How Childhood Trauma Affects Adulthood: The Most Important Thing You Can’t Remember

No One Teaches This: The Most Important Thing You Can’t Remember

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You don’t remember the most important thing about yourself.

And I’m not talking about your first kiss, where you grew up, or who your best friend is.

That stuff is kind of important and is a part of you, but it’s not what makes you who you are. Those are the things you’ve done.

I’m talking about the things that happened to you that you can’t remember, because your mind decided you couldn’t handle them.

So those things got buried so deep that you don’t even know they’re missing.

Here’s the part no one teaches you, and this is the most important part: just because you’ve blocked out the memory doesn’t mean you’re immune to its influence.

The stuff you can’t remember?

That’s what’s been in the driver’s seat the entire time, ghost riding your life and steering you into the same problems dressed in different clothing each time.

What Is Dissociative Amnesia?

People have an amazing psychological capacity to repress or block out those painful events, and children are especially adept at this.

This phenomenon is known as dissociative amnesia, and it serves as a coping mechanism to shield a person from emotional pain or trauma.

Dissociative amnesia is recognized in the DSM-5 as a disorder involving an inability to recall important autobiographical information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature—and children are especially good at this (APA, DSM-5-TR).

Think of children like fine china that you hold onto for twenty years.

Over those twenty years, you’re going to chip or crack it a few times. Good parents aim to avoid shattering the china completely — because once it shatters, the shards become dangerous for everyone nearby.

When you grow up in a dysfunctional environment — and let’s be honest, I’m talking about the kind of childhood a lot of us had — you collect more chips and cracks than most. Sometimes you get shattered.

But unlike china, you have to keep living.

And your mind — your brilliant, self-protective mind — finds a way. It locks away the worst of it.

Research suggests that severe childhood stress can alter how memories are encoded, stored, and retrieved, particularly during critical stages of development (Valentino, Toth, & Cicchetti, 2009).

Your mind buries it so deep that you can get on living without being in a constant state of reactive, hypervigilant PTSD.

To give you an idea of how powerful your mind can be at protecting you from things you can’t handle, I have to tell you two stories from my childhood.

Can Childhood Trauma Cause Memory Loss?

When I was two years old, I was attacked by two Doberman pinschers.

While my mom was pregnant with my sister, we were on our way to my aunt’s house in the East Hills housing projects in Pittsburgh, and the dogs—which my mom later found out were being trained for dogfights—broke free and pounced on us without hesitation.

The dogs would have ripped me to shreds if my mom had not thrown herself on top of me to prevent the dogs from biting me any further. She suffered multiple bites that left hideous scars on her legs.

I escaped with only one bite and a debilitating fear of dogs that lasted until I got to high school. It didn’t matter how small, cute, or fluffy the dog was; I wanted nothing to do with them and would do everything I could to avoid being anywhere near them.

Now I know this incident happened because my mom and I had the scars to prove it, but I don’t remember being bitten—and based on the scar I had on my right arm, it looked like it was quite painful.

I remember the location, but when I try to remember how afraid I was or how painful those bites were, I draw a blank. However, it would take 15 years before I stopped feeling my heart race whenever I saw so much as a golden retriever puppy.

Why Can’t I Remember Parts Of My Childhood?

A year later, I watched a kid I used to play with get run over and killed as gang members led the police on a high-speed chase through my hood on a hot summer day.

I was 3 years old and, even now—after almost four decades—I still remember him crossing the street for the Good Time Charlie ice cream truck and this brown car laying him out. His name was Hank, and he was my first friend.

The only thing that saved me from the same fate was that I listened to my mom and never crossed the street without an adult. Or maybe I just got lucky.

An image that haunted me for years was his lifeless body on the hot pavement with blood pouring out of his head and his eyes wide open. I also remember running into one of the project buildings and hiding under the steps, crying, until someone found me. I can actually feel myself getting tense as I recall this story. The memory is that vivid.

And that is interesting because, according to my mother, I did not remember this for almost 10 years. And then one day, I casually started talking to her about it and asking for more details.

Now, I don’t know if I actually blocked it out or if it was so traumatizing that I didn’t talk about it, but I’m still triggered by that memory, and every time my son goes to cross the street, I feel my chest tighten, and I squeeze his hand a little tighter.

But let’s assume, for a moment, that I actually did block it out.

Now, I can’t remember not remembering something.

