Oh Hello, Old Wounds: Sun, Salt, and Sibling Triggers in Mexico

I just got back from a week in Mexico with my siblings.

The five of us—just us, no partners, no kids, no distractions—living under one roof again for the first time in years. My mom gifted us the trip, which in true La Jefa form, meant she was flexing her matriarch muscle and making damn sure we prioritized each other.

It was stunning. The ocean, the whales. All the colorful details that make the food, people, art, scenery, and way of life so magical.

We swam with humpbacks and listened to their songs through the water—songs they rewrite every year and pass around the globe like viral hits.

It got me thinking about the possibility of rewriting old stories—the roles my siblings and I were cast in—and passing something different, something softer and truer, between us.

Because the truth is, as beautiful and priceless as this trip was, I knew going into it that it would be hard. And it was even harder than that. 

When Love & Trust Aren’t the Same

I love my siblings. That’s never been in question.

But trusting that my tender heart will be safe with them, that they'll be kind, that I'll be able to relax, be myself, and feel good in their presence? That's different.

It hasn’t always felt this way, and it’s complicated and multi-layered. Not at all easy to tease apart.

But, it’s no wonder I do what I do for a living. I see so clearly how my family-of-origin dynamics birthed within me a deep need to retrieve and unfold myself. To cultivate unshakable self-trust and embodied freedom (the courage and ability to be my true self).

This cultivation is a lifelong journey. And, this beautiful and emotionally exhausting trip reminded me that it remains hardest to do around my siblings. They show me where my work is not near done—and it stings.

More than stings. Aches.

Somewhere between childhood closeness and adulthood...

I became hyper-aware of how their jabs always land in the softest spots. How hard it is for me to not take their complaints personally. How, despite knowing we love each other so much, I brace myself in their presence, like I’m waiting for the next criticism, the next debate I didn’t sign up for.

Often, I don’t take the bait—I don’t want to win. I'd so much rather be connected than right.

And yet, I find myself making myself small so they won't be tempted to do it for me. I smooth over. I laugh things off that weren't at all funny. I keep a calm exterior while my stomach churns and my throat and chest tighten. And I carefully avoid any display of leadership or expertise that might attract scrutiny—or mutiny. Case in point: “No mom, I don’t think I’ll teach a yoga class for everyone. Let’s just go to a nearby studio and take someone else’s class.”

This is SO not who I know myself to be, which is painfully disorienting. Is it self-betrayal, or wisdom and energy conservation? Probably both.

Quite awake to the well-meaning (10-year-old feeling) protector part in me in charge of this strategy, I offer her deep compassion and remind her quietly, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll take it from here.” That’s my cue for Adult me to take back the wheel and take the most doable baby step available that will back my promise with action—even if it’s as simple as one slow deep breath, or a walk to the bathroom to splash water on my face.

Mother and Father Woundology

When we are raised by Emotionally Immature Parents, or EIPs (I’d wager that MOST in my generation were), their lack of self-awareness, struggles with emotional regulation, and physical or emotional unavailability creates invisible wounds that shape our self-perception, relationships, and ability to trust.

✔ We learn to second-guess and suppress our feelings.

✔ We develop survival strategies like people-pleasing, hyper-independence, and conflict avoidance.

✔ Hypervigilance and anxiety become our constant companions. We’re always scanning for potential threats, bracing for criticism, or needing to “earn” love.

✔ We struggle with boundaries, either overextending ourselves to avoid rejection or building walls so high that no one gets in.

✔ We fear rejection, learning that disagreeing equals danger—so we either feign agreement or fight to be heard.

✔ We seek external validation. Because our emotions weren’t validated, we seek approval elsewhere to feel “enough.”

✔ We doubt our own perceptions and are easily gaslit by others. Questioning our own memories, needs, and feelings, we worry if we’re “too much” or “too sensitive.”

Siblings can trigger old wounds more than anyone else because they are direct links to our earliest survival strategies, family dynamics, and attachment wounds.

While we may heal or create new patterns in friendships, romantic relationships, or therapy, siblings pull us right back to the origin point—the family system where those patterns were first wired.

Here’s why:

1️⃣ They witnessed the same household, but with different roles.

In emotionally immature families, children unconsciously take on survival roles to keep the system functioning. You don’t just grow up in a family—you are assigned a part in it.

While this is in no way an exhaustive list, here are some of the most common roles:

• The Golden Child – The high-achiever who follows the rules, pleases the parents, and “makes the family look good”, upholding the illusion of a functional family.

• The Scapegoat – The problem child, rebel, or truth-teller who absorbs the family’s dysfunction, is blamed for everything, and often misunderstood.

• The Caretaker – The fixer, peacemaker, emotional sponge, and parentified child, always managing everyone else’s needs.

