How Do Childhood Experiences Affect Us?

A Personal and Clinical Exploration of the Mind-Body Connection

My personal experience with chronic pain began early in life, alongside a childhood story that often left others speechless. It sparked a deep sense of curiosity in me. Over a decade ago, during a therapeutic process, something shifted. After years of feeling fragmented through various therapies, I experienced integration—real, embodied change.

It wasn’t just cognitive. I had understood my story many times before.But this time, my body changed.

The trauma I had carried for years was finally met safely. My chronic pain—persistent for over 15 years—was nearly gone. The sensations that once overwhelmed me began to transform into meaningful signals. The way I related to myself, others, and the world around me fundamentally shifted.

Could all of this be connected?

I had always believed in the body-mind connection. But for years, I didn’t know how it worked. That question led me on a journey—one that included ten years of study across disciplines. I began to explore and piece together the fields of fascia research, structural bodywork, nervous system regulation, somatic psychology, neuroscience, and trauma studies.

The result? A profound understanding of the integration between them—and the possibility of true healing.

The Lasting Impact of Childhood Experiences

Psychology has long acknowledged that early life experiences shape us. Even decades later, many adults recognize that moments from childhood continue to influence how they relate, feel, and respond.

However, for many years, the field focused narrowly on pathology, often missing how universal and human these experiences really are.

The ACE Study: Childhood Trauma and Long-Term Health

One of the most influential contributions to this field is the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study. Conducted between 1995 and 1997 by Kaiser Permanente and the CDC, the study explored how early-life trauma—abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction—impacts long-term health.

Key findings included:

• The higher the ACE score, the greater the risk for chronic illness, depression, addiction, and even premature death.

• Adverse experiences included:

  • Abuse: physical, emotional, or sexual

  • Neglect: emotional or physical

  • Household challenges: mental illness, addiction, divorce, incarceration, or violence

This groundbreaking research reframed trauma—not just as something that happens to us, but as something that reshapes our physiology.

As our understanding of trauma has evolved, we’ve moved beyond simply naming events. Now, the focus is on how our body responds to overwhelming experiences—through nervous system activation, protection, and survival strategies.

Trauma Through the Lens of the Nervous System

“Trauma is not what happens to you. It’s what happens inside you as a result of what happens to you.”— Dr. Gabor Maté

When we experience trauma, especially in childhood, our autonomic nervous system activates protective responses: fight, flight, or freeze. These physiological states, designed to keep us alive, become our baseline if the environment doesn’t support recovery or safety.

Prolonged stress activation can lead to:

• Chronic muscle tension or pain

• Digestive issues

• Sleep disturbances

• Emotional dysregulation

• Immune system suppression

  
  

As one of my clients said:

“It’s like my body has its own brain.” “It kind of does,” I replied.

A woman in her 50s came to me after a fibromyalgia diagnosis and years of unsuccessful treatments. When we began exploring her body’s story—past stressors, pain, and protective patterns, and things started to unfold—she cried and said, “I didn’t just get a new body; I got a new me.”

Polyvagal Theory: The Science of Safety and Connection

Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory offered a new understanding of the autonomic nervous system. It introduced the idea that, beyond fight-or-flight, our system also includes a social engagement branch governed by the ventral vagus nerve.

This theory describes three states:

• Ventral Vagal: Connection, safety, openness

• Sympathetic Activation: Fight or flight

• Dorsal Vagal: Immobilization, shutdown

Safety, as Dr. Maté says, is not just the absence of threat—it’s the presence of connection.

A man in his 60s once described repeated panic attacks and tightness in his chest. At first, he feared heart disease. But when we explored his early experiences—growing up under constant pressure, without emotional connection—we uncovered a lifelong activation of his sympathetic system. His chronic stress mirrored early survival patterns.

Childhood Development and the Brain

The stage of development in which an experience occurs matters greatly.

While the ACE study looks broadly at childhood, systems like Bodynamic Analysis (a somatic developmental psychology model from Denmark) map trauma across developmental stages—from the womb through adolescence. Each stage involves different psychological themes and physical needs.

Dr. Dan Siegel’s research complements this by showing how brain regions develop in relationship to environment:

• Brainstem: Controls basic survival functions—active at birth

• Limbic system: Governs emotion and attachment—develops in early years

• Cortex (especially prefrontal): Enables integration, reflection, and decision-making—matures into our mid-20s

High activation in early childhood can lead to shutdowns in cortical development. Integration across systems—body, emotion, cognition—requires safety, attunement, and connection.

“The more we relate to our sensing, feeling, and thinking capacities, the more we promote integration.”— Dr. Dan Siegel

The Fascia: Our Body’s Network of Connection

The fascia is a web-like connective tissue that surrounds every muscle, organ, and cell. Rich in sensory receptors, it interacts with our nervous system and responds to stress and emotion.

Research by Dr. Robert Schleip shows:

• Fascia becomes rigid and less sensitive in chronic conditions and emotional stress

• People with depression show measurable changes in fascial tone, especially in the shoulders

• Fascia responds to both movement and emotional release

This discovery was a turning point in my own healing. As a lifelong mover and former gymnast, I turned to Myofascial therapy after struggling with chronic pain. I found that fascia had been a missing link—where emotion, movement, and healing meet.

Fascia loses its “connective” quality when it stiffens. In my experience, it mirrors disintegration in the mind—where fragmentation, numbness, or overwhelm take over.

Healing Happens in Connection

Dr. Bessel van der Kolk reminds us that trauma lives not just in memory but in current physical reactions. As clients reconnect to their sensations, stories, and emotions—often for the first time—they begin to shift.

One man in his 40s told me, “I haven’t cried in 20 years.” As we worked through body-based exploration, he began to feel again. The impact reached not only his own well-being but the way he connected with his family. Integration, as Dr. Siegel says, happens between us—not just within.

We Are Wired to Belong

Dr. Kerstin Uvnäs Moberg speaks to the biological roots of connection. Our physiology, shaped over millennia in small groups, depends on touch, closeness, and safety. But our modern culture often celebrates independence and cognitive mastery—separating body from mind, and self from others.

“Today, the ideal is often to ‘be someone’ instead of ‘belonging’ to something.”— Dr. Moberg

Pain, in my experience—physical or emotional—is not just a symptom. It’s a call from the body. It invites us to reconnect, listen, and reweave the threads of our story.

Final Thoughts: Listening as a Way Home

Chronic pain and symptoms are multilayered experiences. In my clinical work, they often trace back to early life—through a web of stress, disconnection, and survival strategies.

Not every adverse experience leads to illness. But in the presence of chronic symptoms, there is often something waiting to be seen, heard, and felt. A seed lying dormant.

The good news is this:There is a way back.

It begins by turning inward, gently.By listening to the signals.And by returning—slowly and safely—to the wisdom of the body.