But I know that while I can’t remember the physical pain of the dog bites that left me scarred or the terror of being trapped beneath my mom, I can remember everything about the event, down to the path we were walking and the interaction with the paramedics afterward.

So it’s not a stretch to believe that I blocked out an arguably more traumatic event—watching a child lose his life in a violent manner—from my memory.

Given all of the horrific abuses and traumas from my childhood that I *can* easily recall, I’ve always been haunted by this one question:

What other, much worse events have I experienced or gone through that I have blocked out but are still having an effect on me today?

The Hidden Effects Of Childhood Trauma In Adults

It is worth noting that forgetting parts of childhood does not necessarily mean a person has repressed traumatic memories; memory is naturally incomplete and reconstructive (Loftus, 2003).

I have memories of my mom accusing my dad’s new girlfriend of abusing me, but I can’t remember any of it.

For a while, I thought that was strange—because if I can remember physical abuse from a guy my mom was dating when I was 4 or 5, I figured I’d remember something like that. Then I learned about dissociative amnesia and the book “The Body Keeps Score.”

I was initially fascinated by the book and was all set to read it until a friend of mine told me that his wife read it and began to recall years of horrific sexual abuse as a child at the hands of a relative—and this was confirmed by other relatives and in an investigation that eventually landed the sick perpetrator in prison, but eviscerated my friend’s family.

That terrified me because, again, if I can remember the horrible things that happened in my life, how bad are the things I can’t remember? And you’re telling me that there are regressive techniques that can recall that stuff?

Well, I still haven’t read the book—I have no idea if I ever will—but I know there are many ways to stare into the abyss.

Writing my book was how I processed a lot of things—you can read two free chapters at the link in the description. Even if your book is never published, writing helps you process many of your feelings about the past, see things, and make connections.

Hell, you don’t even have to write a whole book complete with a narrative. I have one friend who has been keeping a literal diary since he was like 20. I don’t know if it’s done him any good, but I’ve always admired it.

I don’t fully trust a lot of what people are saying about the use of MDMA and psilocybin, a.k.a. Shrooms, but someone I trust told me they tried it specifically to make a breakthrough on past traumas, and they had a breakthrough.

The memories are buried for a reason, and you probably don’t want to unearth them, but you need a way to deal with the nagging feeling that something might be off with your past—especially if you have trouble with relationships in the present.

Large-scale research has found that adverse childhood experiences are associated with increased risks of depression, substance abuse, relationship difficulties, and numerous physical health problems later in life (Felitti et al., 1998).

How Trauma Changes The Brain

Your mind is powerful. Based on everything we know about the placebo and nocebo effect, it’s more powerful than you can even imagine. It may be limitless, for all we know, at least in its ability to influence your body and feelings.

As it relates to your feelings, consider this for a moment. Your mind is so beautifully designed that your prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain responsible for planning and executive function—and your amygdala—the part of your brain responsible for “fight or flight”—have an inverse relationship with one another (Shin & Liberzon, 2009).

People are fairly aware of this, but usually in the wrong context. We all know that you do and say stupid reactive stuff when you aren’t thinking. Many people have ruined their lives speaking out in fear or frustration when just taking a breath would have saved their jobs, relationships, or even their lives.

But on the flip side, you can literally think yourself through fear. Research shows that higher-order brain regions in the prefrontal cortex can help regulate emotional responses generated by the amygdala (Arnsten, 2009).

“Think happy thoughts” is more than just a cliché for when you’re having a bad day. It can change your mood and the corresponding physiology.

That’s good for when you’re going through something in the moment, but what about wrestling with emotional demons from the past?

What Is Hypnosis And How Does It Work?

I recently went through a process that took me face to face with what I’d been avoiding. It was a form of guided meditation.

I’d actually done a process like this 14 years ago in Los Angeles at a “Mastery in Transformational Training” seminar a boxing buddy of mine recommended I try. The difference between what I did then and now is that then—and I know a few of you are going to clown on me—it was $700, and it was a group session.

It was actually surprisingly effective then. This time, it was free and one-on-one.

However you might feel about guided meditation or, as it was presented to me, “hypnosis” is between you and preconceptions. I am not telling you it’s based on hard science nor am I telling you to do it.

If you’ve ever wanted to try hypnosis out, or there is a mental or emotional block you desperately need to get past, try out a free session with the hypnotist I worked with, who motivated the writing of this article.

