Category Archives: behaviour

When Love Becomes Conditional

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How Conditions of Worth Shape the Self

Many people come into therapy believing that they have a problem with confidence or self-esteem. They may describe themselves as people-pleasers, perfectionists or chronic overthinkers. They may struggle to make decisions without reassurance, feel deeply affected by criticism or become anxious at the thought of disappointing someone. Often, they are highly capable people. They may be successful, responsible and caring. Yet beneath these qualities can lie a fragile and persistent question: Am I still good enough?

For some people, self-worth does not feel like something they naturally possess. It feels like something that must continually be earned. This experience can be understood through the work of the humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers and his concept of Conditions of Worth. These are the often-unconscious beliefs we develop about what we need to be, do or feel in order to be accepted, loved or valued. Over time, they can become so deeply embedded within us that we no longer recognise them as beliefs. They simply become part of who we think we are.

The Seeds of Conditional Worth

We are not born questioning whether our feelings are acceptable. A young child experiences the world directly. They feel anger, sadness, excitement, fear and joy. They have needs, preferences and impulses. Their experience simply arises. But as children grow, they begin to learn something important about relationships. Some parts of them appear to be welcomed, while others are not. A child may discover that happiness is encouraged, but sadness makes others uncomfortable. Being helpful may bring praise, while expressing anger brings criticism. Achievement may receive attention, while mistakes bring disappointment.

Sometimes these messages are spoken directly but more often, the message is communicated indirectly through approval, criticism, disappointment or emotional withdrawal. Gradually, the child begins to organise themselves around what appears to be acceptable. The unconscious question becomes less What am I feeling? and more What am I allowed to feel? This is where the seeds of conditional worth can begin.

When Inner Experience Conflicts with the Self-Concept

Carl Rogers believed that psychological difficulty can arise when there is a growing disparity between our actual inner experience and the self-concept we have developed. Our inner experience is continually changing, but alongside it we carry beliefs about who we think we should be. There is nothing wrong with having a sense of identity. The difficulty arises when our idea of who we should be becomes so rigid that certain experiences are no longer permitted to belong to us. A person may feel angry but believe that good people do not get angry. They may feel exhausted but believe that strong people do not struggle. They may want to leave a relationship but believe that loyalty means staying. Their actual experience and their learned self-concept begin to pull in different directions. Rogers described this disparity as incongruence.

When Feelings Become Unacceptable

When feelings conflict with our Conditions of Worth, we may learn to suppress them in order to protect ourselves from rejection. This is not simply a weakness or a failure to face reality. For a child, belonging and acceptance are deeply important. If expressing a particular feeling appears to threaten connection, the child may learn that the feeling itself is unsafe. The unconscious message becomes: If this part of me threatens acceptance, then this part of me must be hidden.

The feeling does not necessarily disappear. Instead, it may become disconnected from conscious awareness or emerge in another form. Anger may be turned inward and experienced as anxiety. Resentment may become guilt. Disappointment may become self-criticism. Needs may become shame. Over time, a person can become increasingly disconnected from their own internal experience. They may know what everyone else needs but struggle to recognise their own needs. They may constantly ask others for reassurance because they no longer fully trust their own judgement. Their sense of value becomes increasingly dependent upon external approval.

Why Conditional Self-Worth Feels So Fragile

Instead of asking What feels right or true for me? A person may increasingly ask What will other people think? Will they approve? Will they be disappointed?

This is one of the reasons self-esteem becomes so fragile. When our worth depends upon meeting particular conditions, we may feel secure when we are successful, helpful, productive or in control. But when we make a mistake, disappoint someone or fail to meet an expectation, our sense of worth can quickly collapse. The difference between ‘I made a mistake’ and ‘I am a failure’ becomes blurred. Someone else’s disappointment can feel like proof that we are a disappointing person. Being unable to cope can become evidence that we are weak. Conditional self-worth means that we are constantly required to maintain our value. There is little opportunity to simply be human.

How Conditions of Worth Continue into Adult Life

These early patterns can continue long into adulthood. The person who cannot say ‘no’ may have learned that being good means being accommodating. The person who constantly achieves may have learned that approval comes through performance. The person who takes responsibility for everyone else’s emotions may have learned that keeping others happy is necessary for emotional safety. Different patterns can emerge from different experiences, but beneath them may lie a similar fear: What will happen if I stop being who I believe I need to be?

