If Your Family Never Talked About Feelings, Here’s How Therapy Can Help

When “we don’t talk about feelings” was normal

Maybe you grew up in a home where no one said “I’m sad” or “I’m scared.”

You were told to be strong, to focus on school, to help the family and keep going.

Arguments were followed by silence, as opposed to repair.

Love was shown as food on the table, school fees paid, or a parent working two jobs, not as “How are you really doing?”

If this sounds familiar, there is nothing wrong with you for finding feelings hard now.

For many people from the Global South, BIPOC communities and diasporas, not talking about emotions was a survival strategy in families who were dealing with migration, racism, financial stress or conflict.

Why some families don’t talk about feelings

There are many reasons your family might have avoided emotional conversations:

Protection and survival: When money, visas or safety felt fragile, “just coping” took priority over processing feelings.

Cultural values: In many communities, keeping problems private, staying respectful and “not making a scene” are seen as signs of strength and loyalty.

Generational trauma: Parents or grandparents who lived through war, displacement or discrimination often had no safe space for their own emotions, so they passed on silence, not because they didn’t care, but because that was all they knew.

Stigma around mental health: Talking about anxiety, depression or trauma may have been labelled “madness,” “weakness” or “Western.”

Understanding this context does not mean ignoring the impact those patterns had on you.

It simply means you can hold compassion for younger you and for the people who raised you, while also choosing something different now.

How growing up like this can affect you now

If your family never talked about feelings, you might notice:

Struggling to name what you feel: Everything becomes “fine,” “tired,” “stressed” or “angry,” even when a lot more is going on inside.

Feeling guilty or “dramatic.”: Any time you cry, set a boundary or ask for help, a voice in your head says, “You’re overreacting” or “Other people have it worse.”

Avoiding conflict at all costs: You swallow what bothers you to keep the peace, then sometimes explode after holding things in for too long.

Being the “strong one.”: Friends and family come to you with their problems, but you rarely share your own. You might be the eldest daughter, the migrant child managing documents, or the one sending money home.

Numbness: When something painful happens, you switch into practical mode and only feel it months later, or not at all.

This means your nervous system and relationships adapted to an environment where speaking openly about emotions didn’t feel safe or useful.

What therapy can look like when feelings are new

If you’re used to silence, the idea of sitting with a therapist and “talking about your feelings” can sound like torture.

Therapy does not have to look like you fear.

A good therapist, especially one who understands Global South and diaspora cultures, will usually:

Go slowly: They might start with what’s happening in your life right now, rather than jumping straight into childhood trauma.

Help you find words: Instead of asking, “How did that make you feel?” they might ask, “What was happening in your body?” or offer emotion words you can choose from.

Respect your boundaries: You can say, “I’m not ready to talk about that yet,” and a competent therapist will work with that.

Use your language and metaphors: Talking in your own language can make it easier to describe complex experiences that don’t always translate into English.

Normalise your reactions: Instead of judging you for avoiding conflict or staying “strong,” they help you see how those strategies once kept you safe, and explore new options for now.

Early sessions might feel awkward or even disappointing.

It takes time to trust that you won’t be punished, shamed or ignored for saying what you really feel.

Small steps you can start today

Even before or alongside therapy, you can slowly build your “emotional muscles”:

Name one feeling a day: At the end of the day, ask yourself, “If I had to pick one emotion word for today, what would it be?” You can use words from any language that feels natural.

Check your body first: Notice things like tight shoulders, heavy chest, knot in your stomach, lump in your throat. Then gently ask, “What might this be trying to tell me?”

Use “I” sentences in low‑stakes situations: For example: “I felt hurt when…” or “I felt anxious about…”, with someone you trust. This practices saying what you feel without needing a perfect speech.

Write it down: If speaking is hard, write a few lines in a notebook or your phone about something that happened and how it affected you. You don’t have to show anyone.

Notice your self‑talk: When you catch yourself saying, “I’m being too sensitive,” try gently replacing it with, “My feelings make sense given what I’ve lived through.”

These are small, easy repeatable actions, rather than a test you can fail.

Over time, they make it easier to bring real experiences into the therapy room, and in your life in general.

Why culturally aware therapy makes a difference

If you grew up between worlds, you may worry that a therapist will not understand:

• Why you still live with your parents.

• Why you don’t want to “cut off” family even when they hurt you.

• How racism, visas, colourism, class or religion shape your stress.

A culturally aware therapist will:

• Ask about your family, migration and faith stories without assuming they are all bad, or all good.

• Help you hold loyalty and boundaries together, instead of choosing one or the other.

• Understand that speaking in your own language can unlock memories and emotions that never show up in English.

For people from the Global South, BIPOC communities and TCK backgrounds, this kind of care can make therapy feel less like “betraying your culture” and more like honouring yourself and your people at the same time.

Taking the next step

If you grew up in a “we don’t talk about feelings” family, learning to speak honestly about what is happening inside you is a big, brave shift.

You’re allowed to move at your own pace, choose support that understands your context, and keep the parts of your culture and family you love.

At Thera, we connect people from the Global South, BIPOC communities and TCK / diaspora backgrounds with licensed, culturally aware therapists who understand what it means to live between worlds and who can work with you in 15+ languages, online or in person (depending on the location). 

If you recognise yourself in this article and are curious about what therapy could look like for you, you can browse our therapists and counsellors here to see which therapists might be a good fit, or contact us via email or WhatsApp to help match you with a therapist that fits your needs, language, background and approach.