From Mural to Mirror: A Healing Reflection Sparked at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute
- Jerusalem Brown, LPC, NCC
- Mar 27
- 8 min read
You Didn’t Imagine It — You Grew Up on Functional (Bare Minimum) Love, But You Can Give Yourself More Now
Inspired by the “Culture on Canvas” mural event at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, this post explores what happens when we learn to give ourselves the love we never received.
I didn’t grow up with special Saturdays. No museum trips “just because,” no spontaneous outings that whispered, “I see you. I enjoy you. I want to make memories with you.” I grew up with functional memories, not intentional ones. And now, like so many of us, I’m learning that being provided for is not the same as being cherished.
***A Note from the Heart: This Isn’t Parent-Bashing—It’s Pattern-Breaking
Before we go any further, I want to be clear: This post isn’t about blaming or bashing our parents. It’s about understanding the emotional patterns we inherited so we can begin to heal—with clarity, not shame.
I recognize that my parents likely didn’t receive the kind of love, attention, or emotional presence they needed either. They passed down what they knew—what survival taught them. And I hold that truth with compassion.
But compassion doesn’t cancel truth. And here at Mental Health Monarchs, we believe you can honor your roots and still name where they fell short.
Talking about our parents often puts us in the hot seat. We get labeled as ungrateful, dramatic, or disrespectful. But here, we speak the truth anyway—not to dwell in pain, but to finally move toward peace, personal power, and emotional restoration.
Healing isn't about blaming the past; it's about breaking free from it—with tenderness, accountability, and the courage to do better—for ourselves and the generations that follow.
Let's get into it!
Legacy in Living Color
This past Saturday, I attended the “Culture on Canvas Interactive Paint Series” at the Civil Rights Institute in Birmingham, AL, hosted by Willie Williams, owner of Studio.twenty.five.00. A community of beautiful, brown faces came together to co-create a collaborative art mural honoring the women of the 1963 Selma Civil Rights Movement. Culture on Canvas is part of Mr. Williams's larger mission: to provide an artistic space for healing, connection, and community—for people of all ages and backgrounds.
I signed up simply because I thought it sounded cool—and I’ve been intentionally seeking out experiences that pour back into me during this season of life.
Want to see what legacy love looks like in action? 👇🏾Check out the event recap below, and show some love by following @studio.twenty.five.00 on Instagram.
The energy, art, and camaraderie were refreshing, but what truly inspired me was the sight of Black mothers actively painting with their children—talking, laughing, asking them questions, and showing them that their voices and creativity mattered.
Honestly, it brought me joy; it made me smile, but it also made me ache. What I witnessed brought my childhood truth to the surface again—but this time, with a clarity I didn’t have back then.
Growing up, I never experienced what it felt like to be emotionally considered, to have my joy thoughtfully invested in—that was foreign to me—but witnessing it in real-time? That was a gift I didn’t expect!
Presence, Love, and What I Never Knew I Missed
Seeing mothers fully present and pouring into children at the event made me reflect on the difference between merely functional and deeply intentional love.
Hear me out. Many of us were raised on functional love, aka "bare minimum love" (versus intentional love). Yes, we had food, clothes, and shelter, and we might’ve gone to church or school events (all of which we feel grateful for), but those weren’t planned with us in mind. They were simply part of the script. No one asked what lit us up, no one paused to celebrate who we were becoming, and/or no one was curious about who we were inside as long as we were "well-behaved, manageable, or unproblematic."
Flourishing love, on the other hand, sees you as a person. It asks questions, it plans joy, and it doesn’t just sustain—it nourishes.
Breaking the Cycle Without a Blueprint
Sometimes, we try to give others what we never received, hoping it will land softer than it ever did for us. I know that feeling firsthand.
Until a few weeks ago, I made it a point to plan things with my daughter in a way that communicated, “I'm thinking of you.” Concerts, mother-daughter dinner dates, and museum days were beautiful moments where I could say with my actions, “You are someone I consider and with whom I want to share experiences and enjoy life.”
In hindsight, she didn’t always understand the weight of those moments. And at times, she’d say, “We’ve never vacationed together.” And you know what? She’s right. Because, at this big age, I never learned how to vacation. I never saw it modeled. I didn’t grow up with summer vacations, special days outside (of my birthday), or special moments and/or memories curated consistently. I grew up on survival time, not leisure time. Can you relate?
But I’ve come to accept that what I gave my daughter was still more than I received. And now, I’m learning to give myself what I didn't get and couldn't give her then. Healing happens when we stop waiting for permission to create joy and start choosing it for ourselves and our inner child.
So, these days, I plan things with me in mind. I take myself on outings. I try new experiences. I pour joy into my own cup—not to “make up” for anything but to remind my inner child: You deserved this all along. And it’s not too late.
The Lingering Impact: How Overlooked Kids Become Uncertain Adults
Even when we give others more than we've had, the wounds of emotional neglect don’t vanish. They linger—in how we show up, connect, and question our place in people’s lives. Invisible neglect doesn’t always look like abuse. Sometimes, it’s just silence, indifference, or a failure to attune to your emotional needs.