The difficulty is that the person may continue living according to conditions that were formed long before they had the ability to question them. They may still be trying to be the good child.

Moving Towards Self-Acceptance and Self-Trust

The journey towards greater self-acceptance begins with becoming curious about these conditions. We can begin to notice the rules we unconsciously live by and ask where they came from. What did I learn I had to be in order to be accepted? What feelings did I learn were unacceptable? What happens inside me when I disappoint someone? Whose voice tells me who I should be?

Gradually, we can begin to move from looking outside ourselves for constant evaluation towards developing a greater trust in our own experience. This does not mean that we stop caring about others or become indifferent to their feelings.

Relationships will always involve consideration and compromise. But another person’s approval no longer has to be the sole authority on who we are. Perhaps one of the most important discoveries is that a feeling can be acknowledged without defining us. Feeling angry does not make us a bad person. Feeling tired does not make us weak. Having needs does not make us selfish. Making a mistake does not make us a failure.

We can learn to change without rejecting ourselves. We can disappoint someone without becoming a disappointment. And perhaps self-worth becomes less fragile when we stop asking if we have done enough to deserve acceptance. Instead, we learn how to remain accepting of ourselves even when life does not go perfectly. One of the deepest forms of self-worth begins when we no longer feel that we must continually earn our right to accept ourselves.

Collette O’Mahony, (Dip.Psy.C) September 2026

Collette O’Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

To book a free introduction session click here.

When Coping Gets Misread as Condition:

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Adaptation and Neurodevelopment.

In today’s mental health landscape, more people than ever are recognising themselves in diagnostic labels. Short-form content on social media apps has made information about ADHD, trauma, and emotional wellbeing widely accessible. This has helped reduce stigma and encouraged people to seek support, but it has also blurred important distinctions. One question is quietly emerging for many: Is this ADHD, or could it be emotional dysregulation shaped by my experiences?

This article explores that overlap with care. This is not about discrediting neurodiversity, nor about gatekeeping diagnosis. It is about creating space for nuanced self-reflection, particularly for those whose struggles may stem from adaptive responses to early environments rather than innate neurological differences.

Why Emotional Dysregulation Can Look Like ADHD

Emotional dysregulation refers to difficulty managing, processing, or responding to emotional experiences. It can show up as overwhelm, impulsivity, shutdown, or intense mood shifts. These patterns often resemble traits associated with ADHD; such as difficulty concentrating, restlessness, or reactive decision-making. On the surface, the overlap can feel convincing. However, similarity in behaviour does not always mean similarity in origin. For some individuals, these traits are linked to neurodevelopmental differences. For others, they reflect learned responses shaped by stress, relationships, or early environments. Understanding this distinction is not about being right; it’s about being accurate enough to support meaningful change.

Adaptation: When Coping Becomes a Pattern

Children adapt to their environments in remarkably intelligent ways. When emotional needs are not consistently met, whether through unpredictability, lack of attunement, or emotional absence, they develop strategies to cope.

A child who grows up needing to stay alert to shifts in mood may become hyper-aware of their surroundings. In adulthood, this can feel like distractibility, when it is actually a nervous system scanning for safety. Similarly, emotional suppression can resemble numbness, and impulsive reactions may stem from never having learned co-regulation. Over time, these responses become familiar. They can feel like personality traits, rather than adaptations. This is where confusion often arises. What looks like ADHD may, in some cases, be the long-term imprint of emotional dysregulation.

Emotional Regulation Is Learned in Relationship

Emotional regulation is not something we are born knowing how to do. It develops through consistent, supportive relationships where emotions are recognised, validated, and safely expressed. When this process is disrupted, adults may find themselves unsure how to identify or communicate what they feel. Some experience intense emotional flooding, while others feel disconnected or numb. Often, there are underlying beliefs that emotions are unsafe or should be hidden. These responses are not signs of failure. They are reflections of what was, or wasn’t, available during key stages of development

ADHD and Emotional Dysregulation: Holding Both Truths

It is important to say clearly that ADHD is a valid and well-established neurodevelopmental condition. It involves differences in attention, regulation, and executive functioning that are present across contexts and throughout life. At the same time, not all emotional dysregulation is ADHD. For some people, a diagnosis provides clarity, relief, and access to support. For others, understanding their patterns through the lens of emotional history and adaptation can be more accurate and helpful. Both experiences deserve respect. The goal is not to separate people into categories, but to better understand the roots of their struggles.

