The other day, I read Trust Vs. Mistrust: The First Crises of Being, which explores the relationship between Ericson's Stages of Psycho-Social Development and Neurodivergence. This article tied together so many experiences and concepts that have recently clicked into place for me. It puts words to things I've already been thinking and feeling, and just at the right time. I highly recommend reading this article for yourself, as well as the others which will be in this series.
This stage of development is from 0-18 months, and impacts whether or not a child feels safe in the world. Will their need for feeding, soothing, and co-regulation be met consistently? If so, they will develop a sense of hope and that the world is mostly reliable. If not, anxiety, fear, hypervigilance, and relational withdrawal due to mistrust of the world develops. Neurodivergent considerations include: feeding/sleep struggles; sensory overload for infant and/or caregiver; temperamental mismatches; and lack of support systems.
Although I don't have any conscious memories from this developmental stage, I am certain my needs were not consistently met and that mistrust was encoded. I was a very fearful, anxious, and hypervigilant child. Additionally, I have always felt that my mom resented me for being disable, as if my existence were a punishment. When I was a toddler she would walk away and force me to follow her in busy stores, pull away when I would try to hold onto her, let me fall up/down stairs, and get angry with me for crying after watching me run into things. She was very heavy-handed when taking care of me: yanking on my clothing, irritably raking a brush through my hair as I screamed, etc. From a young age, my dreams were very stressful, often involving disasters, extreme violence, or death. I would cry myself to sleep, because I was afraid of growing up and navigating life on my own. She would tell me to just think of something positive before falling asleep, but that never helped, probably because she frequently told me she wanted to run away.
During this developmental stage, my mom was under a lot of stress. She was taking care of two infants as well as three other children, one of whom was also disabled and had behavioral issues. She was working, I believe we moved during this developmental stage, and she was in a tense marriage. She used to carry me and my twin brother around at the same time, one on each arm. We spoke about this time recently, and she said I was a good baby, but she didn't feel as connected to me as she did to my twin since he was able to make eye contact and I wasn't. This was hard to hear, but not surprising given everything I've felt over the years. She has always told me I was very quiet for the first year, and that I slept a lot. Therefore, she most likely interacted with my twin more during that time, both because she could connect with him and because he was more vocal and demanded more attention. Since I did not, my need for co-regulation likely went unmet. I also wonder if my visual impairment meant that I didn't know she was nearby. This could have instilled a certain level of fear and uncertainty. Based on the relationship I had with my dad as a child, he probably held me more, and that is why I was able to feel safe with him. I have very fond memories of laying on the floor and co-regulating with him after he got home from work. Even though this wasn't during this developmental stage, it signifies how he may have treated me as an infant. My mom, on the other hand, always needed her own physical space and was not very affectionate, although she was more affectionate with my brother than she ever was with me or my sister. I believe this touch aversion was due to sensory issues, rather than a lack of love.
I wasn't the only baby my mom struggled to connect with. During our conversation, we also discussed what it was like when my sister was a baby. She told me about how hard it was to connect with her, and unfortunately, that failure to properly bond is evident in their relationship to this day. It seems my mom was more able to connect with her boys in general, and I believe one of the major factors in this is that she was forced to give up her first baby, a girl, for adoption. She was an unmarried teenager, and she would have been on her own. Unfortunately, this lack of support continued even after she was married and had my older brother and sister. She told me about going to my grandparents' house and asking to spend one night there, and being turned away. She was also working, in school, and her husband was a drug addict who didn't help her raise their children. Everything was all on her, my brother had multiple disabilities and required a lot of medical care. He was apparently able to entertain himself so she could get other work done. My sister, on the other hand, needed nearly constant attention and stimulation. If my mom wasn't interacting with her, she would scream. I can imagine how overstimulating that must have been for my mom, especially while under so much stress. They were clearly a temperamental mismatch and my mom definitely needed more of a support system.
