top of page

Hurt People Hurt People? Understanding Emotional Wounds Through Onko Chishin and Psychology

Updated: May 3

Japanese calligraphy reading “Onko Chishin,” meaning learning from the past to gain new insight, reflecting the blog theme of healing emotional wounds through reflection.

The Quiet Shock of Hearing “Hurt People Hurt People”


One day, an English friend said something that stayed with me:


“Hurt people hurt people.”

In Japanese, this means, “People who have been hurt go on to hurt others.”


When I first heard this phrase, I felt a quiet sense of shock.


I was surprised that the country I now call home had such a direct way of describing human pain.


Yet I also found something in it that I could not quite settle with.

To my ear, it almost seemed to place the weight of pain back onto those who had already been hurt.


“People who are wounded go on to wound others.”


Perhaps there is some truth in that.


And yet, there are also many people who carry their pain silently.

Some never hurt others at all. Instead, they turn their pain inward, holding it alone for years, unable to express it.


That is why I could not accept this phrase straight away.

It felt too quick, too tidy, for something as complex as a wounded heart.


As I studied counselling, reflected on my own experiences, and listened more deeply to the emotional lives of others, I gradually began to see this phrase from another angle.


It does not mean that hurt people are bad.

Rather, it suggests that emotional wounds left unattended can sometimes appear in our relationships in ways we do not expect.


Even so, I do not believe this phrase tells the whole story.


Pain can make a person guarded.

But it can also deepen sensitivity, compassion, and the quiet ability to recognise pain in others.


So, what happens to pain as it moves through us over time?


When I sit with this question, the Japanese phrase **Onko Chishin** comes to mind.



What Is Onko Chishin? Learning from the Past to Gain New Understanding


Onko Chishin (温故知新) is a Japanese expression often translated as “learning from the past to gain new knowledge or insight”.


It refers to the idea of revisiting old teachings, past experiences, or inherited wisdom, and allowing them to bring new understanding in the present.


It is a concept that has long been valued in Japan.


As a Japanese counsellor living in the UK, I see this idea as something that can also speak to healing emotional wounds.


Looking back at the past does not mean simply remembering what happened.

Nor does it mean forcing ourselves to give painful experiences a beautiful or positive meaning.


Rather, it can mean asking:


What was I feeling at that time?

What did I feel I had lost?

What was I trying to protect?

What did I long for someone to understand?


To revisit the past in this way is not to return to it.

It is to look at it again through the eyes of who we are now.


Emotional wounds do not always disappear simply because time has passed.


Even when we believe we have forgotten them, they can quietly reappear in similar situations, in certain words, or in the way we respond to closeness and distance in relationships.


This is why looking back can matter.


Not because we want to live in the past, but because we want to understand ourselves more deeply in the present.


A painful memory may slowly become not only something that hurts us, but also something that helps us understand ourselves.


Perhaps this is what Onko Chishin can mean for the heart.


Why Emotional Wounds Show Up in Relationships


Pain Does Not Always Appear as Sadness


Emotional wounds do not always appear as sadness.


Sometimes loneliness comes out as anger.

Sometimes fear becomes criticism.

Sometimes the longing to be close turns into distance.


For example, if someone has experienced rejection from an important person in the past, even a short silence or a delayed reply in a present relationship may bring up intense anxiety.


If someone has been betrayed before, they may find themselves reading hidden meanings into ordinary words.


If a person’s feelings were often dismissed in childhood, they may grow up believing, “Even if I speak, no one will really understand.”


These reactions are not always chosen consciously.


Often, the mind and body remember an old pain and move into protection before we have time to think.


We may believe we are reacting only to the person in front of us.

But sometimes, the past is quietly standing there too.


Behind the Act of Hurting Others, There May Be a Part of Us That Was Never Protected


The phrase “hurt people hurt people” can sound cold when taken at face value.


But from a psychological perspective, behind these reactions, there may be a part of the self that was never properly protected.


The part that wanted help.

The part that wanted to cry.