What has my system learned to do in order to cope?

This question opens the door to self-understanding without judgement. It shifts the focus away from labels and toward lived experience. You might begin by noticing when your patterns show up most strongly. Are they consistent across all areas of life, or more intense in emotionally charged situations? Do they shift with support, safety, or understanding? What early experiences might have shaped how you respond to stress or emotion? These reflections are not diagnostic tools, but they can offer meaningful insight which can be explored in a therapeutic setting.

Moving away from Labels.

In a world that often encourages quick identification, it can be tempting to find certainty in a label. Sometimes that label is exactly what is needed. Other times, it may overlook a more personal and nuanced story. The patterns you carry made sense at some point, even if they no longer serve you now. Real change begins not with labelling, but with understanding. And from there, something more flexible and more compassionate, can begin to take shape.

Collette O’Mahony is a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in private practice, working with clients online. She writes regularly on mental health and emotional wellbeing, with a focus on self-discovery, developing self-awareness, and supporting individuals to take meaningful responsibility for their inner lives.

To book a free introduction session click here.

The Role of Childhood in Forming Adult Identities

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Many adults who begin therapy describe a subtle but persistent feeling that they have spent much of their lives being the person others needed them to be, rather than the person they naturally are. On the outside they may appear capable, responsible and well adjusted, yet internally there can be a sense of disconnection from their own feelings, preferences or needs. In psychology this experience is sometimes described as living from a false self.

Despite how the phrase may sound, a false self is not about dishonesty or pretending. It is usually a protective adaptation that develops during childhood in response to the emotional environment around us. When we understand how this process unfolds, it becomes easier to see why so many thoughtful, capable adults still struggle with authenticity later in life.

The idea of the false self was introduced by the psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott, who observed that a child’s sense of identity develops through being seen, understood and responded to by caregivers. When a child’s feelings and spontaneous expressions are welcomed, they gradually develop what Winnicott called a true self; a sense of being real, emotionally alive and able to express themselves naturally in the world.

However, not all environments allow this process to unfold easily. Children are highly sensitive to the emotional climate around them. If certain feelings lead to tension, criticism, withdrawal or unpredictability, the child often learns, without consciously realising it, to adjust their behaviour in order to maintain connection and safety. They may become especially responsible, quiet their own needs, avoid conflict or focus on keeping others comfortable. These adjustments can work remarkably well in childhood, helping the child navigate difficult emotional situations. Over time, however, these adaptive patterns can become so familiar that they begin to replace the person’s natural responses.

In adult life this can lead to a feeling of performing rather than simply being. Some people notice that they automatically prioritise other people’s needs, struggle to identify what they themselves want, or feel uneasy expressing disagreement or vulnerability. Others describe a sense of exhaustion from constantly adapting to expectations. Interestingly, these patterns can become especially noticeable in environments that resemble earlier family dynamics. Returning to the family home, interacting with certain relatives or entering hierarchical situations can sometimes trigger a quick return to old ways of responding. When this happens, it does not mean that personal growth has been lost; it simply means that the mind recognises a familiar emotional landscape and briefly reactivates an old strategy for maintaining safety.

Seen in this light, the false self is not a flaw but a sign of the mind’s remarkable adaptability. At the time it developed, it was often the best available way to preserve connection, stability or emotional protection. For this reason, the aim of therapy is not to eliminate this part of the self but to understand it and gradually reduce the need to rely on it in every situation.

Reconnecting with a more authentic sense of self tends to be a gradual and compassionate process rather than a dramatic transformation. It often begins with simply noticing the moments when we automatically adapt or override our own feelings. From there, many people begin to rediscover their internal experience, such as preferences, emotions and bodily responses, which may have been set aside for many years. As these signals become clearer, it becomes possible to experiment with expressing them in small, safe ways within supportive relationships.

