Sensing the Unspeakable: Growing Up in an Atmosphere of Secrecy

This first category aptly captures and describes the implicit knowing and early awareness of something being “off” in the family, described by participants as an intuitive or lingering feeling that seemed to be there even before they understood what was being hidden. That sense of secrecy was not always explicit; rather, it emerged in a space between what was seen and what was left unspoken, forming a backdrop to their childhoods. The participants’ recollections suggest that secrecy in childhood often did not begin with content, but more subtly with an atmosphere or perceptible emotional climate marked by ambivalence, ambiguity, withdrawal, or surveillance. For many, this atmosphere of not-knowing was internalised as unease or vigilance, forming the emotional backdrop of their childhoods.

Real-life stories became intertwined with this overarching sense of not-knowing – these include parental mental illness, loss and restructured families, violence and authoritarian parenting, and unspoken gendered expectations. Ylenia, for instance, recalls the shift in her mother following the birth of her twin siblings, attributing it retrospectively to an undiagnosed postpartum depression. “I think she must have been suffering … which she never acknowledged,” she reflects, noting how she pieced this together not through conversations but through observation. Vivian’s early years were similarly shaped by the unspoken: her mother’s illness and passing were shrouded in silence, and her grief was redirected through the integration into a reconstituted family system. Emma and Simon both evoke the emotional volatility of childhood marked by authoritarian parenting and violence, experiences that were never openly discussed, despite their profound impact. As Emma notes, “There are two sides to my childhood … one of fun, and the other one of fear.

The following passages, for instance, illustrate a shared experience for individuals growing up in families with inconsistent communication patterns and emotional dynamics. The participants experienced two polarities, describing a paradox in their earlier years - distortion of reality and silence on the one hand, and being burdened with secrets that are shared prematurely on the other hand. Developing a sensitivity to non-verbal cues and an intuition about emotional dynamics, Lisa and Emma describe how they would pick up cues about things that were not explicitly shared. There is also a clear dichotomy with certain topics being openly discussed, perhaps without considering the impact on the children involved, and instances of secrecy or distortion of information that would inevitably lead to confusion and distrust. The conflicting messages and mixed signals from adults were not easy to navigate, with both Lisa and Emma understanding they knew too much on the one hand, yet at the same feeling frustrated with the lack of consistency and honesty in communication.

I believe there were two extremes in my family – being intuitive and perceptive, there were moments in time where as a child I would be the one picking up things that were not said or lies that were being told. Then there were those moments where I would be the recipient and witness of intense emotions and stories that I firmly think would have been more suitably shared with an adult. (Lisa)

I do feel that I have been brought up in two polarities – on the one hand, there were things that were spoken too early about in front of us children by some adults … my parents would talk openly sometimes about other relatives, and I always wished I did not know so much about people in my family – it felt wrong somehow. On the other hand, some other things were kept hidden or were distorted, so that it created confusion in my mind as a child because things did not make sense in the context of what I already knew, with situations where I would know that the adults were certainly lying. (Emma)

Contrasting experiences during childhood transpire, with participants depicting moments of closeness and joy coexisting with unspoken tensions and confusion. As they grew older, they became more aware of these inconsistencies in adult behaviour. Yet, some participants experienced psychological or emotional fragmentation through the missing pieces in the stories told by their families (Imber-Black, 2018), and the creation of invisible rules and family myths (Bowen, 1978) which would help them make sense of and attune themselves to the emotional field and unspoken tensions. This emotional fragmentation – of living in what Sela and Bat-Or (2023) describe as a multi-layered tapestry of conflicting experiences – often resulted in profound internal dissonance.

“It was a very good childhood… but in actual fact, I did experience that on some levels. But on others, it was a terrible childhood.” — (Vivian).

“Nice memories of being a child… but they are all the time with a grey cloud around them. It was pretty heavy.” — (Nina).

Vivian’s memories of her mother’s illness were similarly fragmented. As a child, she sensed something significant was wrong but was discouraged from asking questions:

“I remember peeking through the bathroom door and seeing her remove her wig… I didn’t understand it was a wig. But I didn’t ask. Asking questions in our family was not done, even to this day.” — (Vivian).

