One of the greatest tragedies of violence isn’t what it does to the person who is attacked.
It’s what it does to the children who have to grow up around it.
Children don’t need to be the direct victim of violence to be deeply affected by it. Simply witnessing violence, living in a home where fear exists, or growing up with adults who deny reality can change the way a child’s brain develops.
The CDC considers witnessing violence in the home to be an Adverse Childhood Experience (ACE). ACEs are linked to higher rates of depression, anxiety, substance misuse, chronic disease, relationship problems, and even a shorter life expectancy. Three out of four U.S. high school students report experiencing at least one ACE, and one in five report experiencing four or more. (CDC)
One of the most heartbreaking realities is that children often don’t understand what they’re experiencing. They simply know that something feels wrong.
They hear arguments.
They sense fear.
They notice adults changing the story.
They begin questioning their own memories.
When an adult refuses to take responsibility for violence, the damage doesn’t stop with the victim. It often spreads to the children.
Imagine trying to build your identity while being told that what you saw didn’t happen.
Imagine loving a parent while slowly realizing that the story you’ve believed your entire life doesn’t match reality.
That creates enormous internal conflict.
Research has found that children who witness domestic violence are far more likely to experience multiple other forms of childhood trauma as well. As the frequency of witnessing violence increases, so does the likelihood of depression, substance abuse, and other long-term health consequences later in life. (PubMed)
This is why accountability matters.
Not because punishment changes the past.
Because truth allows healing.
Children don’t need perfect parents.
They need honest ones.
An apology doesn’t erase trauma.
But refusing to acknowledge harm often traps children in confusion for years, sometimes decades.
Therapy can help someone untangle those knots, but therapy cannot rewrite history. Eventually, many children begin asking hard questions. They compare stories. They notice inconsistencies. They become adults capable of seeing what they couldn’t see as children.
The truth has a way of surfacing.
I think about that often.
As someone who has lived with chronic pain for more than a decade because of one act of violence, I understand that healing isn’t linear. My body still reminds me of that day.
But emotional pain leaves scars too.
I’ve learned that survivors aren’t the only ones rebuilding their lives after violence.
The children who grew up around it are rebuilding too.
Some carry invisible wounds.
Some struggle to trust themselves.
Some become people-pleasers because keeping the peace once felt like survival.
Others become fiercely independent because depending on adults once felt unsafe.
None of those responses mean they’re broken.
They mean they adapted.
And the beautiful thing about the human brain is that it can continue healing long after childhood ends.
That healing almost always begins with the same thing:
The truth.
Not revenge.
Not blame.
Not rewriting history.
Just the courage to say, “This happened.”
Because the truth doesn’t destroy families.
Violence does.
Lies keep the violence alive long after the physical wounds have healed.
All she had to do was say I did that. I am sorry. How can I make it up to you?
But no she holds on to a non-truth while her kids have carried this trauma she created into their adult worlds and still stuff in because stuffing it in is what they were taught.
Strangled In La Jolla 