Comparison and the Question of Legitimacy
Something that comes up repeatedly in my work with women who experienced neglect or abuse in childhood is comparison. A woman may describe experiences that involved emotional manipulation, sexual boundary violations, chronic unpredictability or subtle but persistent invalidation, and then add, almost automatically, “But other people had it worse.” The statement seems to function as a qualifier, as if distress requires a certain level of severity before it can be taken seriously.
On a factual level, comparison is not irrational. There are always stories that appear more dramatic or extreme. However, the usefulness of that comparison is questionable. The existence of more overt or catastrophic experiences elsewhere does not explain why a particular individual continues to feel anxious, guilty, hypervigilant or unsure of herself years later. If something from earlier experiences still influences how you relate to yourself or others today, then it deserves careful attention. That does not necessarily mean analysing every detail of the past. It means understanding how those earlier experiences may still be active in the present.
The difficulty is that comparison can become a way of dismissing one’s own experience before it is fully examined. Instead of asking how early experiences continue to influence present relationships and self-perception, the focus moves away from you. The implicit assumption is that distress must reach a certain threshold before it becomes legitimate. In reality, psychological impact does not operate according to a universal scale.
How Early Environments Teach Us to Look Outward
Research in attachment theory (Bowlby, 1969; Ainsworth et al., 1978) suggests that children adapt their behaviour in response to the emotional climate of their caregivers to preserve connection and safety. When caregiving is consistent and responsive, a child generally develops a sense of internal stability. When caregiving is inconsistent, intrusive, frightening or emotionally unavailable, the child must organise herself differently to maintain connection and safety.
These adaptations are not dramatic in the moment. They are often gradual and deeply embedded. A child may learn to monitor moods. She may learn to minimise her own needs in order to avoid criticism or withdrawal. She may become highly self-reliant or feel responsible for managing the emotional atmosphere in the room. Over time, these responses can become automatic.
In many cases, these qualities are later described as strengths: perceptive, independent, accommodating, thoughtful. And they can be strengths. However, when they originate in environments where vigilance was necessary, they often come at a cost. Chronic outward focus can make it difficult to develop a stable sense of self or to trust one’s own perceptions without seeking confirmation from others.
In that context, the sentence “Other people had it worse” can be understood as part of a broader pattern. It keeps attention directed away from the self. It avoids the discomfort of acknowledging personal impact. It maintains loyalty. It reduces internal conflict.
Guilt, Loyalty and the Fear of Blame
Guilt often appears alongside comparison. Many women I work with are thoughtful and empathetic. They are able to recognise that their parents may have struggled with their own mental health, trauma, financial pressures or lack of support. They can see the context clearly. Sometimes they can see it more clearly than they can see their own experience.
Acknowledging that someone’s behaviour affected you can feel like an accusation, even when no accusation is intended. It can feel disloyal or unfair. This is particularly true in families where responsibility was blurred and children were expected to be understanding beyond their years.
It is important to say clearly that therapy is not about placing parents on trial. Parents are human beings with histories and limitations. In many situations, they were doing the best they could within their circumstances. At the same time, children are affected by what they experience, regardless of intention. A parent can have had reasons for their behaviour, and that behaviour can still have left an imprint. Recognising impact does not require condemnation.
Trauma Is Not Measured by Drama
Public discussions of trauma often focus on extreme events: violence, accidents, catastrophic loss. Those experiences are unquestionably traumatic. However, psychological research over the past two decades has also highlighted the significance of chronic relational stress (Herman, 1992; van der Kolk, 2005). Emotional neglect, ongoing criticism, exposure to unpredictable anger, subtle coercion, or being made responsible for adult emotions may not appear dramatic from the outside, but they can have lasting effects.
The nervous system responds to repeated experiences of threat, shame or unpredictability. Large-scale research into adverse childhood experiences has found associations between early relational stress and later mental and physical health outcomes (Felitti et al., 1998). Studies in developmental trauma and neurobiology suggest that long-term relational stress can influence how the stress-response system develops (Schore, 2001), which may contribute to later difficulties with emotional regulation, attention and trust in relationships. These changes are not dependent on how sensational a story sounds. They are related to how often and how intensely a child felt unsafe or alone.
This perspective changes the focus away from ranking events. Instead of asking whether something was severe enough, it becomes more helpful to consider how it has influenced present functioning. Do you find it difficult to set boundaries? Do you apologise quickly, even when you have done nothing wrong? Do you doubt your own memory or perception? Do you feel responsible for other people’s emotional states? These patterns often make more sense when viewed in light of earlier experiences.
Working in the Present
In my practice, the focus is not on forcing someone to revisit every aspect of the past before they are ready. Safety and stability are essential. Without that foundation, exploring the past can feel overwhelming or even re-traumatising. In many cases, the most effective starting point is the present: how you relate to others now, how you respond to stress, how you speak to yourself internally.
Understanding that earlier experiences may still be influencing these patterns does not require reliving them in detail. It involves recognising connections gradually and at a pace that feels manageable. Sometimes it is enough to notice that a particular reaction feels disproportionately strong and to explore where that sensitivity might have originated. At other times, memories may come up naturally once sufficient safety has been established.
The aim is not to prove that something was “bad enough.” The aim is to understand yourself more clearly.
From Comparison to Self-Understanding
When the urge to compare becomes less automatic, it often becomes easier to recognise recurring themes. Chronic guilt may be understood in the context of early responsibility. Difficulty receiving care may be connected to past experiences of having needs dismissed. Hyper-independence may be linked to an environment where relying on others was unreliable or unsafe.
This process does not require dramatic reinterpretation of the past. It requires curiosity and patience. It also requires permission to take your own experience seriously without measuring it against someone else’s.
You do not need to win a competition of suffering in order to deserve support. Distress is not validated by comparison. If certain patterns continue to cause difficulty in your life, they are worth understanding. Therapy offers a space to examine those patterns carefully and without judgement.
If the thought “Other people had it worse” comes up quickly when you think about your childhood, it may be useful to pause and consider what that thought protects. Does it prevent conflict? Does it reduce guilt? Does it avoid uncertainty? These questions are not accusations; they are invitations to greater awareness.
Bringing attention back to your own experience, without pressure, is often where meaningful change begins.
Further Reading
For readers who would like to explore some of these ideas in more depth:
- Bowlby, J. (1969). Attachment and Loss.
- Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of Attachment.
- Herman, J. (1992). Trauma and Recovery.
- van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score.
- Felitti, V. J., et al. (1998). Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to leading causes of death in adults. American Journal of Preventive Medicine.
- Schore, A. (2001). Effects of early relational trauma on right brain development.
