Today, I had the privilege of sitting down with Raveena Arora, a psychologist and content creator who specializes in healing adult children of toxic parents. Through her Instagram (@raveenaaroraaa), she shares unfiltered, unapologetic views about toxic parenting that resonate with millions. Her work helps people recognize patterns they didn’t even know had names.

Our conversation was raw, honest, and deeply moving. As someone who works with families every day, I’ve seen how childhood experiences ripple into adulthood in ways we often don’t recognize.

The Childhood We Don’t Talk About

“I was a very silent kid,” Raveena shared with me. “My voice was never heard. My opinions were never respected. I never had that space to express myself or just be myself.”

This hit me hard because I hear variations of this story almost every week in my practice. Children who grew up walking on eggshells. Adults who still flinch at raised voices. People in their 30s and 40s who can’t remember much of their childhood not because of age, but because their nervous system was in constant survival mode.

When I asked Raveena about her childhood memories, she said something that broke my heart: “My brain was always in fight, flight, and freeze mode. So many memories are there, but I don’t think about how I lived through them.”

Here’s what many parents don’t realize: 

When a child can’t remember their childhood clearly, it’s often a sign of trauma. If you don’t remember your father dropping you off at school, your mother feeding you with love, or happy family moments. If your childhood memories only start from your teenage years, your mind may have protected you from painful experiences by blocking them out.

The Four People Who Don’t Exist

One of the most powerful moments in our conversation came when Raveena talked about something every Indian child knows: The fear of “what will people say?“

“If you take any decision in life, the first thought that comes is: what will people say? What will society say? What will relatives say?” Raveena laughed, but there was pain behind it. She said “I’m like, where are those four people? Please introduce me. I don’t see four people.”

I’m 43, and I grew up in a generation where our parents were like gods. We never dared to open our mouths in front of them. We had to leave the room during romantic TV scenes. We were conditioned to seek approval, to stay silent, to never question.

But here’s what happened: we learned to value society’s opinion over our own happiness. We learned to value strangers’ judgment over our children’s emotional needs. And our children are paying the price.

When Success Doesn’t Mean You’re Healed

I asked Raveena a question that many parents ask me: “We were also beaten in childhood, and look how successful we turned out. So what’s the problem?”

Her answer was illuminating: “It’s about normalization. When you say ‘our parents hit us in childhood’ so casually, you normalize it. You don’t see it as trauma. You don’t deal with it on an emotional level because there’s not enough awareness. People don’t see their parents as normal human beings who can make mistakes.”

Success in your career doesn’t mean you’ve healed from childhood trauma. You can be professionally accomplished and still struggle with anxiety when someone raises their voice, difficulty setting boundaries, people-pleasing tendencies, and fear of disappointing others.

Recently, a 23-year-old boy in Pune jumped from a building. He had just been placed in an IT company. His whole life was ahead of him. But his suicide note said: “I’m sorry, Papa. I failed you as a son.”

He hadn’t failed. But he believed he had, and he found taking his own life easier than going back home to face his father’s disappointment. This is what happens when children grow up without emotional safe spaces when the only thing that matters is academic success and avoiding failure at all costs.

The Space That Wasn’t There

“That emotional space wasn’t there in my home,” Raveena told me. “Where you can come, express what you’re going through, and you won’t be judged. Where parents would say, ‘It’s okay if you failed. It’s okay if you don’t want to do this.’ That space was not there.”

This is the reality for so many children, even those with “good” parents. Fear isn’t always about physical punishment. Sometimes it’s about disappointing the people you love most, hearing comparisons to cousins who are doing better, or the silence that follows when you don’t meet expectations.

Indian parenting in the 90s and even today in many homes didn’t teach parents how to create emotional safety. The default was: “Study harder. Get into this college. Why can’t you be like your friend?” But they never stopped to think: maybe my child learns differently. Maybe my child doesn’t want to do engineering. Maybe not every child in a class of 40 can come first.

The Gentle Parenting Myth

“Is gentle parenting weak?” I asked Raveena directly, because this is what I hear all the time.

