The Wounds of Rejection and Abandonment: Why Belonging Feels Fragile - Part 1
We all got hurt early — and to survive it, we built a kind of mask: a way of behaving that protected us then, but that often still runs the show now, in how we work, love, and hold ourselves back. This series is based on the work of Lise Bourbeau, who identified five wounds most of us carry to different degrees: rejection, abandonment, humiliation, betrayal, and injustice. This first part looks at the two that tend to form earliest — rejection and abandonment.
If you haven't already, take the Core Wounds quiz here — it takes about five minutes and asks what you actually do, not who you think you are, which tends to surface the pattern more honestly.
A note before we go further: this isn't a diagnosis, and Bourbeau's parent associations below describe a common pattern, not a rule about your specific family. Take what's useful and leave the rest.
The Wound of Rejection
What it is: a deep, often wordless sense of not belonging — of being fundamentally not okay as you are, rather than simply disliked for something you did.
Where it usually comes from: Bourbeau associates this wound with the same-sex parent, often forming very early — sometimes in infancy or even felt in the womb — around a sense of not being wanted, or not being wanted as you were. The protective mask that forms is what she calls the fleeing type: a tendency to withdraw, both physically and emotionally, rather than risk further rejection.
How it shows up:
Avoiding situations where you might be judged, excluded, or seen too closely
Making yourself small, quiet, or "easy" so you're less likely to be a target
A felt sense of not being at home anywhere — including sometimes in your own body
Leaving a room, a conversation, or a relationship at the first sign of real conflict
Difficulty believing you're wanted, even when people are actively showing you that you are
Worth knowing: like every pattern in this series, this one moves. People who do real work with a rejection wound often find the urge to flee softens years before it disappears completely — it's rarely an overnight shift. If it's been a while, it's worth retaking the quiz to see where you actually stand now.
A practice to try: next time you feel the pull to leave, go quiet, or disappear, name it silently — "I want to flee right now" — and stay one breath longer than you normally would before deciding what to do.
The Wound of Abandonment
What it is: a fear of being left, of not having enough support, or of having to face things alone that you shouldn't have to face alone.
Where it usually comes from: Bourbeau associates this one with the opposite-sex parent, often around a period of real or felt emotional absence in childhood — not necessarily physical abandonment, sometimes simply a parent who was present but emotionally unavailable. The mask that forms is the dependent type: a strong pull toward company, attention, and reassurance.
How it shows up:
Real difficulty being alone, or seeking almost constant company or contact
Overdramatizing situations, consciously or not, to draw attention and support
A pattern of choosing emotionally unavailable partners, which can end up recreating the original wound
Feeling — or being told — that you're "too much" emotionally
A strong reaction to someone being late, unreachable, or distracted
Worth knowing: this wound tends to respond well to small, repeated proof that solitude is survivable — not as punishment, but as practice. Many people find this one softens noticeably once they've built a genuinely steady relationship or two, romantic or otherwise.
A practice to try: build in small, deliberate stretches of solitude this week — twenty minutes, unscheduled and unfilled — and simply notice what actually happens in your body, rather than what you expect will happen.
Where to Go From Here
Both of these wounds tend to respond well to inner-child-focused work — approaches that go directly to the younger part of you still carrying the original hurt, rather than only addressing the adult behavior on top of it. Somatic therapy and family-of-origin work are two established paths, especially where the pattern feels stuck rather than simply understood.
Ritshi Zenati, Speaker & Life Coach
Founder at Holistika Center.
Sources Bourbeau, L. — Heal Your Wounds and Find Your True Self (2000). Bourbeau's model draws on the five character structures of bioenergetic analysis, a body-psychotherapy lineage running from Wilhelm Reich through Alexander Lowen and John Pierrakos.
Further reading
Heal Your Wounds and Find Your True Self — Lise Bourbeau
Homecoming: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child — John Bradshaw
These wounds often shape how we show up in relationships long before we notice the connection. Our Attachment Style quiz looks at that relational pattern directly.
If you're ready to work with what you've found here more directly, Holistika's microdosing program and life & spiritual guidance coaching are two different doors into that deeper work.
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