From Magical Thinking to Self-Forgiveness

From Magical Thinking to Self-Forgiveness: Breaking Free from Generational Grief

“Experience has taught us that we have only one enduring weapon in our struggle against mental illness: the emotional discovery and emotional acceptance of the truth in the individual and unique history of our childhood.” – Alice Miller

The Birth of Magical Thinking

I was eight years old, sitting at my desk with homework, when I first learned that love could mean making yourself invisible. My father had come home from another difficult day, carrying shadows I couldn’t name—the weight of war memories, his own father’s early death, disappointments that had nowhere to go but inward. He closed the kitchen door and spent the next hour alone.

It was almost a daily ritual: my mother in her sewing corner, my brother absorbed in his own world, and me with my math problems. No talking. No connection. Each of us isolated in our separate silence.

And in that silence, my eight-year-old mind made a fateful calculation: If I’m perfect enough, quiet enough, good enough, Dad won’t hurt. Mom won’t argue. If I can just solve this equation correctly, maybe I can solve what’s wrong in our house.

This is a concrete first memory I have that pinpoints the syndrome, but I believe it was there way before the age of eight—it was there from day one. Not something I can put in words but in the space between them.

That is the birth of magical thinking—the child’s belief that we have power over what we cannot control, that our behavior can alter realities far beyond us. What I didn’t understand then was how this innocent survival strategy would follow me into adulthood, slowly hardening into what I now understand as Internalized Blame of Self (IBS)—the grown-up echo of a child’s impossible bargain.

Understanding Child’s Magical Thinking: The Research and Reality

What Developmental Psychology Tells Us

“The child in us is always alive, and it is that child who often drives our deepest fears and hopes.” — Alice Miller

Magical thinking is a normal part of child development, typically emerging around ages 2-7. Jean Piaget called this the “preoperational stage,” where children believe their thoughts and actions can influence external events in impossible ways.

For most children, this manifests innocently—believing their teddy bear has feelings, imagining they caused the rain by feeling sad, or thinking they can fly if they wish hard enough. It’s the mind’s way of making sense of a confusing world before logical thinking develops.

But for children in dysfunctional families, magical thinking becomes something darker and more persistent. When faced with situations beyond their control—a parent’s addiction, depression, rage, or emotional absence—the child’s mind creates a story that gives them imaginary power: “This is happening because of something I did or didn’t do.”

The Survival Function of Magical Thinking

Child psychologist John Bradshaw explained why this distortion persists: if the problem is me, then I can fix it. This gives the powerless child a sense of agency, even if it’s false. It’s less terrifying to believe “I caused this” than to face the truth: “The adults I depend on are struggling with forces I cannot influence or understand.”

Dr. Alice Miller, in her groundbreaking work on childhood trauma, identified how this magical thinking serves as psychological protection. The child cannot afford to see their caregivers as fallible or unavailable. Survival depends on believing the adults are fundamentally safe, which means any problems must somehow originate with the child.

➡️ In her classic book The Drama of the Gifted Child, Alice Miller explains how children internalize blame to preserve the illusion of parental stability.

When Magical Thinking Becomes a Prison

What begins as adaptive behavior can calcify into Internalized Blame of Self. But magical thinking doesn’t always manifest as compliance and people-pleasing. Sometimes it erupts as rebellion—another form of the same desperate attempt to control the uncontrollable.

In my teenage years, something in me exploded. The child who had been so careful, so invisible, suddenly needed to carve his own way, to reject anything that felt like constraint. The discovery of sexuality made the world feel more bearable, but there was something deeper driving my rebellion: the need to be alone, to get away, to prove I didn’t need anyone.

During those years, I became my mother’s confidant. I had a close look at the longing for love she so desperately desired and the lengths she went to find it. I became the keeper of secrets I felt deeply honored to hold, but which also complicated my perspective of my father, manhood, loyalty, sex, love, and of course, the burden of secrets themselves.

This triangulated position—caught between my parents’ unspoken truths—only deepened my magical thinking. Now I wasn’t just responsible for fixing the family dynamics I could see, but also for managing the hidden emotional currents I alone seemed to witness. The rebellion wasn’t just against constraint—it was against the impossible weight of being the family’s secret-keeper.

This rebellion followed me into adulthood. At eighteen, I joined the military and never returned to live at my parents’ home. At twenty-seven, I left Israel for Los Angeles—ostensibly to find new horizons, but in truth, to escape. The same magical thinking that once whispered, “If I’m perfect enough, I can fix this,” now declared, “If I can just get far enough away, independent enough, I can control my own destiny.”

Both the compliant child and the rebellious adult were operating from the same core belief: I have the power to control my emotional safety through my behavior. One strategy was hypervigilance and fixing; the other was distance and defiance. Both were attempts to manage what couldn’t be managed.

