Have you ever felt like you give your all but get only indifference or a transactional attitude in return?
Sometimes my partner doesn’t notice, my colleagues don’t respect me, and my loved ones take me for granted. A quiet, persistent question follows: “What’s wrong with me?”
Let’s figure it out
Self-worth is not about self-esteem. It’s important to distinguish these concepts from the start, as they are often confused.
Self-esteem is about how well a person can do something.
Self-worth is about whether someone feels valuable simply by existing. Not for their achievements, not for their usefulness, not for “being good.” But simply because they exist.
And this is a big problem for many people.
Where does the sense of self-worth come from?
Self-worth is formed in childhood. Not through lectures and explanations, but through experience. Through how the child was viewed. How their feelings were responded to. Whether there was a space where they could simply be—without conditions, without the need to earn attention and love.
If this space exists, a stable feeling forms within: I am valuable. I am important. Everything is okay with me.
If not, a person grows up with a hole inside. And… for ten years, they have tried to fill this hole externally. With money, achievements, relationships, and other people’s approval. But the hole doesn’t go away – because it’s inside, not outside. That’s how it is.
Two traumas are particularly destructive to self-worth: the trauma of abandonment and the trauma of rejection. Let’s explore each.
Abandonment trauma – when someone leaves
This doesn’t necessarily mean parents literally abandoned their child. Although that does happen. More often, these are more mundane stories.
The parents left the child with the grandmother, and the child didn’t know if they would ever return. The father left the family, and with him went the sense of stability. The mother was physically close, but emotionally she was somewhere far away, in her worries, in her fatigue, in her pain.
A child’s psyche can’t explain events objectively. They don’t yet have the tools for this—their brains aren’t mature yet, they lack experience, and cause-and-effect relationships are very straightforward. And the conclusion is this: if they left me, that means I’m not valuable enough for them to stay.
Not “Dad was sick and couldn’t cope.” Not “Mom was tired and needed help.” But – it’s my fault. I’m not good enough. If I were valuable, they wouldn’t have abandoned me.
The child integrates this conclusion internally and carries it with them into adulthood. And then begins what many recognize very well about themselves.
Constant excuses—even when no one demands anything. Preemptive apologies. Attempts to placate, to please, to anticipate someone else’s discontent and neutralize it before it arises. It’s as if the person is constantly expecting to be abandoned again—and is trying with all their might to prevent it.
People come to me for therapy who literally can’t end a conversation without apologizing five times. Who takes responsibility for everyone’s mood? Who bend over backwards to be comfortable—and yet, inside, a quiet despair grows: they still don’t see me. They still don’t appreciate me. They still leave.
And it’s a vicious circle. A person with unprocessed abandonment trauma attracts and creates precisely those situations in which they experience the same thing over and over again. Different faces, different circumstances—but the same scenario.
The trauma of rejection – when they say “you’re not like that.”
If, when abandoned, a child concludes that “I am to blame for what happened,” then when rejected, the conclusion is different: “there is something wrong with me.”
Rejection can be direct—criticism, ridicule, unfavorable comparisons. “Sasha from the next class is great, and you?” “You could be prettier if you took better care of yourself.” “You’re too sensitive, that’s a weakness.” (The same goes for “Mom’s friend’s son”)
Or it could be indirect – the indifference of a parent of the opposite sex, lack of interest, or emotional coldness. A father who ignored his daughter. A mother who was uninterested in her son.
In both cases, the child draws the same conclusion: the problem is me. I’m not good enough. I’m somehow different. And if I improve, I’ll finally be accepted.
This is how perfectionism is born. Not as a character trait, but as a survival strategy. If I become perfect, I won’t be rejected. If I don’t give anyone cause for criticism, I’ll be safe.
A person begins to chase perfection. They polish their appearance, achievements, and behavior. They’re constantly on edge—what if someone notices a flaw? What if they’re not good enough again?
And most importantly, this race never ends. Because the hole within you isn’t filled by external achievements. You can become very successful, beautiful, rich—and still feel inside that you’re somehow different. That it won’t last. That you’ll be exposed soon.
Does this sound familiar to you?
How does this manifest itself in adult life?
Both options—abandonment and rejection—lead to the same result: a person doesn’t feel valued. And this has very concrete consequences for their life.
In relationships. A person with low self-esteem attracts partners who don’t see them. Those who devalue them, ignore them, and treat them like consumers. Why? Because my internal map of reality says: this is normal. This is how I should be perceived. If someone treats me well, it means they don’t know something. They’ll figure it out.
And a person gets hurt again and again in the same relationships. They leave one, enter another, and the scenario repeats itself. Because it’s not about the partners. It’s about the internal setup.
About money and success. “I’m not worthy of earning a lot.” “That’s for others, not for me.” Success comes, and a person sabotages it. Or they earn it—and then immediately lose it. Or they receive recognition—and devalue it themselves: “I was just lucky.” The attitude “I’m not valuable” also blocks material well-being.
In self-expression. It’s hard to talk about your desires. It’s hard to say no. It’s hard to take up space—in conversation, in relationships, in life. People are used to being convenient, unnoticeable, and not demanding much. Because a long time ago, they learned: if I demand, they’ll leave. If I show off, they’ll reject.
Searching for value from the outside. A nice car, a prestigious job, a perfect figure—these are all attempts to compensate for an internal deficiency with external attributes. It doesn’t work for long. Because true self-worth isn’t about what’s around you. It’s about what’s inside.
Why doesn’t this go away with time?
You can understand all this intellectually. Read books, watch videos, and do exercises from the internet. And yet nothing changes.
Because trauma isn’t an idea in the head. It’s an experience recorded in the body, in the nervous system, in unconscious reactions. And understanding alone isn’t enough to rewrite this experience.
A person who grew up feeling “I’m not valuable enough” will replay situations that confirm this over and over again—even if they know in their mind that they’re wrong. Because the psyche craves the familiar. The predictable. Something that’s at least understandable.
Breaking out of this cycle means more than just understanding where it all comes from. It means returning to a specific experience, experiencing it with support, drawing new conclusions, and consolidating them with action. This is true therapeutic work.
People come to me who have “known” about their traumas for years. And only in the work—when a safe space opens up to finally see it all through someone other than a child’s eyes—does something truly change.
Ask yourself honestly ->
Do you feel like you constantly have to earn respect? Do you find it difficult to accept good things—compliments, help, love—without feeling like they’re somehow inauthentic? Do you continually attract people into your life who don’t see or appreciate you? Do you feel a gap between what you want and what you allow yourself to have?
If it resonates, it’s not a death sentence. Self-esteem isn’t formed once and for all in childhood. It can be restored. As an adult, in therapy, by working through the very situations that destroyed it in the first place.
Growing up is when you stop trying to prove your worth and start living simply from that feeling. Without trying to please. Without constantly justifying your right to exist.
At the session, you can:
- find out what specific trauma underlies your sense of self,
- see how it manifests itself in your relationships, in money, in self-expression,
- start building internal support – stable, independent of other people’s assessments.
If you have any questions, please write them in the comments.
If you feel it’s time to sort this out, I’d be happy to see you for a consultation.
