choosing, every day, to break them. It’s about giving myself permission to feel, to express, to be vulnerable without fear of rejection. And in doing so, I’m rewriting the narrative not just for myself, but for those who come after me.

The truth is, we are all worthy of love, even when our emotions feel messy, even when we’re overwhelmed. That little girl who tensed up at the thought of a hug was just trying to protect herself from a world she didn’t fully understand yet. She didn’t need to hide her feelings, but she didn’t know that then. Now I do, and with that knowledge comes the power to heal, to embrace the parts of myself that I once thought were “too much,” and to live with the understanding that vulnerability is a beautiful, courageous act.

If you’ve ever felt like your emotions were too big, too messy, or too complicated, I want you to know you are not alone. We’re all on this journey of unlearning, healing, and becoming more fully ourselves. And the more we give ourselves permission to feel, to express, and to be seen, the more we can truly transform.