These quotes illustrate what Minuchin (1974) might call “covert rules” — boundaries around knowledge that are never stated, yet rigidly enforced. The absence of open dialogue leaves children navigating their emotional realities in isolation. The impact of emotional fields in families is similarly pointed by Bowen (1978), suggesting that children absorb unspoken tensions long before they are fully formed as thoughts. Imber-Black (2018) puts forward the notion that children growing up in secretive climates often invent their own stories and family myths to fill in the gaps – strategies, that while adaptive, may fracture rather than integrate their understanding of the world.

While Brian’s narrative stands out as a testament to a nurturing and secure family environment, the stories of Ylenia, Vivian, Nina, Simon, Emma, and Lisa indicate a complex interplay between contrasting memories, themes of neglect and abuse, emotional turmoil, and the impact of family dynamics on individuals’ perceptions of reality. These stories reflect the legacy burdens of secrecy (Sinko, 2017), where what is left unspoken becomes inscribed in emotional memory, impacting how individuals relate to themselves and others. As Frijns et al. (2013) and Rober (2017) note, even when not directly told, children sense the presence of secrets through disrupted communication patterns, topic avoidance, and emotional withdrawal. Over time, these dynamics may lead children to internalise a sense of mistrust of others and themselves, a struggle which became visible across the participants’ stories particularly those who experienced a marked shift in family dynamics following loss, illness, or remarriage.

Emotional Role Reversals: Becoming the Keeper or the Fixer

A second category that percolated the participants’ stories was the tendency for them to become the secret-keeper, the caretaker, or protector within their families – often in ways that was developmentally premature and, consequently, burdensome on a psychological and emotional level. As children, most participants were expected to hold emotional space for adults or to manage family dynamics in ways they were not yet equipped to do. This dynamic is known as parentification or boundary inversion (Byng-Hall, 2008; Campbell et al., 2003). A defining feature of participants’ childhood experiences, these role reversals often shaped their adult identities, relational expectations and functioning. It is worth mentioning at this point that both emotional and instrumental parentification are usually associated with harmful outcomes, leading to developmental and relationship problems, with the instrumental type being regarded as potentially less problematic (Hooper, 2007).

The interviews revealed that five out of the seven participants were the eldest siblings in their families, with only Lisa and Simon being the middle children. Vivian was initially the only child from her parents’ marriage but became the elder sister from her father’s second marriage after the passing away of her birth mother. Nina, despite having a younger brother, often felt more akin to a younger sibling in behaviour, a sentiment echoed by her brother and others, and one that in many ways influenced the different role she took in her family from most of the other participants. As the eldest, they assumed roles of responsibility, self-reliance, and protection towards siblings and sometimes towards parents. Ylenia and Emma, in particular, took on very distinctive caregiving roles towards their younger siblings, potentially linked to their birth order – protecting and caring at both the physical and emotional level.

During their formative years, a process of reversed roles began to unfold in their families, with some participants actively seeking to care and protect family members, being themselves, their siblings, or their parents. In the absence of adults who could take on and stand accountable for their responsibilities, as children, participants made conscious or unconscious decisions to become a ‘parent’ for themselves, their siblings, and sometimes their parents. The psychological and emotional toll of such role reversal has been widely noted in the literature on parentification, with research showing that children who assume caregiving roles often struggle to develop a coherent sense of self outside of relational service (Yarrow, 2012). This was the case for most participants, except for Brian whose story is unique in this aspect. For most participants, but not for all, being the eldest seem to have impinged on taking on a parentified role. This meant growing up too soon, and for some most especially for Ylenia and Emma, it also meant they took on the task of raising their parents in more ways than one. Emma describes herself as being always seen as mature beyond her years, from her early childhood, whilst Ylenia reflects that:

My mother always behaved as if she were the child. Up till today, I do not see her as such as my mother because I am the one who keeps caring for her. Even if I had to confide in her about my struggles … it would simply fall on deaf ears. It was always like this, even as a child. (Ylenia)

Being burdened with family secrets by adults who see them as their confidantes is also part of this process of parentification. There is a sense of a lost childhood, of heavy burdens, of unfairness and injustice towards them as children and adolescence. Yet at the same time, as children, this could also act as a validating act, making them feel somewhat seen for their ability to listen, to keep secrets from others, leading to this sense of ambivalence as they tried to make sense of what was happening to them, both internally and externally. Emma’s story reinforces this theme, as she repeatedly found herself in a position to act as her parents’ emotional container in moments of distress. “There were many secrets I became privy to at a very young age … I was my parents’ confidante,” she recalled. Being prematurely exposed to adult concerns, particularly related to infidelity in her family, financial stress, and mental health issues, required participants like Emma and Lisa to engage in dialectical navigation of issues that are beyond their emotional maturity or grasp (Rober et al., 2012). As children, participants would engage in managing the tension between being drawn into secrets and knowing these disclosures were emotionally inappropriate or burdensome.