Over time, these experiences help the nervous system learn something important: that authenticity does not necessarily threaten connection. In fact, when it is expressed thoughtfully and safely, authenticity often deepens relationships rather than weakening them.

In this sense, reconnecting with the authentic self is rarely about becoming someone new. More often it involves rediscovering aspects of ourselves that were always present but had to remain quiet for a time. With patience, understanding and the right support, people can learn that it is possible to remain connected to others while also remaining connected to themselves.

Collette O’Mahony 07 March 2026

If anything in this article resonates and you wish to explore more: Contact me at info@colletteomahony.com – with your name, age, issue and goals for therapy. I offer a free introduction session of 15 minutes to assess if you want to proceed. One hour online sessions are £45. Psychotherapy

Emotional Dysregulation

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Making Sense of Reactions That Once Kept You Safe

When someone has lived with emotional abuse, their reactions later in life can feel confusing or even frightening to them. They may feel overwhelmed by emotions, struggle to calm themselves, or wonder why certain interactions affect them so deeply. Often, what they are experiencing is emotional dysregulation, not because they are failing to cope, but because their nervous system learned to survive in an unsafe emotional environment. Emotional abuse doesn’t always look dramatic from the outside. It can be subtle, ongoing, and hard to name. It might involve criticism, emotional withdrawal, unpredictability, or being made to feel small or ‘too much.’ Over time, these experiences shape how a person relates not only to others, but to their own inner world.

When emotions were not safe to express, or when love felt conditional, the nervous system adapted. It learned to stay alert, to watch for changes, to anticipate harm before it arrived. These adaptations were intelligent responses at the time. They helped the person remain connected, avoid rejection, or minimise emotional pain. The difficulty is that the nervous system doesn’t automatically update when circumstances change.

Body’s Response

Many people describe feeling as though their reactions are out of proportion to the present moment. A tone of voice, a silence, or a perceived shift in connection can bring a surge of fear, anger, or despair. Intellectually, they may know they are safe, yet emotionally they feel anything but. This isn’t a failure of insight or self-control. It’s the body responding to something that feels familiar, even if it no longer reflects the current reality.

When emotional abuse occurs within close relationships, particularly in childhood or long-term partnerships, attachment becomes intertwined with threat. The person they need for safety is also the person who causes pain. In these circumstances, the nervous system often chooses connection over protection. People learn to minimise their own needs, to take responsibility for others’ emotions, or to work harder to preserve closeness, even when it costs them.

Healing the Nervous System

Later in life, these patterns can reappear in adult relationships, especially during conflict, separation, or emotional distance. A sense of stability may feel fragile. Calm may feel temporary or unreliable. There can be a strong urge to repair, to fix, or to hold things together, alongside moments of emotional shutdown or exhaustion. Again, these are not signs of weakness. They are echoes of earlier survival strategies.

Healing emotional dysregulation is not about learning to control emotions or make them disappear. It’s about helping the nervous system experience safety in new ways. This is a gradual process. It involves becoming curious about bodily sensations, learning to recognise the early signs of overwhelm, and developing ways to settle the system rather than override it.

Just as importantly, healing often involves grief. Grief for the safety, consistency, or emotional calibration that was missing earlier in life. Allowing space for that grief can be deeply regulating in itself. Over time, as safety is built from the inside out, emotions become less frightening. They begin to move through rather than take over.

For those living with the effects of emotional abuse, it’s important to say this clearly: there is nothing inherently wrong with you. Your responses make sense when understood in the context of what you lived through. Healing is not about becoming someone different. It’s about slowly, compassionately helping your system learn that it no longer has to live in survival mode.

Change doesn’t come from self-criticism or pushing harder. It comes from understanding, from patience, and from relationships, including the therapeutic one, that offer steadiness where there was once uncertainty.

Collette O’Mahony (Dip.Psy.C) Psychotherapy

For a free 15 minute introduction, email me at: info@colletteomahony.com (include your name, email address and goals for therapy).

