Years after escaping the rigid structure of your childhood home, you might discover you're still marching to the beat of rules you didn't even know you were following—and the realization could change everything.
Growing up, I knew exactly what was expected of me. My mother, a teacher, and my father, an engineer, had clear expectations: homework before play, perfect grades, and no talking back. Ever. Their house ran like clockwork, with rules for everything from how to fold towels to what constituted an acceptable career path. I spent years thinking I'd left all that behind, only to realize in my thirties that I was still living by an invisible rulebook I hadn't even noticed I was carrying.
Maybe you can relate? If your childhood home felt more like boot camp than a sanctuary, you might still be following patterns you don't even realize exist. These behaviors feel so normal, so deeply woven into who you are, that questioning them seems almost impossible.
1) You struggle to relax without feeling guilty
Remember Saturday mornings as a kid? While other children watched cartoons, maybe you were cleaning your room, practicing piano, or doing extra math problems. The message was clear: idle hands are the devil's workshop.
Fast forward to today. When was the last time you sat on your couch doing absolutely nothing without that nagging voice saying you should be productive? I used to feel physically uncomfortable watching TV without folding laundry at the same time. Every moment needed to be optimized, every hour accounted for.
It wasn't until I confronted this belief that rest equals laziness that I realized how exhausted I'd become. My body was constantly tense, ready for the next task. Learning to rest without guilt took practice. I had to literally schedule "do nothing" time and force myself to honor it. The world didn't fall apart when I stopped moving for an hour. Who knew?
2) You over-prepare for everything
Do you arrive everywhere 20 minutes early? Pack three backup plans for a simple outing? Triple-check your work before submitting it?
In strict households, being unprepared meant consequences. Forgot your homework? That's a lecture. Didn't anticipate a problem? You should have known better. This creates adults who treat every situation like a potential minefield.
I once brought a 15-page agenda to a casual coffee meeting with a friend. She laughed and asked if I was planning to negotiate a peace treaty. That moment hit me hard. Not everything requires military-level preparation. Sometimes showing up is enough.
3) You apologize constantly, even when you've done nothing wrong
"Sorry for bothering you." "Sorry, can I ask a question?" "Sorry for existing in this space."
Sound familiar? When you grow up where every minor infraction is scrutinized, apologizing becomes armor. You preemptively say sorry to avoid potential criticism or punishment.
But here's what excessive apologizing really does: it tells people you believe your needs, questions, and presence are inherently problematic. You're basically announcing that you don't deserve to take up space. Try replacing "sorry" with "thank you" instead. "Thank you for your patience" hits different than "Sorry for being late."
4) You need permission or validation for personal decisions
Can I tell you something embarrassing? Until I was 35, I called my parents before making any major purchase. Not for advice, but for permission. A grown woman with her own career asking if it was okay to buy a new couch for her own apartment.
When every choice in childhood requires approval, you never learn to trust your own judgment. You seek committees for decisions only you can make. What should I wear? Is this hobby acceptable? Can I change careers?
The truth? You're the only one living your life. Others don't have to deal with the consequences of your choices, so why are they getting a vote?
5) You have an intense fear of making mistakes
Mistakes in rigid households aren't learning opportunities; they're moral failures. Spill your milk? You're careless. Get a B instead of an A? You're not trying hard enough.
This creates adults who are paralyzed by perfectionism. I spent years in jobs I hated because trying something new meant risking failure. The possibility of messing up felt scarier than staying miserable.
Reading Rudá Iandê's new book "Laughing in the Face of Chaos" recently gave me a different perspective. He writes, "When we let go of the need to be perfect, we free ourselves to live fully—embracing the mess, complexity, and richness of a life that's delightfully real." His insights helped me see that my perfectionism wasn't protecting me; it was keeping me small.
6) You struggle with boundaries because saying "no" feels wrong
In authoritarian households, "no" isn't an option. You do what you're told, when you're told, without question. This trains you to ignore your own limits and comply with others' demands, no matter the cost.
As adults, this shows up as chronic overcommitment. You say yes to every request, every favor, every additional responsibility, even when you're drowning. The thought of disappointing someone feels physically painful.
Learning to say no without elaborate justification has been revolutionary for me. "No, I can't do that" is a complete sentence. You don't owe anyone a dissertation on why you're protecting your time and energy.
7) You judge yourself harshly while being compassionate toward others
Isn't it interesting how we can forgive everyone else's mistakes but never our own? You'd comfort a friend who made an error at work, but when you do it, you're incompetent. Others deserve grace; you deserve criticism.
This double standard comes from internalizing the harsh voice of strict parents. They're not even in the room anymore, but you've become your own drill sergeant, holding yourself to impossible standards while letting everyone else be human.
8) You feel responsible for other people's emotions
Did you grow up tiptoeing around a parent's moods? Learning to read the room before speaking? Adjusting your behavior to keep the peace?
This creates adults who feel personally responsible for everyone's happiness. If someone's upset, you must have done something wrong. If they're disappointed, you should have prevented it.
But as Rudá Iandê points out in his book, "Their happiness is their responsibility, not yours." This hit me like a lightning bolt. I'd spent decades trying to manage other people's feelings, exhausting myself in the process. The relief of letting others own their emotions was immediate and profound.
Final thoughts
Recognizing these patterns is the first step toward breaking them. They served a purpose once, helping you navigate a challenging childhood environment. But what protected you then might be limiting you now.
I had to confront my parents' disappointment when I chose my own path, and guess what? The world didn't end. They adjusted. I survived. And for the first time, I felt free to actually live my life instead of performing it.
Change won't happen overnight. These behaviors are deeply rooted, and gentleness with yourself is crucial. Notice when these patterns show up. Question whether they still serve you. Choose differently when you can.
You're not betraying your upbringing by evolving beyond it. You're simply recognizing that the rules you lived by as a child don't have to govern your adult life. You get to write your own rulebook now, one that includes rest, mistakes, boundaries, and the radical act of putting yourself first sometimes.
Just launched: Laughing in the Face of Chaos by Rudá Iandê
Exhausted from trying to hold it all together?
You show up. You smile. You say the right things. But under the surface, something’s tightening. Maybe you don’t want to “stay positive” anymore. Maybe you’re done pretending everything’s fine.
This book is your permission slip to stop performing. To understand chaos at its root and all of your emotional layers.
In Laughing in the Face of Chaos, Brazilian shaman Rudá Iandê brings over 30 years of deep, one-on-one work helping people untangle from the roles they’ve been stuck in—so they can return to something real. He exposes the quiet pressure to be good, be successful, be spiritual—and shows how freedom often lives on the other side of that pressure.
This isn’t a book about becoming your best self. It’s about becoming your real self.