Learn more and sign up here.

My Experience With Guided Visualization And Childhood Trauma

If you’re like most people, the word “hypnosis” brings to mind images of a guy swinging a watch in front of you, telling you that you’re getting sleepy and going unconscious, and you can be programmed to do or say anything and you won’t remember any of it.

The reality is more nuanced and a lot less dark-master-of-magic.

Here’s the simplest way to understand what hypnosis actually does: it’s like temporarily getting admin access to your brain’s expectation system.

Your brain is constantly predicting what you’ll feel, notice, fear, crave, or ignore. Most of the time, those predictions run on autopilot — shaped by everything that’s ever happened to you, especially the stuff you don’t remember.

Hypnosis uses focused attention to install a stronger prediction. “This pain is dull and distant.” “I don’t need the cigarette.” “I can remember this clearly.” When the prediction is strong enough, your body and perception move in that direction.

You’ve already experienced a version of this.

Ever lose yourself completely in a movie? So locked in that when the credits roll, you realize two hours vanished, and your heart’s still racing from a scene that never actually happened? That’s a mild hypnotic state.

Your attention narrowed, your analytic mind quieted, and an imagined experience became real enough to change your physiology.

Neuroimaging studies suggest that vividly imagined experiences activate many of the same brain regions involved in actual perception (Kosslyn et al., 2001).

A hypnotist just does this deliberately — through relaxation, fixation, repetition, voice pacing, and guided focus. Once your attention narrows, you become far more receptive to suggestion. Not because someone’s controlling you. Because the part of your brain that usually says “this isn’t real” got quiet for a minute.

Here’s the big idea: hypnosis does not override free will. But it can alter perception, emotional response, pain, and behavior by changing how your brain predicts and interprets experience (Lynn et al., 2000).

The hypnotist doesn’t control your mind. Your mind is more powerful than you realize — but most people only use that power to subconsciously hurt themselves. Obsessing over insecurities. Living in a constant state of worry about now or anticipation of what’s next.

Hypnosis takes that power back.

How Childhood Trauma Creates Trust Issues In Adulthood

During the session, I was instructed to imagine walking down a spiral staircase in my mind. Then to enter a door at the bottom and pass into a place I remember from my childhood as a safe space.

This was my first revelatory incident.

I’ve written about and made videos about my childhood experiences, but I hadn’t realized there were no places in my memory that felt safe.

I couldn’t even find a place that was largely associated with happy memories.

Now, I don’t want to give the impression that my childhood was all miserable and that I don’t have any enjoyable moments, but when I think of places I associate with warmth, happiness, and safety, those just didn’t exist for me.

Not until high school, where I was across town and out of the house almost every waking hour. I talk a lot about this dynamic in my book Hard Lessons From The Hurt Business: Boxing And The Art of Life. I threw that link in the description.

Eventually, I settled on my high school, which was the first place I truly felt safe and could relax.

Can You Change The Meaning Of Traumatic Memories?

Then I was instructed to find my younger self — somewhere in that space — and give him what he needed most.

This part was difficult.

Because I thought about all the pain. The disappointment. The people who should have protected me and didn’t.

And then the clarity hit.

Everything came down to one thing.

I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone not to hurt me.

Whether physically, emotionally, or mentally — what I needed most as a child was simply one person I believed would not try to beat me down.

I never had that.

We know from research on attachment that early experiences with caregivers often shape expectations about trust, intimacy, and emotional safety throughout adulthood (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007).

So I built walls. I learned early that showing vulnerability in my environment was an invitation for attack. I went the other way — not being emotionally expressive, never letting people see what got to me.

But also never letting people get close to me.

And this has followed me everywhere. It’s why I’ve lived my whole life trying to prove I’m worthy of people’s attention. When I channeled that drive, it produced books, a boxing career, and a physics degree.

When I let it take the path of least resistance, it led to alcoholism and chasing women who nearly destroyed my life.

It’s also why — despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary — I still don’t believe my friends actually like me. During my son’s baby shower, I actually had to hold back tears because I was confused about why all of these people would come out and voluntarily spend money on a baby they had never met just because it was my baby.

The damage from these childhood wounds can run deeper into adulthood than you can ever imagine. But your mind is powerful enough to deal with them in the right setting.