• The Lost Child – The quiet, withdrawn, invisible one; emotionally neglected and always staying out of the chaos to avoid trouble.

• The Mascot – The clown, entertainer, or distractor who lightens the mood with jokes, humor, or charm.

• The Manipulator – The martyr or mastermind who stirs drama, controls others, or plays the victim to gain attention or resources.

(*It’s possible to be a blend of more than one role, too, which I’ll share more about in my next post.)

2️⃣ Even if siblings love each other, they often unconsciously uphold these roles into adulthood.

So when you see your siblings, you are not just seeing them—you are seeing the part of yourself that was forced into a role.

• If you were the scapegoat, seeing your sibling still trying to impress your parents might remind you of how alone you felt.

• If you were the caretaker, their refusal to take responsibility might ignite resentment.

• If you were the golden child, their emotional struggles might trigger guilt you don’t want to face.

3️⃣ And here’s the kicker—most families never acknowledge these roles outright. Which means when tensions rise, it feels personal rather than systemic.

Even in functional families, sibling relationships contain an underlying sense of competition—for attention, approval, resources, and love.

In emotionally immature families, this dynamic is amplified:

✔ Parents may have played siblings against each other (“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”).

✔ One sibling may have been given more emotional or financial support, leading to resentment.

✔ If one sibling was emotionally neglected, they may unconsciously resent the sibling who was favored—even if that sibling suffered in different ways.

These resentments can remain unspoken yet deeply felt, resurfacing in adult relationships as:

✔ Constant bickering and competition

✔ Subtle (or not-so-subtle) put-downs

✔ Feeling like you have to prove yourself or defend your choices

✔ A lack of trust, even when there is love

This is why being around siblings can make you feel like a child again—because the same survival strategies you used to “earn” love or protect yourself are still at play.

The Unspoken Agreement to “Keep the Family Narrative Intact”

Families function like a closed system—there are certain unspoken agreements about what can and cannot be acknowledged.

• If one sibling starts healing, setting boundaries, or speaking the truth, it can be seen as a threat to the entire system.

• Other siblings may feel like they have to pull you back in to maintain the “family order.”

• They may mock, dismiss, or invalidate your self-work, not because they don’t love you, but because if you change, it means they have to question things, too.

For example:

• If you decide you don’t want to engage in passive-aggressive jabs, but your siblings still do, you become an outsider in your own family dynamic.

• If you set boundaries with an emotionally immature parent, your siblings might resent you for rocking the boat—even if deep down, they wish they could do the same.

• If you recognize and name family trauma, siblings might push back hard, because acknowledging it threatens the survival strategies they still rely on.

This is why family gatherings can feel more draining than enjoyable—because you’re not just spending time together, you’re managing old dynamics that haven’t evolved.

Your nervous system reacts to siblings like it did in childhood.

Even if you’ve done deep healing work, your nervous system doesn’t forget.

If your siblings were dismissive, critical, or aggressive growing up, your body remembers that experience before your brain even processes it.

✔ You may feel anxious and hypervigilant around them, waiting for the next jab.

✔ You may find yourself reverting to old patterns like I did—shrinking, appeasing, and people-pleasing.

✔ You may notice a deep sadness or grief, because you wish things were different.

All of this can be confusing, because you’re not technically in danger. But your body doesn’t care about logic—it cares about past experience and protecting you from getting hurt again.

So, what can you do?

1️⃣ Recognize the patterns without taking any of it personally:

• Your siblings are not your parents, even if they repeat old dynamics.

• Their behavior is about them, not about you.

• You do not have to accept every invitation to an argument.

2️⃣ Honor your own boundaries:

• You don’t have to explain your choices to family members who won’t respect them.

• You can disengage from jabs, drama, or emotional manipulation.

• You can love them from a distance if necessary.

3️⃣ Grieve what has changed, or what never was:

• You might wish your sibling relationships were different—it’s okay to grieve that.

• Accepting that you may never feel fully understood by them can be painful, but also freeing.

4️⃣ Seek relationships that mirror the safety you desire:

• This is why spaces like Slow & Wild and Book Dommes exist—because healing happens in safe containers where you are truly seen and supported—and no topic is off limits.

The Beautiful (and Hard) Truth:

Siblings are not required to be our closest friends.

Some are. Some never will be.

Some change. Some don’t.

What is required is that we stop shrinking ourselves to fit inside an old story.

Because neither you nor I belong in the old family role anymore. We never really did.

To your embodied freedom,

💋 Kris (aka Venus)

P.S.

If you’re like me, you didn’t really feel the effects of the Mother and Father Wounds until the “wake-up” in adulthood. I’m writing about this next, going into the most common “activators” and mirrors of these wounds, and of course, how to heal them.