The part that wanted to be cherished.

The part that had to hide those feelings deep inside, because there was no safe place to express them.


When this part is touched, we may react more strongly than the situation seems to call for.


A casual comment from someone may hurt more than expected.

Anger may rise suddenly.

Even when the other person did not intend to harm us, something inside may whisper, “It is happening again.”


In that moment, a person may try to protect themselves by blaming, withdrawing, or even damaging a relationship they actually care about.


Of course, this does not mean it is acceptable to hurt others.


But when we begin to notice the pain beneath the behaviour, something shifts.


We no longer have to look only through the lens of blame.

A new kind of understanding becomes possible.


“Why did I react like that?”

“What was I really afraid of?”

“What was I trying to protect?”


Asking these questions is not about excusing our behaviour.


It is about taking responsibility while also listening to the deeper voice of the heart.



Can Hurt People Become Kinder?


In Japanese culture, there is also another way of seeing this:

that people who have been hurt can become kinder.


Because we have known pain, we may become more aware of pain in others.

Because we have known loneliness, we may notice the quiet struggle of someone trying to cope alone.

Because we have carried sadness that could not easily be put into words, we may learn the value of simply being present, rather than rushing to encourage or fix.


I believe there is a deep truth in this too.


Being hurt can close a person down.

But it can also deepen the heart.


We may become more sensitive to small changes in someone’s expression.

We may stop saying “You’ll be fine” too quickly.

We may become less likely to dismiss another person’s vulnerability.


This may be a quiet form of kindness that grows from having known pain.


However, it is important not to turn this into another pressure.


Being hurt does not mean we must immediately become kind for someone else’s sake.

It does not mean we must rush to find meaning in our suffering.


It is natural to still feel anger, sadness, confusion, or grief.


True kindness is not born from suppressing our own pain.


It begins when we are able to notice our own emotional wounds and treat them with care.

Only then can we turn towards the pain of others without losing ourselves in the process.


“Hurt people hurt people.”

“Hurt people can become more compassionate.”


Perhaps these two are not opposites.


Perhaps they reflect two different possibilities that can grow from the same emotional wound.



What Living Between Cultures Has Taught Me About Emotional Wounds


Having lived in the UK for many years, I have often noticed differences between cultures in the way emotions are expressed, held, or hidden.


In English-speaking contexts, expressing one’s feelings and asking for help when needed is often seen as a natural part of emotional wellbeing.


In Japan, there has traditionally been a greater emphasis on considering others, reading the atmosphere, and processing feelings inwardly.


Neither way is simply right or wrong.


But when we live outside the culture we grew up in, we may find ourselves caught between different ways of being.


“Should I express my feelings more directly here?”

“But will I be seen as selfish if I say too much?”

“I could explain this in my first language, but I cannot quite find the words here.”

“Am I weak for feeling hurt by something like this?”


Living between cultures is not only about learning a language or adapting to different customs.


It can also mean continually re-examining how we hold our emotions, how close or distant we feel allowed to be, and how much of ourselves we can safely show.


This is why, for many people living away from their home culture, emotional wounds can become harder to recognise.


We keep going, adapting, translating, managing — without quite knowing what we are tired from, or what is hurting.


Healing, in this context, often begins simply with permission to notice.



What Onko Chishin Has Meant in My Own Life


I have also experienced events in my life that deeply shook my heart.


One of them was divorce.


At the time, many emotions tangled together inside me:

grief, self-blame, confusion, anxiety, loneliness, and questions I could not easily answer.


What had been right?

Where had things changed?

Was there something lacking in me?


These questions circled in my mind, again and again.


I did not move forward straight away.

I did not neatly organise my feelings and then simply heal.


Rather, I would think I had understood something, only to feel shaken again.

I would think I had accepted it, only to find another layer of pain.


But through that process, I gradually began to want to understand the human heart more deeply.


Studying counselling became not only a way to support others, but also a way of understanding myself.


Looking back now, I feel that the experience was not simply a pain I left behind in the past.