The Childhood Experiences You Don’t Remember May Still Be Shaping Your Life

Studies have shown that memory doesn’t work the way most people think it does.

Memory is not a perfect recording. Decades of research by psychologist Elizabeth Loftus have shown that memory is reconstructive rather than reproductive, meaning we rebuild memories rather than replay them.

And under the right conditions, that memory can become temporarily changeable before it gets stored again. This process, known as memory reconsolidation, has been one of the most important discoveries in modern memory research (Nader, Schafe, & LeDoux, 2000).

There’s a therapeutic technique called imagery rescripting. You revisit an emotionally painful memory — but instead of just reliving it, you bring in something new: protection, reassurance, understanding.

Imagery rescripting has been studied as a therapeutic approach to help people revisit painful memories and change the emotional meaning attached to them (Arntz, 2012).

You’re not pretending the event didn’t happen. You’re updating the conclusion you drew from it.

I didn’t change what happened to me as a child. I changed the message that child received — the message I’d been carrying for four decades.

And here’s what I want you to take from this.

You may not remember the most important thing about yourself. The thing that happened. The thing you blocked out.

But its fingerprints are all over your life. In the patterns you can’t break. The fears you can’t explain. The walls you don’t remember building.

No one teaches you this. No one tells you that the thing you can’t remember might be the most important thing about you.

But once you know — once you see it — you can start to change your relationship with it.

Get a free hypnosis session

If you want to experience the power of hypnosis with the same guy I worked with, he’s running a free live group session on Thursday, June 11th at 2:00 pm ET.

And don’t worry if you read this essay after that date and want to try out the free session.

As of the time I’m writing this essay, June 8th, 2026, he’ll be running these live sessions every Thursday for the rest of the summer and for how knows how long after that.

You can sign up here.

I’m not telling you it will do for you what it did for me. I’m telling you it surprised me enough that I think you should do it.

Frequently asked questions about childhood trauma, memories, and hypnosis

References

Diagnostic and Clinical Standards

American Psychiatric Association. (2022). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed., text rev.; DSM-5-TR). American Psychiatric Publishing.

Trauma and Long-Term Health Outcomes

Felitti, V. J., Anda, R. F., Nordenberg, D., Williamson, D. F., Spitz, A. M., Edwards, V., Koss, M. P., & Marks, J. S. (1998). Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to many of the leading causes of death in adults: The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study. American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 14(4), 245–258.https://doi.org/10.1016/S0749-3797(98)00017-8

Valentino, K., Toth, S. L., & Cicchetti, D. (2009). Autobiographical memory functioning among abused, neglected, and nonmaltreated children: The overgeneral memory effect. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 50(8), 1029–1038.https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1469-7610.2009.02072.x

Trauma and the Brain

Shin, L. M., & Liberzon, I. (2009). The neurocircuitry of fear, stress, and anxiety disorders. Neuropsychopharmacology, 35(1), 169–191.https://doi.org/10.1038/npp.2009.83

Arnsten, A. F. T. (2009). Stress signalling pathways that impair prefrontal cortex structure and function. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10(6), 410–422.https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn2648

Memory Formation, Recall, and Reconsolidation

Loftus, E. F. (2003). Our changeable memories: Legal and practical implications. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 4(3), 231–234.https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn1054

Nader, K., Schafe, G. E., & LeDoux, J. E. (2000). Fear memories require protein synthesis in the amygdala for reconsolidation after retrieval. Nature, 406(6797), 722–726.https://doi.org/10.1038/35021052

Kosslyn, S. M., Ganis, G., & Thompson, W. L. (2001). Neural foundations of imagery. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 2(9), 635–642.https://doi.org/10.1038/35090055

Relationships, Attachment, and Adult Behavior

Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2007). Attachment in adulthood: Structure, dynamics, and change. Guilford Press.

Therapeutic Interventions

Lynn, S. J., Kirsch, I., Barabasz, A., Cardeña, E., & Patterson, D. (2000). Hypnosis as an empirically supported clinical intervention: The state of the evidence and a look to the future. International Journal of Clinical and Experimental Hypnosis, 48(2), 239–259.https://doi.org/10.1080/00207140008410050

Arntz, A. (2012). Imagery rescripting as a therapeutic technique: Review of clinical trials, basic studies, and research agenda. Journal of Experimental Psychopathology, 3(2), 189–208.https://doi.org/10.5127/jep.024211