3 Ways That Childhood Dynamics Impact Relationships in Adulthood and How EMDR Can Help
In my work, I see every day how the wounds of childhood echo into adulthood. My approach is attachment oriented, and that means that one’s earliest experiences in childhood, in infancy and childhood, really form a template for how that person attaches later in life. Those early imprints shape how we bond, how we react in moments of conflict, and how safe or unsafe love feels.
In this article, we’ll explore how unresolved childhood trauma influences adult relationships. We’ll look at the role of attachment styles, how trauma bonding can keep people stuck in painful dynamics, and why emotional reactivity in relationships is often a signal of much earlier wounds. I’ll also share how approaches like EMDR can help untangle these patterns and create space for more secure, compassionate connection.
How Attachment Styles are Formed Early On
Attachment theory suggests that the ways we learn to connect with caregivers as children become internal blueprints for how we connect with others as adults. When a caregiver is consistently responsive- soothing, attentive, and emotionally available – the child usually develops a secure attachment. They learn that relationships are safe and that needs will be met.
But when care is inconsistent or overwhelming, different attachment styles emerge. Some children adapt by becoming anxious: they cling, protest, or grow hyper-alert to any signs of abandonment because love feels uncertain. Others adapt by becoming avoidant: they shut down, withdraw, or rely only on themselves because closeness feels risky. Still others fall into a disorganized pattern, caught between reaching for connection and fearing it at the same time.
The different attachment styles we learn in childhood tend to influence how we connect in our adult relationships. And when we combine two different people with different upbringings, the dynamics can be completely unique in almost every relationship.
For example, I once worked with a young pair where the girlfriend longed for closeness and reassurance, while the boyfriend seemed to retreat whenever emotions got intense. She described her attachment style as clinging while his was avoidant – always wanting to run when a serious conversation needed to happen.
This dynamic is a textbook example of how anxious and avoidant attachment styles can collide: one partner grasps for security, while the other pulls away in order to feel safe.
We often keep recreating what happened in our own childhood and bringing it into our present relationships. We reenact the same patterns, and until we become conscious of them, take a deep look into why they exist, and seek to understand them, we will continue to encounter similar problems in different relationships.
So, what feels like a “relationship problem” in the present is often a reflection of early imprints being replayed. In my sessions, I help people notice these dynamics, understand where they come from, and gradually practice new ways of relating that allow for greater safety and connection.
How Trauma Can Create Unhealthy Feelings of What Love Is
I often see how people mistake intensity for intimacy. When a child grows up in an environment where love is tied up with fear, neglect, or unpredictability, they may learn that relationships are supposed to be unstable or painful. This is what we call trauma bonding: the nervous system becomes wired to associate closeness with conflict, abandonment, or volatility. As adults, this can show up as staying in relationships that hurt, because the chaos feels strangely familiar.
Secure love is different. It grows out of experiences where care was consistent, needs were met, and emotions were allowed. In secure relationships, partners can disagree or face stress without threatening the bond. Love feels steady rather than explosive, safe rather than consuming.
Part of my work is helping clients begin to notice the difference. Through EMDR and attachment-focused therapy, those old survival bonds start to loosen. The memories remain, but the emotional charge that once pulled someone back into the same painful dynamics fades. In that space, people can begin to choose relationships that feel safe, supportive, and truly loving.
How Unresolved Trauma Impacts How We React
Emotional reactivity happens when present-day situations trigger outsized responses that are really rooted in past wounds. A partner coming home late, forgetting a small detail, or withdrawing in an argument can ignite feelings of abandonment, rejection, or fear that are disproportionate to the moment.
This is because the nervous system is not only reacting to the partner in front of us, but also to unresolved experiences from childhood where needs were not met.
In therapy, I often help people make these connections. A present-day conflict becomes a window into earlier memories where similar emotions first formed. Through EMDR, we work on reducing the intensity of those memories so they no longer hijack the present. Clients often notice that situations which once felt overwhelming become more manageable, allowing them to stay grounded rather than spiral into fight, flight, or freeze.
How I Use EMDR to Reprocess Your Trauma
In EMDR, we reprocess our experiences by talking about our trauma. Part of the EMDR protocol is to take a history, especially of the painful negative experiences that continue to echo into the present. I often ask clients to identify the worst, most painful memory, because that single memory is often connected to many others. By working through it, we begin to loosen the whole network of stored experiences.
During reprocessing, I ask questions like, What did that little child need at the time? We do this to return to the moment when the nervous system encoded a belief such as I am unlovable or I am unsafe. A child doesn’t have the resources to question those beliefs or to recognize that the failure belonged to the parent, not to them. By asking what the child needed, we can introduce a new experience of what they needed in that moment. Instead of a harsh voice, maybe they needed a soft voice, or if they felt fear they needed to be consoled or held.
This process allows clients to access a new narrative. Instead of carrying the burden of something being wrong with them, they begin to recognize their parents were unable to give them what they needed – while still learning to accept that they were still worthy.
Over time, the emotional intensity of those memories changes. Clients report that situations which once brought overwhelming pain feel lighter, less charged, even neutral. At that point, the memory still exists, but it no longer dictates how they see themselves or how they respond in relationships.
What Happens After EMDR
One of the most powerful shifts that clients experience through EMDR is the emergence of self-compassion. Many clients tell me that, maybe for the first time, they can look at themselves with kindness instead of blame. They begin to relate to themselves the way a good parent would, such as being able to offer comfort when they make mistakes, rather than harsh judgment.
Another change is how people think about trust. Rather than focusing only on whether others can be trusted, clients start to recognize that trust is really about believing in their own ability to handle whatever life brings. This shift gives them more confidence and resilience in their relationships. At the core of all this work, the goal is that clients experience a deep sense of self-love and true self-acceptance.
I also see clients become more integrated in their sense of self. When trauma blocks development, people can get stuck in earlier stages of growth. Processing those wounds allows them to move through milestones they may have missed, creating a stronger foundation for adulthood. With this integration often comes less emotional reactivity, clearer boundaries, and more freedom in choosing how to relate to others.
For some, the transformation is profound. I’ve worked with people who, after EMDR, could finally imagine themselves as nurturing partners or parents. One client put it simply: I never would have thought of myself as being a good parent until now.
Remembering That Your Pain Counts
People often minimize their pain, comparing it to others’ suffering. I always remind them: If it was traumatic to you that is all that matters.
Healing is not about comparison. It is about honoring your own story, bringing compassion to the parts that hurt, and creating space for new ways of relating to yourself and others.