It became a part of my life that brought new awareness to who I am today.


Over time, I began to see how desperately I had been trying, how much I had longed for safety, and how much I had needed to feel emotionally held.


That was my own quiet experience of Onko Chishin.


Not looking back in order to blame the past, but looking back in order to understand myself more deeply.


And through that, the way I saw myself slowly began to change.



Connecting Past Wounds to the Person We Are Becoming


Emotional wounds can cast a shadow over the way we relate to others.


We may react strongly to someone’s words.

We may feel afraid of closeness, even in relationships that matter to us.

We may want to trust someone, yet find ourselves quietly doubting.

We may not understand why something feels so painful.


In those moments, before turning to self-blame, it may help to pause gently and ask:


“What am I reacting to right now?”

“Could this feeling be connected to an older pain?”

“What am I trying to protect?”


These questions do not keep us trapped in the past.


Rather, they help us stop being unconsciously led by old experiences, so that we can begin to choose differently in the present.


Onko Chishin is not about looking back with nostalgia.


It is about taking what the past has taught us and allowing it to inform how we live now and in the future.


The question of how we respond to wounds is not limited to individual hearts.


When we look at history, we see that people and societies have often carried deep pain, and have repeatedly faced the question of whether to turn that pain towards hatred and revenge, or towards dialogue, coexistence, and learning.


Of course, we cannot simply call great sorrow “meaningful”.

That would be too easy, and at times too painful.


But perhaps there is something profoundly human in the wish not to leave pain enclosed only as pain.


To carry the past in a way that helps shape future choices — this, too, feels close to the spirit of Onko Chishin.


Emotional wounds, when revisited with care, may gradually become not only a source of self-blame, but a doorway into self-understanding.


Hurt people may sometimes hurt people.


But a painful experience may also grow into a tenderness that helps us recognise pain in others.


Perhaps the difference is not whether we have wounds, but whether we are able to notice them, understand them, and slowly learn how to live with them.


And that journey does not have to be walked alone.



🌿 A Small Step for You: Free 30-Minute Online Introductory Session


If, while reading this article, you found yourself thinking about past experiences or repeated patterns in your relationships, you may wish to pause for a moment.


Perhaps you find yourself feeling deeply hurt by someone’s words.

Perhaps you want to speak calmly, but your words come out more sharply than you intended.

Perhaps you long for closeness, but fear makes you step away.

Perhaps you feel as though the same relational patterns keep returning, no matter how hard you try.


Beneath these reactions, there may be old emotional wounds that have not yet been fully seen or understood.


This does not mean you are weak or immature.


It may simply be that your heart has been quietly trying to protect you for a long time.


Counselling is not a place where you have to blame the past.


Nor is it a place where you must force painful experiences to have meaning.


Rather, in the spirit of Onko Chishin, it can be a quiet space to look back at your experiences through the eyes of who you are now, and to begin understanding yourself with greater compassion.


You may be wondering:


“Is this really something I can talk about?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it well.”

“I haven’t sorted out my feelings yet.”


You do not need to have everything neatly arranged before reaching out.


Especially when living away from your home culture, the layers of language, identity, belonging, and emotional distance can make it easy to keep going alone, without quite noticing how tired or hurt you have become.


By the time you do notice, your feelings may feel tangled, and you may not know where to begin.


In a free 30-minute online introductory session, there is no need to explain everything in order.


You do not need to have a serious problem.

You do not need to know exactly what you want to say.


If questions like these have quietly come to mind —


“Why did that comment affect me so deeply?”

“Why do I keep struggling in similar relational patterns?”

“How can I bring my past experiences gently into the person I am becoming?”


— then this can be a gentle place to begin.


When you feel, even just a little, that you might like to speak with someone, you are warmly welcome to come at your own pace.


[🔽 If you’d like to, you can book your free 30-minute online introductory session here]


※ If you would simply like to get a sense of the atmosphere, or if you are still unsure, you are very welcome to use this space without pressure.


 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page