Learning to let joy in
Reflections on how childhood experiences shape our capacity for joy
Have you ever felt like a part of you just can’t seem to truly relax into fun or embrace moments of joy for very long? Maybe, at times, you can switch off, but often, even in joyful moments, you find yourself flooded with thoughts about what you need to do or what you’re not doing enough of. If so, know that you’re not alone. I can relate to this deeply.
Where did this exploration begin?
I remember being on holiday in Johannesburg, standing on the balcony of my Airbnb and looking up at the moon in awe of how majestic the view was. It was beautiful and peaceful, a moment I had been longing for. And yet, I felt flooded with thoughts about everything I needed to do and resolve in my life. I could only embrace the moment briefly before my mind pulled me back into worry and responsibility.
This was the holiday I had looked forward to, the trip I hoped would help me let go and enjoy myself. The environment had changed, but my emotional and mental state had not. That was the moment I realised there is a part of me that struggles to fully experience joy.
This is just one example, but it stands out because I can remember the view, the feeling in my body, and the exact thoughts in my mind. It was then that my unconscious patterns began to surface into awareness, showing me that something deeper was at play, something rooted in my past that still needed healing.
Why is joy so hard sometimes? A personal reflection.
Many factors have contributed to my difficulty in allowing myself to relax and have fun. Growing up poor created a deep fear of not having enough, which often shows up as anxiety in moments of rest. There is a lingering sense that I must always be doing something. To do very little felt dangerous, like a return to instability. I lived by the motto “If I’m not grinding, I’m not living”.
Capitalism plays a role, too. We are often taught that our worth is tied to productivity, that rest must be earned, and that we must always be useful in order to be valuable. These messages seep into our nervous systems and shape how safe we feel when we are not ‘doing’.
But what I want to focus on here is how relationships with emotionally immature parents can impact our capacity to experience joy.
The relationships we have with our caregivers in early life create a blueprint for how we see ourselves, others, and the world. In my case, having two parents who were emotionally dysregulated, traumatised, and struggling with their own mental health meant that I learned early on to become hypervigilant. They lacked emotional regulation, communication skills, and healthy relationships with themselves and others. As a child, I learned that to survive in this environment, I had to stay alert.
I began monitoring my behaviour in private and in public. I adopted a serious, contained persona, trying to create order in the midst of uncertainty, impulsivity, and chaos. I learned that relationships were unpredictable and emotionally unsafe, so I became controlled, responsible, and watchful.
In attachment theory, having a secure base means being able to explore, play, and have fun, knowing that your caregiver will be okay and that you will be okay, even in their absence. That was not my experience. There was always a sense of what might happen if I relaxed, if I let my guard down, if I allowed myself to fully enjoy the moment. As a result, I could not fully surrender to joy. The seeds planted in childhood followed me into adulthood.
I want to say this honestly: things are much better now. It has taken years of therapy, deep self-reflection, and becoming a therapist myself to work through this. And I am still learning.
If you experience this too, know that you are not alone. Learning how to have fun and experience joy might sound simple, but for some of us, it is a real and valid struggle. And it is one you can move through.
If you relate, here are a few things that have helped me:
Notice what happens when joy appears. Zoom in on moments when you are having fun but struggle to stay present. Pay attention to what your mind is saying and what your body is feeling. Ask yourself what you might be trying to escape from in that moment. Often, when we pause and check in, we begin to understand the deeper story beneath our reactions.
Reframe joy as meaningful work. Joy is not wasteful. It is restorative. It brings balance to your nervous system, your relationships, and your wider ecosystem. Joy is not optional. If your ancestors lived in survival mode, your journey toward joy may be about breaking that cycle and honouring ease, pleasure, and rest. Your joy can become medicine for past and future generations.
See this struggle as a ‘part’ of you rather than something that is wrong with you. You might even give it a name, like “Stressed Samantha.” Get curious about what this part is trying to protect you from, what it needs, and how you can reassure it. Approaching yourself with compassion changes everything.
Offer yourself affirmations. You might gently remind yourself, “I am deserving of enjoyment,” “Joy is my birthright,” or “When I experience joy, I am healing myself and my lineage”. Over time, these messages begin to soften old beliefs.
Consider therapy as support. Therapy can help you explore your family history, culture, and structural experiences, and how they shape your present. It offers space to process emotions, integrate experiences, and build internal safety. If you would like a free introductory call with me to see how I can help you with this, you can book here.
If any of this resonates with you, I would love to hear your reflections. Thank you for reading, and until next time, take care!
Love, Ash x



Thank you for this. It puts a lot into perspective. When I experience joy I’m immersed, but not so much when it comes to happiness. To some they’re the same but I experience them differently. Wow…this was right on time!
Love this, Ash! Thanks for sharing, definitely gives me a lot to think about.