Surviving Parental Trauma

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Many adults struggle in relationships, with emotions, or with their sense of self without fully understanding why. Often, the missing piece is this: they grew up with a parent who was carrying unresolved trauma. This article is for adult children of trauma-affected parents. It is not about diagnosing parents or assigning blame. Instead, it’s about understanding how growing up around unprocessed trauma can shape a child and how that child, now an adult, can begin to heal. A parent does not need to talk about their trauma for it to affect their child. Trauma lives in the nervous system, and children are exquisitely sensitive to it. They feel it in tone, in mood shifts, in emotional absences, and in reactions that seem bigger than the moment calls for. A trauma-affected parent may feel emotionally unpredictable to a child, sometimes present and loving, other times overwhelmed, withdrawn, anxious, controlling, or unreachable. Even when care and love are present, they may exist alongside fear, confusion, or emotional distance. For a child, this creates a painful contradiction: the same person who provides comfort may also be the source of distress. Over time, the child adapts.

Adaptation as Survival

Children always adapt to their environment. When a parent’s unresolved trauma dominates the emotional landscape, the child learns, often without awareness, what is required to stay connected and safe. Many adult children of trauma-affected parents learned to closely monitor moods, anticipate emotional shifts, stay quiet or helpful, take responsibility for other people’s feelings, or grow up far too quickly. These were not personality traits; they were survival strategies.

Often, these adaptations later become strengths. Empathy, responsibility, sensitivity, and attunement may be highly developed. But what once protected the child can later limit the adult, especially in relationships that require mutuality rather than vigilance.

Body Memory

Trauma is not just remembered; it is encoded in the nervous system. As adults, many people notice that being with their parent, or even thinking about them, triggers strong physical responses. Anxiety, panic, freezing, emotional shutdown, sudden anger, or overwhelming guilt can appear quickly and feel disproportionate. Some people notice that they feel much younger in these moments, as though they are transported back into the emotional world of childhood. These reactions are not signs of weakness or immaturity. They are learned survival responses. The body remembers what it had to do to stay safe long before the adult mind had language or choice.

Invisible Beliefs

Growing up around unresolved trauma often shapes quiet, deeply held beliefs about self and relationships. Many adult children carry an unspoken sense that their needs are too much, that they are responsible for other people’s emotions, or that closeness inevitably leads to danger or loss. These beliefs are rarely conscious, yet they influence boundaries, intimacy, work, and self-worth throughout adulthood. They shape how much space a person feels entitled to take, how safe they feel depending on others, and how easily they experience guilt when prioritising themselves.

Triggers

For many adult children, the parent themselves becomes a trauma trigger, not because the parent intends harm, but because the relationship is linked to years of emotional unpredictability. This can create a deep and painful inner conflict. There may be a longing for closeness alongside a strong sense of unsafety, compassion that exists next to anger or grief, or a tendency to minimize one’s own pain because the parent “had it worse.” Understanding this dynamic can be profoundly relieving. It explains why insight alone does not make these reactions disappear and why healing must involve the nervous system, not just logic or willpower.

One of the most difficult and most healing tasks for adult children is learning to hold two truths at the same time: a parent may have been deeply wounded and doing the best they could, and the child’s emotional needs were still not fully met. Acknowledging impact is not the same as blaming. Your pain does not invalidate your compassion, and your compassion does not erase your pain. Both can exist together.

Healing

Healing from parental trauma is not about fixing the parent or forcing forgiveness. It is about restoring safety, choice, and connection to oneself. This often includes learning to recognise and regulate trauma responses, developing boundaries that protect the nervous system, grieving the parent you needed but did not have, and untangling responsibility from love. Over time, it also means building relationships that feel steadier, more reciprocal, and less activating.

Healing rarely happens all at once. It unfolds gradually, in layers. What matters is not how much you understand, but how much safety you allow yourself to experience in the present.

If you grew up with a trauma-affected parent, your struggles make sense. You adapted to an environment that asked more of you than it should have. You are not broken. You are responding exactly as someone who learned to survive early and often. Healing does not require blame. It requires honesty, compassion, and the permission to care for yourself in ways you never received. You deserved safety then. You are allowed to choose it now.

For one-to-one counselling email me with your name, age and goals for therapy. I offer a free introductory session of 15 minutes. All sessions are online.

info@colletteomahony.com

Collette O’Mahony. February 2026.