There is a particular kind of pain that is difficult to name, especially for high functioning women. It doesn’t erupt loudly or draw attention. It sits quietly behind competence, buried beneath the weight of responsibility and the appearance of having it all together. Many high functioning women carry this pain. They move through life with purpose, with structure, with care. They succeed, hold others, show up. And somewhere along the way, they become very good at surviving. But surviving and living are not the same thing.

The Performance of Strength

We are often praised for our strength. For being reliable, knowing what to do, For picking ourselves up and continuing. And yet, strength can sometimes be a mask. A mask worn so often and so convincingly that even the wearer forgets it’s there. Underneath, there may be something else. A weariness. A sense of disconnection. A feeling of being emotionally flat or oddly absent, even in moments that are meant to feel fulfilling. It can be disorienting. Nothing is obviously wrong. On paper, everything might look ideal. And yet, there’s a subtle but persistent feeling: something isn’t right.

Early Adaptations, Adult Cost

Often, this quiet unease has its roots in the past. In families where emotions were dismissed, or where chaos taught a child to stay small and out of the way. It can be in environments where needs were unmet, boundaries were blurred, or silence was safer than truth. Or perhaps in experiences that weren’t necessarily called “trauma,” but that left behind a residue all the same.

As children, we adapt and learn to be pleasing, competent, invisible, self-sufficient—whatever earns approval or keeps us safe. But the adaptations that protect us in childhood can become constraints in adulthood. The woman who became highly capable may find it difficult to receive care. The one who learned to stay calm in crisis may struggle to know what she feels. The one who never caused trouble may feel her own needs as intrusive or shameful. This isn’t dysfunction. It’s loyalty. The body, the mind, the psyche—all doing what they were taught to do.

What Disconnection Can Feel Like for High Functioning Women 

Emotional disconnection is rarely dramatic. It’s often felt in moments that pass unnoticed:

• Losing time or drifting through the day in a fog
• Smiling and responding while feeling strangely distant inside
• Feeling responsible for everyone else, yet unsure how to ask for anything yourself
• Constantly anticipating others’ reactions or needs, while being out of touch with your own
• A chronic sense of being “outside” of your life—observing it, but not in it

These are not signs of failure. They are signs of adaptation. Signs of a nervous system that once needed to fragment in order to survive.

Dissociation: The Quiet Survival Strategy

One of the most common—but often misunderstood—responses to relational trauma is dissociation. It can be as subtle as zoning out, emotionally numbing, or feeling physically removed from one’s own body. It can feel like a distancing from one’s life, relationships, or even selfhood.

For many high functioning women, dissociation is not dramatic. It’s woven into the fabric of coping. It’s what allows you to hold things together. To focus, achieve, care for others, and keep going. And yet, over time, that distance can become unbearable. Life can start to feel muted, unanchored, or strangely unreal. In these moments, it can be easy to blame yourself. To think: I should be grateful. I have so much. Why can’t I feel it? But this isn’t about gratitude. It’s about fragmentation. It’s about how the psyche has protected itself—often brilliantly—but at a cost.

Shame, Silence, and the Inner Critic

Where there is dissociation, there is often shame. Not the loud kind that flares up when something goes wrong, but a quiet, enduring sense of not quite being right. Of being too much, or not enough. Of not being entitled to your own pain. Shame can keep people silent. It can convince you that you’re the only one who feels this way. That others wouldn’t understand. That you should be able to fix it yourself. And so, the cycle continues: high functioning on the outside, self-erasing on the inside. But shame is not truth. It’s a learned response to being unmet. And like all learned responses, it can soften in the presence of something different.

The Work of Reconnection

Reconnection is not an event. It’s a slow return. A movement toward the parts of yourself that have been cut off, buried, or blurred. This might include reconnecting with your body, your emotional world, your boundaries, your voice, or your younger self. It may mean learning to feel again—not just safely, but fully. It may involve grief. Grief for what was missed, what was endured, what was internalised. It may involve rage. A clean, clarifying rage that was once too dangerous to feel. And it often involves confusion. Because this isn’t linear work. There is no single path back. But there is a path—and it can be walked slowly, gently, in the company of someone who doesn’t need you to be “fine.”

Let This Be Enough for Now

This piece isn’t a prescription. It isn’t a call to action. It’s simply a reflection—on how easily pain can be hidden behind competence, and how often high functioning women are quietly carrying the weight of untold stories. If you recognise yourself in any of this, let that recognition be enough for now. You are not the only one. You are not imagining it. And you are not too late to begin listening to the parts of yourself that have long been waiting.

Counselling and Psychotherapy can help. Asking for help takes courage and can be the first step in healing.

Related articles:

https://theravadawellness.com/high-functioning-women-and-trauma/