When your feelings were never prioritized as a child, you may have grown up unsure how to socialize. This shows up in relationships, friendships, the workplace, and, most painfully, in the mirror. Why? Because you probably didn’t learn to trust that your presence was/is wanted. You might shrink in conversations, over-apologize in group settings, or constantly second-guess whether you belong.
In relationships, you may mistake being tolerated—or overlooked—for being loved. In friendships, you might become the emotional caretaker while ignoring your own needs. At work, you could overachieve, hoping that being productive will finally earn you the attention you never received for simply existing.
Because that’s what you’re used to! And when you look in the mirror, you may not see someone who’s “enough.” You may see someone who still feels invisible—trying to prove their worth by being chosen, remembered, or considered because you learned that doing and performing was what made you lovable.
But here’s the truth:
Your worth isn’t debatable. It never was. You don’t have to earn the love you were always worthy of. You can start learning how to receive it now—but first, from yourself (because while we can’t go back and rewrite the past, our present awareness gives us something just as powerful: self-understanding and the ability to choose differently!).
Self-Assessment: Were You Poured Into or Just Provided For?
Before we go further, let’s pause for an honest moment of reflection.
The following chart isn’t meant to judge or demonize our caregivers. Many of them were doing their best with what they knew—often while carrying their own unhealed wounds. They didn't have the tools to think or ask: "How does my child feel today? What lights them up? What makes them feel emotionally safe, seen, or celebrated?"
Experiencing survival-based parenting can leave emotional gaps that show up in adulthood. This self-assessment is here to help you explore the emotional climate you were raised in and how that shaped your understanding of love, worth, and connection.
It’s not about blame. It’s about understanding your blueprint—so you can begin rewriting it.
Take a deep breath. Read each side slowly. Notice what feels familiar. Let awareness—not shame—be your teacher.
Households That Operated on Intentional Love | Households That Operated on Functional, Bare Minimum Love |
Planned bonding time just for connection | Focused only on functional tasks (homework, chores, church, etc.) |
Asked children how they felt | Rarely asked about emotions |
Remembered and celebrated unique interests | Ignored or downplayed individuality |
Created rituals of joy | Left joy to chance |
Nurtured emotional safety and curiosity | Prioritized obedience and image |
Treated children as people to know | Treated children as extensions of the parent |
Encouraged expression and play | Prioritized rules and structure |
Modeled empathy and emotional availability | Expected emotional stoicism |
Showed delight in the child’s presence | Focused on behavior or performance |
Spoke words of affirmation | Love was assumed, not expressed |
What This Means for You Now
If you resonated more with the “functional, bare minimum” column, take a moment to breathe. This doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you were under-nurtured.
You weren’t too needy. You weren’t asking for too much. You longed for things you deserved—emotional presence, connection, and care. And now, as an adult, you have the power to start tending to those needs with intention.
This awareness isn’t here to shame your parents or your past but to liberate you. Because once you can name what was missing, you can stop pretending it didn’t matter, and you can start giving yourself what your parents didn't know how to give. You were always worth more than just being managed. You were meant to be known. To be enjoyed. To be poured into. And now? You get to begin again—with love, clarity, and yourself at the center.
Your Turn to Pour In: Journal Prompts for Inner Child Reclamation
Take your time with these. You may want to light a candle, sit with music, or even let your inner child respond directly.
Download the FREE Functional Love vs. Intentional Love Reflection Table for Your Inner Child below!
You Can Still Choose Yourself
This work isn’t about blame—it’s about self-reclamation. The love you didn’t receive then? You can offer it now, one experience at a time. That’s what I’ve been doing for myself lately. Art murals. Energy readings. Photography walks. Exploring restaurants and trying cuisine I've never tried. Not to impress anyone. Not to “fix” what happened. But to whisper to my inner child: You matter. You didn’t deserve to be overlooked. Let’s make memories. Because even if no one ever asked, “What would make you feel special?”—you can ask yourself that NOW.
Crowning Thoughts: From Overlooked to Overflowing
The most beautiful part of this journey is realizing you were never a problem—you were just never prioritized (emotionally). But now, you get to change that. Paint your mural, book a solo outing, smile at your reflection, and love on yourself without needing permission.
You didn’t imagine the neglect, but you also don’t have to imagine the healing. It’s yours now, and baby, it’s just getting started!
This mural event wasn’t just art—it was healing. Hosted by Willie Williams of Studio.twenty.five.00, Culture on Canvas is part of his larger mission: to provide an artistic space for healing, connection, and community—for people of all ages and backgrounds. Through every brushstroke and gathering, his work reminds us that art isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about creating a sense of healing and belonging.
Show your support and follow @studio.twenty.five.00 to experience the community-building magic for yourself.
Before you go, you know I can't leave a post without sharing music!Enjoy this classic gem: “Love Is” by Maze feat. Frankie Beverly. 🎵 Let it wash over you like a warm memory—or the one you’re building now.
If this post speaks to you in any way, drop a comment below.💬 What did it bring up for you? What are you learning about the kind of love you needed—and the kind you're ready to give yourself now?
🖤 Your voice belongs here. This space was curated with you in mind.
Have you downloaded your free Inner Child reflection table yet!? Grab it below and give yourself space to reconnect with what you needed—and still deserve.
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