Thank you NK for the suggestion to open this thread:
Why "Inner Strength" Does Not Land – A Developmental Mismatch
When I hear "you have great inner strength," (something my CBT T said a lot) my system reacts with anger – not because I reject growth or don't understand the CBT intent, but because in my case, what looked like "strength" was actually over-adaptation. Survival depended on hyper-functioning, vigilance, maintaining harmony, suppressing my own reality and needs to preserve connection – self-erasure through compliance, endurance, silence, and not burdening others. That came at the cost of authenticity, needs, and safety. There was no opportunity to develop an internal self that could hold safety.
So when those same CPTSD adaptations are praised now, it feels like harm is being misnamed as virtue – like being congratulated for what nearly destroyed me. On a nervous-system level, "you have great inner strength" also lands as: you should already have the thing you were never given the chance to develop. That's why it feels invalidating. It also triggers my abandonment wire: if I'm told to "find it in myself" before it exists, I experience it as being left alone with the collapse – one of my core hot wires.
Internal safety isn't something I can simply access, will into existence or derive from the same adaptations that kept me alive. Those survival strategies cannot be the foundation of the future.
What research actually shows – and what finally made sense to me – is that internal safety doesn't originate from willpower, insight, or reframing. It develops relationally, very early in life, through repeated experiences of co-regulation. Through being seen, soothed, and responded to, the nervous system learns that distress can settle and connection is reliable. Even when that opportunity wasn't available in childhood, internal safety can still be built later – but it still forms through relationship, not "strength." It requires attuned presence and co-regulation after collapse, not assumptions that the internal structure already exists. The basis from which real strength eventually grows is the capacity to stay in connection without erasing myself. The fact that my therapist didn't dispute this, but actually thanked me for clarifying it, was gold. It helped stop the terror. I'm not on solid ground yet, but I am much more regulated.
Yes, theBigBlue.
I relate to the anger you felt when told you're so strong (to have overdeveloped coping mechanisms to survive trauma that you didn't deserve).
I'm glad you felt heard by your therapist. I wish you didn't have to educate your therapist on this, but I am glad you felt heard and appreciated by them.
Your words are clear and coherent. I relate with your experiences.
Quote from: TheBigBlue on January 12, 2026, 02:28:57 PMwhat looked like "strength" was actually over-adaptation. Survival depended on hyper-functioning, vigilance, maintaining harmony, suppressing my own reality and needs to preserve connection – self-erasure through compliance, endurance, silence, and not burdening others. That came at the cost of authenticity, needs, and safety. There was no opportunity to develop an internal self that could hold safety.
This resonates deeply. It makes very good sense to me why indeed it bothers me so whenever people point out I'm 'strong'.
This reminds me of how it slightly bothers me when the "proper way" to discuss certain events is to discuss "resilience". Resilience feels as much as a corporate buzzword as anything to me now.
When a tragic and traumatizing event happens to a lot of people, I do not feel resilient. I feel tired. I feel positively victimized. I do relate to all that type of language. I am not coping well with big things that have happened to me or the little things.
I feel more a need to be affirmed that it's okay to fail, feel scared and tired, feel lost, and feel little. Anything else feels like impostor syndrome.
Quote from: lowbudgetTV on January 12, 2026, 04:27:36 PMI feel more a need to be affirmed that it's okay to fail, feel scared and tired, feel lost, and feel little. Anything else feels like impostor syndrome.
Yeah, I can't fake it anymore either.
:yeahthat:
Thank you for starting this thread.
I sometimes try to persuade myself that I am brave and strong. Objectively, from an outside perspective, I probably could be described as such. I remain in contact with FOO and regularly march back into the war zone to interact with them. (I mean, that could also be described as "utterly bonkers" but...). I've done a lot of "feel the fear and do it anyway". I've done a lot of "fake it till you make it". Blah blah.
I was really interested to read that your system reacts with anger when people praise your CPTSD adaptations. My experience is different, likely because I have been conditioned to seek praise (for without it I am nothing) and that I am not allowed to have anger. But I do very much notice when praise feels hollow. Someone the other day praised me for stopping alcohol altogether. I deserve no praise for that - I became unwell a couple of years back and one of the effects was that my body simply switched off any desire or tolerance for alcohol. End of. It's not an achievement, just a fact. It felt important that I made sure she understood the truth of the matter.
Your comment about harm being misnamed as virtue also resonates hugely. The more I think about it, the more I realise my FOO do little else but frame harm as virtue. Most things - possibly everything - that were ostensibly done for my benefit were at the very least nothing to do with my benefit and everything to do with theirs. And there was a shed load of stuff that was actively harmful.
It is hugely helpful to read your comments about internal safety. That it does not come from survival tactics. That it cannot simply be conjured up from within because we are strong (even if we are strong). A huge lightbulb moment came for me probably about a year ago now when I was discussing with my T my increasing dislike of going away on trips with my husband. I realised it is because I am slowly beginning to develop a sense of safety, at least in my own home. I never felt safe anywhere before, so whether I felt unsafe doing laundry at home or on a fancy cruise meant that I may as well be on the fancy cruise. I'm nowhere near having reliable internal safety such that I can feel safe with myself wherever I am. But I am learning how to self-soothe and notice triggers before they overwhelm me when I am home. That, of course, is massive progress for me personally but not yet in the overall scheme of life when my husband, quite reasonably, would like to do nice things for us both and I'm not entirely thrilled at his plans.
Thus far my T has been doing all the heavy lifting in terms of presence and co-regulation. She has been encouraging me to get my husband on board a little more than I currently allow. He is a safe person, and I know he is, but I am hugely avoidant and trust nobody, so this is a big ask and I have to go slowly. Your comments about needing a relationship to build internal safety are hugely helpful to me as I consider this. So, thank you.
And thank you to all the people on OOTS, too. Because there is so much care, empathy, understanding, co-regulation and love to be found here. Everyone who has stuck around has quite noticeably made progress, even if they don't always see it themselves. Given CPTSD progress is usually glacially slow that is not surprising.
Great posts everyone, I relate so much to this topic.
When someone talks about me being strong what pops into my head immediately is the urge to say "It is not "strength" per se, just fear and desperation." If anyone could see inside me they would see I am or was a crumbly mess, just doing my best to keep my head above the surface most of the time.
I also don't like to be congratulated on surviving trauma, again all I want to say is "What other choice did I really have?" Of course there are a few choices, none of them good.
LBTV I understand your aversion to the word "resilient" for similar reasons. When I hear/read it, it often comes across as something I should have, and if I don't have it then I have failed. I'm OK if an article or someone mentions learning resilience, that feels different. In that case it involves a strategy or strategies I can learn and then use to feel better, happier, less dysregulated, whatever. But possessing a measure of actual resilience from the get go, as a child of complex relational trauma not so much. It's one of those things that IMO is learned in healthy families at a young age alongside regulation, etc.