This dynamic of overexposure and under-protection often blurred boundaries between generations, creating a form of emotional entrapment for the participants, who received the direct or subtle message that they were expected to care for, support, protect, or absorb family members’ emotions while simultaneously being denied space for their own. Undoubtedly, this sense of responsibility, internalised by the participants at a young age, influenced their emerging identities, differentiation of the self, and their emotional worlds. The caregiving roles were rarely explicitly recognised within the family system; rather, they were encouraged through subtle cues, relational withdrawal or differential treatment from the adults who were meant to raise them and protect them.

Lisa’s story, for example, illustrates the way children are at times directed to manage the emotional states of adults, which adds confusion to the already overburdened child. In her case, despite being the middle child rather than the eldest yet mature beyond her years, she often took on the role of the mediator or translator between emotionally reactive or withholding parents or relatives. She recalls how she would be punished for “knowing too much” or “saying too much”, actions which often created paradoxical sensations between having a central emotional role in her family yet being then silenced when it came to her voice. Moreover, as Lisa tried to make sense of the repercussions of her family’s financial struggles, the secret of her father’s concealed debt further established her role as a container of family stress. This notion points to emotional triangulation where children are pulled into dyadic tensions to stabilise the family’s emotional field, which in turn helps alleviate anxiety in dyadic relationships (Bowen, 1978). In these families, where generational and relational boundaries are diffused, enmeshment may occur, with children becoming overinvolved in adults’ lives and relationships. As a result, there is little differentiation happening and the children’s emotional needs take a backseat role in favour of the family system’s stability (Minuchin, 1974). Furthermore, Imber-Black (1998, 2018) postulates that, in families governed by secrecy, the most emotionally attuned relatives or eldest children often adopt a protector, fixer or truth-buffer’s role.

The enduring nature of these emotional role reversals is reflected in the participants’ reflections on their adult lives, with several expressing a difficulty to remove themselves from the ‘caregiving’ or ‘helper’ identity, even in relationships that may become dysfunctional or maladaptive. On the other hand, there is also a conscious effort by some not to replicate their family scripts (Byng-Hall, 2008) – translated in a desire and a deep commitment to change the patterns in their parenting, protecting their own children from the role confusion they themselves experienced as children.

Secrets are tricky and children, especially children, should not be burdened with them. They should be raised in a climate of authenticity, honesty and transparency, but this does not mean there are no boundaries or limits to what a child should be exposed to – mindful, honest adults know what it is that is safe and healthy to share with a child and what is not. (Emma)

Living the Double Life: Secrecy, Shame, and Split Selves

Drawing from narratives provided by participants, the study points to the nuanced interplay between intra-familial family dynamics and external perceptions shaped by secrecy. In the process of exploring and uncovering the intricate ways in which families engage in a process of starting and maintaining secrets within and outside the family, it becomes evident that a web of lies, concealment, unspoken truths and silences with family members who fall within and outside the secret-bearing group is created and perpetuated. This, in turn, engenders stories of connection and disconnection, thus balancing proximity and distance in relationships impacted by one or more family secrets.

The stories narrated by the seven participants point to a dissonance between the image of family life projected to the outside world and the lives they experienced behind closed doors. The contradictions between the two worlds awakened a myriad of emotions, such as shame and confusion, often leading to deep psychological fragmentation. Within this dual existence, they were often asked — implicitly or explicitly — to maintain appearances, to preserve family images, or to perform roles that conflicted with their lived emotional truths, especially in such a close-knit society that is present in a small island stage such as Malta.

Imber-Black (2018) explores this through the notion of shared silences and secret-keeping, with family secrets acting as magnets, pulling some relatives into the inner circle while pushing others to the periphery. In this way, some members become bound together in shared silence, while emotional barriers are put up for others who are kept privy of the family secret. Some participants in this study learned to hide the more vulnerable, confused, or traumatised aspects of their self as both a coping mechanism and a protective factor. Rober and Rosenblatt (2015) indirectly explore the idea of the split self in their work on narrative inheritance, describing how secrecy and silence can distort internal coherence and compromise emotional authenticity across generations.

