Invisible Wounds: An Asian Therapist’s Insights on Common Struggles in Asian Family Dynamics

The last time I checked, the Asian Parent Stories subreddit had over 118,000 members - this speaks volumes about the need for safe spaces—places where people can share their stories and feel understood.

It doesn’t take long scrolling through the posts to notice stories of frustration, hurt, sadness, anger, pain, and longing. As an Asian therapist, I often hear similar themes echoed in the therapy room. And beneath all of it—a deep desire to feel seen and valued.

Many adult children from traditional or immigrant families carry similar emotional wounds. And yet, there’s incredible diversity within Asian cultures. These emotional wounds often overlap with those experienced in non-Asian families too.

“I see your pain, and I believe you.”

If you were raised in a traditional Asian family or grew up with complex family dynamics within an Asian household, parts of what I share here may resonate with your own experience.

It is an honour to support my Asian clients in giving voice to their stories—sometimes for the very first time. Healing begins when someone says, “I see your pain, and I believe you.” Healing also begins when stories are held safely and with care. If you recognize your story in these words, my hope is that you feel truly seen and understood.

The patterns described in this blog have likely shaped your sense of self, your relationships, and how you navigate the world today. May these words give voice to pain you may have carried quietly for years, and bring validation to the struggles you’ve faced.

The Longing for Connection and Understanding

In many Asian families, love is expressed through actions—through cutting of fruits, packed lunches, paying for education, and long work hours. These gestures matter deeply. But children also need emotional attunement: to be seen, soothed, and understood.

As psychologist Jonice Webb puts it: “It’s not what your parents did to you. It’s what they didn’t do for you.”

Emotional neglect happens when a caregiver is unable to recognize or respond to a child’s emotional needs—even if they provide everything else. Often, the harm wasn't intentional. But the absence of emotional presence can leave lasting, invisible wounds. 

You might long for emotional closeness in a parent-child bond —the kind of relationship where you can talk openly, share your struggles, and feel held. But emotional expression may not have been modeled in your family. Maybe your parents never or rarely said, “I’m proud of you,” or “I love you.” Maybe there were few moments of warmth or physical affection. You might know your parents love you—but knowing is not the same as feeling loved.

Being vulnerable with your parents may feel unsafe, especially if you’ve been hurt, dismissed, or misunderstood in the past. If you experienced emotional abuse or neglect, you likely learned early on to guard your heart—to protect it by shutting down or hiding your feelings. Expressing emotions could be seen as weakness, “talking back,” or unnecessary.

When Hurt Goes Unspoken

In some families, conflict isn’t openly addressed or repaired—it’s met with silence. After an argument, nothing is spoken about. Emotions are swept under the rug, and daily life continues as if nothing happened.

But just because things appear “normal” on the surface doesn’t mean the wounds are gone. The hurt lingers. And when this pattern repeats over time, those unspoken tensions quietly accumulate.

Without open conversations or meaningful apologies, these repeated ruptures create distance—an invisible gap between you and your parents/family members. You might find yourself feeling lonely, even in the presence of family members.

It becomes difficult to move toward emotional closeness when past hurts are never acknowledged—and when no one takes responsibility. Without repair, connection can feel out of reach.

Filial Piety

In many Asian cultures, filial piety (孝顺 xiào shùn)—a deep respect and devotion to one’s parents—is a foundational value. It emphasizes caring for your parents as they age and honoring their wishes.

For some, filial piety is a reciprocal expression of love and support, coming from genuine appreciation and connection. For others, it can feel more authoritative, where personal goals are sacrificed to meet family’s expectations.

While this value can be beautiful and nurturing when it’s heartfelt and mutual, it can also feel heavy when it arises from obligation or pressure. You might feel guilt for desiring space, autonomy, or a life that looks different from what your parents envisioned. You may struggle with feeling selfish when setting boundaries with your parents/family members.

