When the Cracks Are Quiet: The Pain of Being Silently Shunned
- Lisa Rooney
- Jul 25
- 6 min read
Updated: Aug 5

In my previous blog, “When Ohana Breaks”, I explored the heartbreak and nervous system dysregulation that comes from being outright excluded or shunned by a group or institution that once felt like home. I shared my personal experience and was amazed at how many of you reached out to express that you had experienced similar shunning. That kind of relational trauma is obvious. It’s loud. There’s often a clear line drawn in the sand.
But what about the quiet kind?
It really got me thinking about the depth of this wounding and other times in my life where I have been shunned.
I’ve always lived outside the bounds of what “the group” expects from me, so being shunned is a feeling I am all too familiar with - more than I even realized.
What do I mean by outside of the bounds?
In the way I choose to raise my kids, my choice for healthcare (homeopathy being one of the primary components of this), my constant questioning of the narrative or the way things are “supposed to be done”, even in my teen years I never understood some of “rules” of life and often rebelled against them.
What did that get me? Shunned…
- Shunned from my friend group because I wouldn’t go along with the crowd. 
- Shunned from the mom’s group because I wasn’t willing to inject my kids with terrible things. 
- Shunned from my family group because of the way I was raising my kids. 
- Shunned from a friend group because I use energy based healing modalities in my practice. 
- Shunned from the learning institution I spoke about in my previous blog. 
- Shunned in obvious ways and shunned in subtle ways. 
Being shunned doesn't always come in obvious ways. It’s sometimes the silent judgement you feel from the ones you love. You may not be kicked out of the group, but you're not fully accepted.
Today I want to explore a more subtle version of relational trauma that doesn’t always get named.
The Shunning You Don’t See Coming
It’s the kind of exclusion that happens in a smile, a shrug, a withheld invitation.
The kind that shows up as silence in the group text thread.
The kind that happens when someone looks away instead of leaning in.
You’re not officially cast out, but you’re also no longer held in the warmth of true belonging.
You’re tolerated, not cherished.
Present, but peripheral.
This is what I’ve come to call quiet shunning.
It’s a slow fade.
It’s the withholding of emotional presence.
It’s being technically included but no longer energetically embraced.
There’s no public confrontation, no clear offense.
Just a subtle shift in the relational field—like something essential was unplugged and no one told you.
You start second-guessing yourself:
- Did I say something wrong? 
- Am I being too sensitive? 
- Should I just try harder to fit in? 
And the answer, often, is no.
You’re simply no longer aligned with the unspoken rules of the group.
Quiet shunning is harder to name and harder to grieve—because it looks like everything is fine.
No one broke up with you. No one unfriended you. But you feel it in your nervous system.
Your body knows the disconnection.
And the heartbreak is compounded by how invisible it is.
There’s no “incident” to point to, just a mounting pile of small slights and emotional absences.
You learn to pretend it doesn’t hurt. You tell yourself you’re imagining it.
But over time, you shrink. You self-abandon. You contort just enough to stay close—but not so much that you lose yourself completely. And when you finally realize what’s happening, it’s devastating. Not just because you’ve been excluded, but because you’ve been slowly eroded.
A Personal Story: The Subtle Break
I didn’t realize that I was being shunned— that this was happening to me—because it was so subtle.
When my kids were little, I was part of a mom’s group.
We gathered nearly every day in community, letting our kids play while we shared coffee, conversation, and the sweet chaos of motherhood. I don’t even remember how we all initially came together. It just happened—organic, warm, natural.
But within a few months, something shifted. The energy changed.
And though I couldn’t quite name it at the time, I could feel it.
- A sideways glance here. 
- A tensing of the body there. 
- Slight, almost imperceptible cues that I was suddenly on the outside of something I had once felt inside of. 
Then slowly, the gatherings began happening without me.
The group texts grew quiet.
The “we’re just busy today” messages became more frequent—and more hollow.
What had caused the break?
Maybe it was a passing comment I made about using chiropractic care instead of antibiotics for an ear infection. Maybe it was my homemade baby food or my refusal to give my children certain injections. Maybe it was just the subtle, growing awareness that my lifestyle made others uncomfortable—because it reflected a different set of values than the mainstream.
Regardless of the exact trigger, the message was clear: You don’t belong here anymore.
And here’s the thing: I didn’t even know how much it hurt until much later.
At the time, I brushed it off. Told myself it was just life. But underneath, something inside me was eroding. Some small, quiet voice kept asking, What’s wrong with you, Lisa? Why don’t they want to include you anymore?
This is the power of quiet shunning—
It slips beneath your defenses and makes you question your worth.
It whispers that you are too much, too different, too outspoken.
And so, without realizing it, I went into a kind of emotional lockdown.
I began approaching new relationships with a bit more armor. A bit more caution. Holding back parts of myself to avoid rejection.
That’s what shunning can do.
It tells you that being fully yourself isn’t safe.
It teaches you to dim down before you even step into the room.
Turning the Pain Into Purpose
Instinctively, I knew I couldn’t raise my kids inside the box others wanted for me.
So I turned that pain into something beautiful.
At the time, there was an organization called the Holistic Moms Network. I joined and started a local chapter in my town.
At first, I just hoped for a couple of like-minded women. But what I found was an underground community—mothers who were quietly craving something more aligned with how they wanted to live and parent.
It healed me in ways I didn’t expect.
It helped me step out of the holistic closet.
It gave me a voice—and the courage to use it.
But even then, even inside that intentional community, judgment still crept in.
And yes… shunning still happened. Because the truth is: Wherever humans gather, so does fear, projection, and the pressure to conform.
Tools for Healing the Pain of Quiet Shunning
🌀 Nervous System Support
- Orienting Practice: Look around your space and find something calming or beautiful. Let your body register safety. 
- Gentle Movement & Sound: Sway. Stretch. Hum. Sigh. Let your body complete what your heart couldn’t say. 
- Mirror Work: Look into your own eyes and say: “You are worthy. You are whole. You don’t have to hide.” 
🪞 Coaching Prompts for Reflection
- Where in my life am I still shape-shifting to avoid rejection? 
- What parts of me have I silenced in order to belong? 
- What would it feel like to enter a group fully embodied in who I am? 
🌸 Energetic & Homeopathic Allies
- Natrum Muriaticum – for silent grief and rejection wounds 
- Ignatia – for acute heartbreak and emotional suppression 
- Larch (Bach Flower) – to rebuild self-worth 
- Walnut (Bach Flower) – to break old energetic ties and transition forward 
What’s Next…
In a future blog, I’ll share another painful chapter of my journey where I was shunned despite being completely open about my work, values, and healing path.
It was a friendship I believed to be safe—nurtured over more than two years—but turned out to be rooted in judgment, not truth.
Even with all my training, experience, and intuition, I didn’t see it coming.
And that is the thing about false belonging: it often masquerades as connection until your wholeness is no longer convenient for the other person.
But here’s what I want to leave you with today:
If this is your story too—if you’ve experienced the ache of quiet shunning—
you are not alone. There is nothing wrong with you.
You didn’t lose your belonging.
You outgrew the illusion of it.
False belonging is real. And it’s painful. But you don’t have to heal it alone.
Let’s Walk This Healing Path Together
As a trauma-informed coach and homeopathic consultant, I support clients in reclaiming their voice, rebuilding their nervous system, and finding real belonging again.
If this story resonates, and you’re ready to reconnect with yourself in a deeper way—
👉 Click here to learn more about working with me or simply hit reply to this email.
You’re not too much.
You’re not too sensitive.
You’re right on time.