Emma’s story is a striking example of the emotional toll of living a double life – one shaped by the tension between things that are told and things that are kept hidden in families (Rober et al., 2012). On the surface, she grew up in a lively extended family, surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, and siblings, and often enjoyed outings and moments of family connection and warmth. Yet, beneath the surface lay conflict, secrecy, violence and betrayal. Her thoughts around the infidelity she observed or learned about, as well as the emotional volatility of some relatives including her parents, reveal the pain and burden experienced by children who know truths that are never acknowledged. In systemic terms, this reflects what Rober et al. (2012) describe to be a dialectical tension between what is told and what is left untold, seen as a core element in families marked by secrecy.

Ylenia was never able to discuss her mother’s undiagnosed depression with anyone, which left her feeling isolated and burdened by this awareness that remained openly unacknowledged by her family. She only found some form of consolation and support in an aunt’s efforts to make up for her mother’s negligence and lack of care towards her and her brothers. Yet she never openly discussed the ‘secret’ with anyone. Her story exemplifies the isolating effects of unacknowledged family secrecy. Simon suffered silently through an abusive and distressful childhood in a stepfamily environment that positioned him in many ways as the ‘black sheep’ in his family due to what his stepfather regarded to be a rebellious, disobedient, and ungrateful nature. He grappled with feelings of alienation and rejection throughout his childhood and was only able to find some form of validation and refuge later on in his adolescence when he mustered the courage to confide in a supportive family member who immediately took action and provided him with a secure space that enabled him to stop this cycle of negativity and abuse.

My mum wanted to tell the truth and to tell people in her family what was going on. But she was too scared of my stepfather, she always protected us as much as she could. She never went to her mum and told her what was going on. But then as we grew up she opened her eyes and realised she actually needed to do something about this. She realised this when I told her I am leaving the family home and staying in Malta with my aunty. (Simon)

Constrained by a perceived need to ‘keep up appearances’ and adhere to a rather strict moral code in her family, Vivian also confronts a family reality rife with hidden truths and distorted perceptions, both within their family unit and hidden from the outside world. Her experience brings out the insidious nature of family secrecy, perpetuating a façade of normalcy while concealing underlying tensions and conflicts. Lisa’s family was also affected by her parents’ efforts to hide important matters about their family from each other and from the outside world, denying and punishing her for her tendency to call out any detected lies or half-truths. Her story highlights the disruptive impact of family deception on individual autonomy and emotional well-being, as children who challenge the façade of family harmony find themselves being further ostracised and isolated.

I was very perceptive as a child, nothing would escape me – so while I was being raised in a culture where not only children, but even adults especially if they were women, would be expected to stay silent and follow the lead of a man, I was not that type of girl. I would be the one to challenge an adult if I felt they were not telling the truth. In my case, I would speak up. This was not met with grace from my family, because if you wanted to hide some stories from other family members and from the outside world, and your child was pushing for clarity, asking questions and calling out the hypocrisy and lies, it would position the child in an unfavourable place, right? (Lisa)

These accounts exemplify what Minuchin (1974) describes as incongruence in family realities, where rigid roles and covert rules characterise the familial system at the expense of open communication and flexibility in role-taking. The reasons may vary from family image preservation to stigma avoidance or protection from shame. Yet the result would often mean the suppression of one’s intuitive knowledge or the creation of dual identities. This aligns with studies such as Sela and Bat-Or (2023) that demonstrate how children often develop elaborate internal narratives to reconcile conflicting cues as a result of secrecy and topic avoidance.

Shame becomes a salient feature in the participants’ accounts. Hunter (2010) and Cain (2006) point out that shame is often inherited through silence – forming an integral and invisible part of what cannot be named. It is interesting to note that what created shame in most participants was not their own wrongdoing or behaviour, but the understanding of knowing or suspecting something they were not meant to know. This was particularly pervasive in families inflicted by issues such as infidelity, financial difficulties, and mental illness.

This category highlights the way secrecy operates in ways that fracture a child’s sense of self – not merely by withholding information but by creating a relational context in which authenticity becomes threatening. In several ways, the participants’ experiences reveal the emotional costs of being asked to stick to a family narrative that was in conflict with their internal reality or experience of the world they inhabited. Having said this, their stories also indicate a conscious and persistent effort for them to make meaning of these contradictions – reconciling the split between how things were portrayed publicly, and how things felt internally.