Parentification: When the Child Becomes the Parent

You may have become your parents’ emotional anchor. The one they confided in. The one who mediated their arguments or took care of your siblings. The one who had to translate your mother tongue language into English. The “strong one” who couldn’t fall apart. 

This dynamic, called parentification, can leave deep emotional impacts. You were burdened with responsibilities far beyond your years—being the listener, the peacemaker, the fixer. And yet, your own emotional needs often went unnoticed. You had to grow up quickly and did not get to have a carefree childhood. 

When Success Equates Survival 

In many Asian families, hard work and academic achievement are deeply held values. In some Asian families, from a young age, success is often defined by academic excellence, acceptance into top universities, and a “stable, respectable” career—usually in fields like medicine, law, engineering, or finance. Anything outside of this may be seen as disappointing or even shameful.

For many refugee and immigrant families, this emphasis on success is rooted in survival. When parents have lived through poverty, war, or political instability, the need for financial stability becomes paramount. Stability represents safety and freedom. A “good” career represents a pathway out of hardship, a way to ensure the family’s sacrifices weren’t in vain.

When Failure Feels Like Shame

Closely tied to this is the cultural value of saving face (Miànzi (面子))—preserving the family’s public image and reputation. There’s often immense pressure to appear successful on the outside, even when things feel painful or chaotic behind closed doors.

Because of this, anything perceived as weakness—emotional struggles, academic challenges, career uncertainty—is often hidden. Failure is feared, not just for its consequences, but because it is tied to shame. And shame doesn’t just feel like an individual burden —but one carried on behalf of the entire family.

This fear of failure can become deeply internalized. There may be little to no permission to make mistakes, to explore, to change your mind. The mere thought of failure may feel unbearable—not just because you're afraid of disappointing yourself, but because of the crushing weight of what it might mean to your parents or your sense of worth. 

Navigating Complex Emotions

Your grief is real and valid. It’s deeply painful to long for a close, nurturing parent-child relationship, only to be met—again and again—with disappointment and unmet hopes.

Many adult children feel guilt for even feeling angry towards their parents. You might ask yourself:

How can I be upset with them when they sacrificed so much? Am I just being ungrateful?

You can feel both gratitude and grief. You can honor what your parents went through and acknowledge the pain you feel. These two truths can coexist.

Intergenerational Trauma

Many Asian parents lived through poverty, war, migration, or trauma. In survival mode, emotional needs are often set aside. Your parents may have lacked the emotional vocabulary to name and process their own feelings. Growing up, their parents had similar struggles. Generationally, survival often came before self-reflection. Emotional maturity was a luxury that earlier generations didn’t have the space to develop. The lack of emotional attunement is oftentimes a part of intergenerational trauma that continues being passed down until someone breaks the cycle.

Tending to your Inner Child

As an adult, you may understand the context in which your parents and grandparents grew up in. But that does not take away the truth that you feel hurt and that what happened to you, matters, deeply. It does not erase the unmet needs and wounds of your younger self.

That child in you still needed love, attunement, and safety. And for healing to happen, your inner child who is still carrying burdens and pain deserves to be witnessed. Naming the lack of emotional attunement and creating space to grief what you missed out on from receiving from your parents is a powerful step toward healing.

Your inner child—the part of you that needed comfort, love, and validation—still lives inside of you. Healing begins when that child is finally seen and heard.

The Journey of Healing and Breaking the Cycle

Processing these family dynamics is not about blaming your parents. It’s about acknowledging the impact of your upbringing. You can honor parts of your culture that feel meaningful to you—and at the same time, align yourself with your own chosen values.

This healing process often brings grief. You are not too sensitive. You are someone who longs to feel seen, safe, and loved—just as you are.

At Anchored Hearts Counselling and Grief Therapy in Port Coquitlam, BC, we provide a compassionate space to explore these childhood wounds and relational trauma. You don’t have to untangle it all alone. In therapy, we hold space for you to grieve what you didn’t receive and to reconnect with your authentic self. We are here to walk alongside you.