“That’s a very confusing statement,” she said firmly. “Gentle parenting doesn’t mean just holding your child’s hand and calming them down. Gentle parenting is about setting boundaries. It’s about giving choices. It’s about not implementing your wishes through your child.”

She shared a beautiful example. Before going to the mall with her toddler, she prepares him the night before. She explains: “We’re going to the mall tomorrow. These are your choices. You can get an ice cream, a toy, play in the playzone, or something else. But you choose one.” Then at the mall, she reminds him. Before paying, she validates his choice and gives him the money to hand to the cashier.

“Gentle parenting isn’t weak,” she smiled. “It’s strategic. It’s healthy parenting. It’s a win-win situation.”

I couldn’t agree more. When you involve children in decision-making from small things, they develop the power of choice, decision-making skills, and clarity instead of confusion. This isn’t rocket science. It’s consciousness. It’s mindfulness.

What Indian Daughters Are Still Taught

“Girls are taught to cook not as a survival skill, but to keep their husbands and in-laws happy,” Raveena said. “It’s fed into your mind: you have to serve others. You’re learning it to serve your in-laws, your husband, to keep them happy.”

Even today, this happens in countless families. Meanwhile, sons grow up watching their mothers serve everyone. They internalize a dangerous expectation: our wives will also cook for us and serve us, just like our mothers did.

But the world has changed. Women are working. They’re excelling in their careers. They don’t want servants disguised as husbands. They want equal partners.

The solution starts at home. If you have a son and a daughter, teach both of them to cook as a survival skill, not a gendered duty. Teach your son that his future wife is not coming to his home to serve him. She’s his equal partner.

The Triggers We Carry

One of the most vulnerable moments came when Raveena talked about her triggers as an adult.

“Whenever I see a stranger shouting, it really triggers me. I feel very uncomfortable because it triggers my childhood trauma. I feel anxiety, palpitations. My nervous system goes into fight and flight mode. It’s still there. It’s not 100% healed.”

This is so important for parents to understand. When children grow up in homes where fathers shout to silence everyone, mothers tell children to “maintain peace” by staying quiet, and silent treatment is used as punishment, their nervous systems get damaged.

They become adults who get anxious when someone raises their voice, experience physical symptoms like sweating and shaking, struggle with confrontation, and people-please to maintain peace.

And here’s the painful truth: when you’re not healed properly, you bleed on innocent people. Mothers who are shouted at by their partners often release that pain by yelling at their children. In psychology, we call this displacement of anger. And it perpetuates cycles of pain across generations.

The Message of Hope

As we wrapped up, I asked Raveena what message she’d give to parents struggling with their relationships with their children.

Her answer was full of hope: “Your children don’t see you as the enemy. They really want your validation, your love, your support. Even if you think it’s too late, it’s not. You can still have a good relationship with them. All you have to do is provide them with a safe space that emotional space to express themselves. Be there for them. Listen to their stories, kindly and calmly. You have to be a kind parent first.”

I would add: there is no age limit for kind, gentle parenting. You can start today. Call your child and talk. They may not open up the first time. Maybe not the second time. But by the tenth conversation, something will shift.

The key is being non-judgmental. As soon as you judge your child, they back out. They think, “My opinion is not valued here.”

What This Means for You

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself either as the child who lived through toxic parenting or as the parent who may have unknowingly perpetuated it, please know this is not about blame.

Your parents did the best they could with the tools they had. And you’re doing the best you can with yours. But awareness changes everything.

If you grew up without emotional safety, you can create it for your children now. If you were raised with fear and comparison, you can choose connection and acceptance. If your voice was silenced, you can listen to theirs.

The patterns stop when someone decides to do things differently.

I’m not against parents. I’m a mother myself of a toddler and a teen. I know how hard this is. But I also know that conscious, mindful parenting isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being present. It’s about apologizing when you mess up. It’s about creating a home where your children know they can fail and still be loved.

Because here’s the truth: academic success, good placements, and impressive careers mean nothing if your child is struggling alone, unable to come to you when life gets hard.

The goal isn’t to raise successful children. It’s to raise emotionally healthy children who can handle success and failure with resilience and self-compassion.