When Love Felt Cold: Healing from Distant Upbringing

In many African homes, emotions were never meant to be seen. You cried, and someone said, “Stop that nonsense before I give you something to cry for.” You asked questions and were told, “Children should be seen, not heard.” You got hurt, but instead of comfort, you got silence—or worse, mockery.

Most of our parents weren’t cruel; they were repeating what they learned. They grew up in survival mode, where emotional expression wasn’t a priority. Their parents loved them by feeding, schooling, and protecting them—but not by listening to their feelings. And so the cycle continued. We inherited emotional silence as a way of life, without ever realizing how much it cost us.

The Culture of “Be Strong”

In African families, strength is sacred. Children are praised for being tough, obedient, and disciplined. Crying or expressing sadness is quickly labeled as weakness. This mindset shaped generations of emotionally self-contained adults who can endure pain—but struggle to express it.

“Be strong” sounds noble, but when it’s used to silence pain, it becomes toxic. Many adults today confuse emotional numbness with maturity. They say, “I don’t like talking about my feelings,” not realizing it’s a symptom of emotional suppression, not strength.

How Emotional Suppression Starts

Children learn emotional behavior from what’s modeled around them, not what’s said. When a child expresses sadness and is met with dismissal, the brain learns that emotion equals danger. So they adapt. They stop showing fear, anger, or grief. They become the “good child,” the one who doesn’t cause trouble.

Over time, this child grows into an adult who:

Avoids confrontation even when hurt.
Struggles to express affection or vulnerability.
Feels uncomfortable around emotional people.
Bottles up pain until it explodes.

It’s not that these adults lack emotion—they’ve just learned to bury it so deep that even they can’t always find it.

When Love Is Conditional

Many African parents equate discipline with love. They believe they’re shaping strong adults by being tough. But conditional love—where affection is only given when you perform well—creates emotional insecurity.

A child who is loved only when they succeed learns that worth is earned, not inherent. They grow up seeking validation through achievements, relationships, or perfectionism. The result? Adults who are always doing, but rarely just being.

This cycle quietly breeds anxiety, self-doubt, and imposter syndrome. You feel unworthy of love unless you’re constantly proving yourself.

Why Our Parents Were This Way

Before blaming our parents, it’s important to understand their context. Many grew up in difficult social and economic conditions—colonial trauma, political instability, poverty, or patriarchal systems that didn’t allow emotional softness.

For them, survival was the priority. Emotional conversations seemed like a luxury. They didn’t have therapy, mental health awareness, or vocabulary for feelings. They expressed love through sacrifice and service: school fees, food on the table, a roof over their head.

They taught silence not because they didn’t care, but because they didn’t know another way. Recognizing that helps us forgive—but not repeat—the pattern.

The Emotional Cost of Silence

Growing up emotionally unseen leaves deep marks. You learn to suppress emotions until they leak out as anger, withdrawal, or overthinking. You struggle to trust people with your vulnerability. Relationships feel unsafe because expressing needs feels “wrong.”

This emotional suppression can manifest as:

Anxiety: Constantly fearing rejection or disapproval.
Depression: A quiet sadness you can’t explain.
Emotional detachment: Feeling numb even in happy moments.
Over-responsibility: Taking care of everyone else but never yourself.

Many adults raised in silence become parents themselves and unintentionally pass on the same emotional distance, telling their children, “Stop crying, be strong.” And the silence continues.

Breaking the Cycle

Healing doesn’t mean rejecting your culture—it means evolving it. Strength and softness can coexist. You can honor your heritage and still raise emotionally aware children.

Here’s where healing begins:

Acknowledge what you missed. Admit that you needed emotional validation and didn’t get it. That’s not ingratitude; it’s truth.
Learn to name emotions. Use simple words: “I feel sad,” “I feel angry,” “I feel lonely.” Naming emotions is the first step to managing them.
Seek therapy or support groups. You don’t heal what you refuse to feel. Therapy offers language and structure for unpacking emotional wounds.
Communicate differently. With your own children, siblings, or spouse—listen without judgment, and respond with empathy instead of correction.
Practice self-compassion. You’re not broken. You’re learning emotional skills your parents never had the chance to learn. That takes courage.

Raising a New Generation of Emotionally Healthy Children

Healing is not just about you—it’s about what you pass on. Imagine a generation where children grow up being asked, “How do you feel?” instead of being told, “Stop crying.” Where a boy can express sadness without being called weak, and a girl can speak up without being called disrespectful.

That shift begins in homes like yours. You can teach emotional intelligence through simple habits: asking questions, validating feelings, apologizing when you’re wrong. Every gentle response rewires what harshness once taught.

This is how cultural evolution happens—not through rejection, but through redefinition.

Conclusion: Finding Your Voice After Generations of Silence

If you grew up in a home where emotions were dismissed, understand this: silence was your shield, not your identity. It protected you when speaking wasn’t safe. But now, as an adult, you have permission to outgrow it.

Healing from emotional suppression is a slow, brave act. It means allowing yourself to feel again—to cry without shame, to express anger without fear, to love without apology. You are not weak for wanting emotional connection; you are human.

Our parents taught us strength through silence. Let’s teach our children strength through truth. Because emotional honesty doesn’t weaken a culture—it makes it whole.