How to Heal by Naming Your Core Wounds (Abandonment, Betrayal, Rejection, Shame)

You can’t fight an enemy you refuse to name.

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Shadowboxing With Pain

For years I thought I was fighting anxiety, procrastination, burnout, people-pleasing, overthinking.

But those weren’t the enemies. They were symptoms. Shadows. And I was shadowboxing — exhausting myself against opponents that were never the real threat.

The truth? You can’t win a fight with an opponent you know nothing about.

If you don’t name your wound, you’ll spend years fighting smoke instead of the fire.

The Power of Naming the Wound

Naming your wound doesn’t make it bigger. It makes you bigger.

When you whisper “I was abandoned” instead of “I just have trust issues” — you stop minimizing the truth.

When you say “I was betrayed” instead of “I just can’t let things go” — you finally call the enemy by its name.

Healing doesn’t start with pretending it never happened. Healing starts the moment you face it directly and say:

“Yes, this is the wound. And I refuse to let it bleed me dry forever.”

The Core Wounds Most of Us Carry

Behind most patterns, addictions, and coping mechanisms, there are a handful of core wounds.

• Abandonment → “I’ll always be left, so I cling or I run.”

• Neglect → “My needs don’t matter.”

• Rejection → “I’ll never be chosen.”

• Betrayal → “I can’t trust anyone.”

• Shame → “I am unworthy as I am.”

Every other behavior — people-pleasing, perfectionism, self-sabotage — usually traces back to one of these.

“You’re not broken. You’re just fighting symptoms instead of the wound that birthed them.”

My Own Story of Naming the Wound

For decades, I told myself I was “too sensitive,” “too emotional,” or “just unlucky in relationships.”

But the truth was sharper: I had an abandonment wound.

It was planted early — when I lost the warmth of my mother as a child and found myself in a home where care was absent.

That wound gave birth to branches: people-pleasing, fear of rejection, chasing love where it was never safe.

I couldn’t begin to transform until I dared to call it what it was: abandonment.

And yes, it hurt to say it. But once I named it, the wound stopped controlling me from the shadows.

From Wound → Scar

Healing is not the erasure of pain. It’s when the wound becomes a scar.

A scar means: Yes, it happened. Yes, I was hurt. But it no longer bleeds every time I touch it.

Gentle healing helps you tend the wound. Radical healing demands you face it head-on, scream its name if you must, and claim your power back.

Try This: Journal Prompts to Call It By Its Name

From The Introspectionista Journal — here are three prompts to help you uncover your wound:

1. What painful patterns keep repeating in my life, no matter how much I try to change?

2. If I had to call the root of this pain by a single name — what would it be? (Abandonment, betrayal, rejection, shame, neglect…)

3. What happens in my body when I say this word out loud? Do I shrink? Or do I feel seen?

These questions can feel heavy, but they are the doorway to freedom.

Final Word

Darling, you can’t heal what you refuse to name.

Stop calling it “bad habits” or “just who I am.”Call it abandonment. Call it betrayal. Call it shame.

Call it by its name.

Because the moment you do, you stop fighting shadows. And you finally start fighting for yourself.

Ready to uncover your own wound of origin? Download my free The Introspectionista Journal today and begin naming the pain so you can transform it into power.

See you in the next post.

Liefs,

Eny