Understanding the Weight of Past Hurt

The past has a way of tagging us, often when we least expect us. Moments of pain, whether they were fleeting or prolonged, can leave behind an emotional residue that clings to us, shaping how we see the world, others, and ourselves. These wounds, though invisible, often surface in unexpected ways - an overreaction to a small conflict, an avoidance of closeness, or even a nagging inner voice questioning our worth.

When I sit with clients navigating past hurt, the heaviness becomes quickly apparent. It’s as if they’ve been walking up a slope with a heavy backpack, not realizing the full weight until they have the moment of pause in the session. One client came to me after years of feeling emotionally guarded in relationships. “I don’t know why I can’t let people in,” she confessed. As we explored her story, it became clear that unacknowledged hurt from late adolescence had shaped her need to self-protect. A father who was emotionally distant left her believing that closeness was unsafe, and those beliefs quietly played out in most relationships since.

Recognizing the impact of past emotional hurt can be difficult because it asks us to sit with discomfort and face emotions we’ve long ignored. This uncomfortable recognition is where healing begins. As Carl Jung observed, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate.” To heal, we must first recognize the patterns and wounds that quietly guide us. Then, we can begin to loosen their grip.

The Power of Acknowledgment

Naming and acknowledging pain is not about reliving it but about allowing it to surface, to be seen and understood. Avoiding or suppressing it may seem like self-protection, but in reality, it often keeps the wound fresh, buried just beneath the surface where it festers. Acknowledgment, on the other hand, is like gently pulling back a curtain, letting light into the places we’ve hidden away.

A friend of mine once described his struggle with unresolved grief after the loss of a close friend. For years, he told himself he had “moved on,” but small triggers - seeing someone who resembled his friend, or hearing their favorite song - would flood him with anger and sadness. “Why is this still happening?” he asked in frustration. Over coffee, I encouraged him to simply acknowledge any pain he had dismissed. He realized he’d been carrying guilt for not being able to say goodbye, guilt he’d never allowed himself to feel fully. He decided seeing a therapist would be a good idea, and unpacked his guilt in the following months. 

Acknowledgment is not weakness; it’s the beginning of strength. As we name what hurts, we claim a sort of power over it. The weight of the backpack lightens as we identify each buried emotion and decide how to carry it - or whether it needs to be carried at all. Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us, “When we are willing to touch our suffering with curiosity, we allow it to transform us.”

Releasing and Reframing

Releasing past hurt is often misunderstood as a simple act of “letting go.” In truth, it’s a layered process - gradual, uneven, and deeply personal. Sometimes, release comes not from forgetting but from reframing: seeing the experience in a new light, finding meaning, or rewriting the narrative it left behind.

Forgiveness often plays a role here, though not always in the way we think. Forgiveness doesn’t have to mean excusing harmful actions or reconciling with those who hurt us. Instead, it can be an act of self-liberation - a way of refusing to let the pain define our present. I’ve worked with many clients for whom forgiving others felt impossible, yet forgiving themselves opened a door to healing.

The previous client I mentioned who struggle who struggled with emotional barriers, found this to be true. Her reframing came when she realized her father’s distance wasn’t about her lack of worth but his inability to show love in the way she needed. This shift didn’t erase her hurt, but it softened its edges, allowing her to approach relationships with a new openness.

Reframing also means challenging the limiting beliefs born from pain. These beliefs—“I’m not lovable,” “I’ll always be betrayed,” “I can’t trust anyone” - may have protected us once, but they often outlive their purpose. By questioning their truth, we begin to release their hold. Viktor Frankl, who endured unimaginable suffering, once said, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” Reframing is that change - a reclaiming of our story.

Growing from Pain

Healing isn’t about erasing the past but weaving it into the fabric of who we are, creating something stronger and more resilient. Growth is not the absence of pain but the result of learning to carry it differently, allowing it to teach us without consuming us.

Another client of mine shared a story of how years of betrayal in friendships left her hesitant to trust anyone new. Over time, she began to see those experiences as lessons, not in closing herself off, but in setting boundaries and seeking relationships rooted in mutual respect. “I’m not the same person I was back then,” she said, “and I think that’s a good thing.” Her pain didn’t disappear, but it became part of a larger narrative about her strength and self-worth.

This kind of growth doesn’t happen passively—it requires intentionality. Healing asks us to create space for reflection, to surround ourselves with supportive relationships, and to practice habits that nurture our well-being. Resilience grows through these small, deliberate choices.

In this process, we also discover that healing is never linear. There will be moments when old wounds resurface, moments when it feels as though progress has stalled. But each time we choose to meet these moments with kindness and patience, we affirm our capacity to move forward. As Maya Angelou so beautifully put it, “I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.”

Journal Exercise: Moving Through and Forward

Reflect on a past hurt that continues to affect your life. What are the emotions tied to this experience, and how do they show up in your daily life? Take a moment to acknowledge this pain without judgment—how has it shaped you, both positively and negatively?

Now, consider what it might look like to release or reframe this hurt. Are there beliefs about yourself or others that need to be questioned? What lessons have you learned from this experience, and how can those lessons guide you as you move forward?

Finally, write down one small, intentional step you can take to heal—whether it’s practicing self-compassion, setting a boundary, or simply allowing yourself to feel. Let this be the beginning of your journey toward integrating the past into a life of growth and strength.

Citations

• Jung, C. G. (1953). Psychological Aspects of the Personality.
• Hanh, T. N. (1999). The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching.
• Frankl, V. E. (1984). Man's Search for Meaning.
• Angelou, M. (1993). Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now.

Suggested Reading

• Neff, K. (2011). Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself.
• Brown, B. (2012). Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.
• van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.