When temperaments clash, challenges can be expected. My sister was high sensory-seeking while mom was sensory sensitive. My sister likely loved movement, loudness, and physical touch; whereas my mom was easily overstimulated by noise or touch. The article says the parent may feel flooded or avoidant, and the toddler may escalate bid for connection/input. Based on what my mom has told me, this is exactly what happened. As my sister got older, and her bids for connection were being missed, she began to act out to get attention. She would get into mom's makeup, draw all over her dolls' faces, and cut her hair. She would push a chair over to the door, climb on it to unlock the door, and sneak out to run to grandma's house to have breakfast with them. My mom thought she was a bad child, but she was just in need of connection. My sister and I were probably both emotionally intense and had big reactions to discomfort or change. My mom was usually emotionally avoidant or cold, but sometimes she would snap and overreact, which was scary. Because of my mom's emotional avoidance, my sister and I likely felt unsafe and invalidated. The last goodness-of-fit challenge I am aware of in my family likely only affected my mom's connection to me. I was under-responsive and potentially slow-to-warm, and my mom had high social expectations and was eager to bond. She may have felt rejected, but she was definitely unsure how to engage with me. I couldn't make eye contact or react as well to visual stimuli. I probably felt overstimulated and misread by her. After the first year, I started climbing out of my crib to play with toys in the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping. This bothered my dad, but my mom said to let me be since I wasn't bothering anyone. Even after I was more alert, I don't think I was engaging with her the way she expected. This preference for staying up all night continued well into adulthood.
Although it makes me very sad that my mom wasn't able to properly bond with her daughters, I am glad I spoke with her about her experience. She was overworked, under-supported, overstimulated, and probably didn't understand why bonding with her girls was so difficult. I feel like I understand her and my sister on a deeper level, and I have so much more compassion for her, my sister, and myself. I would love to talk to her about all of this, but she is not open to discussions about disability. She also would not be able to name and acknowledge when things felt hard or missed without spiraling into shame. When we have mentioned negative experiences from childhood, she gets defensive and invalidates our experiences. "You didn't have a traumatic childhood, your childhood was great, I was a great mother," she'd say. So, unfortunately, talking about what happened isn't a way we can build trust, it usually just erodes trust even further. Recently, however, she surprised me by naming a miss and repairing afterward. She snapped at me and she actually apologized later. Although that may seem insignificant, it is proof of her growth and made me feel a little more secure in our relationship. That would have never happened when I was younger. I have been helping her by modeling self-trust by naming my own needs. Recently she told me how much she was dreading a family gathering that was going to be at her house. There were going to be 20 people in a small space, and it was going to be loud. She told me she might need to take breaks. Naming my needs and refusing to let people shame me for them has clearly benefited her, even though we still can't talk about why I have those needs. Still, progress is progress. One thing my mom and I have always been good at is creating routines or rituals that offer consistency and connection. Now that I no longer live with her, and as our relationship has evolved, we no longer have many of our routines. We don't talk on the phone every night like we used to, for example, but I still try to spend Sundays with her whenever possible. Even though our relationship has been rocky and a lot of harm has been done, my mom is an important part of my support system. I considered her my best friend, regardless of how I was treated, for many years.
What makes the timing of this article so great is that I finally reached the point of self-acceptance a few months ago and have been working on rebuilding trust now that I have the language, support and self-awareness to do so. The article says, "Trust isn't built all at once. It happens in micromoments ~ small cues of safety, over and over again." Exactly! Sometimes I literally have to tell myself that in this moment, I am safe. However, every time someone else responds to me in an open, understanding, and supportive way, that signals safety and helps me build trust. Another quote says, "Sometimes that begins in relationships, with a partner who stays steady when you unmask..." Yes! I recently wrote about this in Healing in a Safe Relationship. We have been together well over a year now, and I am still adjusting to being with a safe, regulated person. I love my family, but they are all very dysregulated, and many of them shame me for things I can't control. My partner never does that, and it was just what I needed to finally heal. Talk therapy was not helpful for me, but understanding these concepts and viewing my life, relationships, and experiences through a different lens has allowed me to see myself in a less distorted light. I have also been building trust by recognizing my own needs, learning when to rest instead of push, and developing awareness of overstimulation and stepping away. This is all just from educating myself, building more awareness, and working toward self-acceptance, so this article serves as a much appreciated confirmation that I've been on the right track.
Trust Vs. Mistrust: The First Crises of Being has much more useful information than what was shared here, including a list of tips for rebuilding trust as an adult. If you enjoyed my post, you should definitely check it out. I hope my words help anyone who reads them make new connections, gain a new perspective, and develop more compassion for themselves and others. Thanks for reading! 💙