The magical thinking persists because it served us once. Even when our rational minds know better, the emotional brain continues operating from the child’s logic—whether that’s “If I can just figure out what I’m doing wrong, I can make it right” or “If I can just get far enough away, I’ll finally be safe.”

Seeing the Generational Thread

“Pain travels through family lines until someone is ready to feel it and heal it in themselves.” — Unknown

The Discovery That Changed Everything

Somewhere along my journey, I started looking deeper. I had a need to figure it out. I had help—my ex-wife was extremely encouraging, I found a community, and I was in therapy. For many years I crawled through the process like trying to swim in a mud bath. But I also had moments of triumph. I delved into making art, which gave me great solace. And I became a father, which presented a chance for attempting correction.

At the relatively young age of fifty-three, I got a cancer diagnosis—probably a reflection of my inner turmoil and anger. I dealt with it, and three years later I was declared cancer-free. I still am. I live differently now. I have love in my life. I walk and swim on most days. I dance. Simply put, I try my utmost to do one thing right—show up, because unless I do, no change has a chance.

But I still carry the weight of inherited grief. This isn’t just historical awareness—it is personal, cellular, living in my body and shaping my worldview.

The real “aha moment” wasn’t about recognizing that I carried this grief—it was discovering my part in it. The devastating question that emerged was: What role was I playing in keeping this generational trauma alive? How was my own magical thinking contributing to the very patterns I thought I was honoring?

The answer was both simple and shocking: I had been living in the grief as if it were my responsibility to carry it perfectly, to never let it go, to somehow make meaning from the unmeaningful through my own suffering.

This is how generational grief works: it doesn’t just pass down as story or memory—it passes down as a sense of cosmic responsibility, as if our personal pain or perfection could somehow retroactively heal what came before us.

➡️ I explore this more deeply in my essay Holocaust Memory Through Art, where I show how grief and memory find expression in creative forms and how art becomes a path toward healing.

Now, as a father of three adult children—one biological and two I was gifted—I often reflect on what of this grief may have reached them. I talk with them openly, sharing both my struggles and awakenings. They are loving and attentive, excellent listeners. Still, I wonder: how much of my inherited burden have they absorbed, and how can I support them in facing whatever surfaces in their own lives? I see this as my responsibility as a father—yet I also strive, as best I can, to respect their boundaries and give them space to carry only what is truly theirs.

How I Participated Without Knowing

The devastating realization wasn’t just that I had been affected by generational patterns—it was that I had perpetuated them through both my compliance and my rebellion.

My magical thinking had taken two forms over the decades: the desperate need to fix and control others, and the equally desperate need to escape and control my own emotional safety through distance. Moving from Israel to Los Angeles at twenty-seven wasn’t just about new horizons—it was about the magical belief that geography could solve what intimacy couldn’t.

I had become, without conscious choice, another link in the chain of men who struggled with genuine connection—some through hypervigilant caretaking, others through strategic withdrawal. Both strategies passed on the same unconscious message: Love is dangerous. Safety requires control. Vulnerability leads to pain.

The child’s magical thinking had grown into the adult’s compulsive strategies—still believing, somewhere deep down, that if I could just manage the variables correctly (whether through perfect caretaking or perfect independence), I could control outcomes that were never mine to control.

Understanding IBS as Magical Thinking Grown Up

This is what happens when childhood magical thinking never gets corrected by reality. IBS is the adult manifestation of childhood magical thinking—the persistent belief that we are somehow responsible for outcomes beyond our control, whether through perfect compliance or strategic rebellion.

It shows up in two main patterns:

  • The Yielding Form:
    • Taking responsibility for others’ emotions
    • Feeling guilty when things go wrong, even if you had no part
    • The compulsion to fix, help, or rescue
    • Difficulty receiving love without earning it
  • The Rebellious Form:
    • Compulsive need for distance and independence
    • Rejecting anything that feels like constraint
    • Believing geography or emotional distance equals safety
    • Struggling with intimacy and belonging

Both are variations on the original magical belief: If I manage myself perfectly—whether through caretaking or withdrawal—I can control what is beyond my control.

The Last Frontier: Forgiving What Was Never Your Fault

Why Self-Forgiveness Feels Impossible

Here lies the cruel paradox: How do you forgive yourself for something that wasn’t actually your fault but felt completely like it was?

The rational mind understands that an eight-year-old cannot be responsible for his father’s war trauma, that magical thinking is a normal developmental stage, that IBS was an adaptive response to impossible circumstances. But the emotional mind—the part that still carries that child’s deep conviction of responsibility—resists this logic.

Self-forgiveness becomes the “last frontier” because it requires us to hold two contradictory truths simultaneously:

  1. I was not actually responsible for the pain I believed I caused
  2. My belief in my responsibility felt completely real and shaped decades of my choices

The Parallel to “Turning It Over”

Self-forgiveness shares something profound with the concept of “turning it over to a higher power”—both require a surrender that feels almost impossible to our controlling minds.

Just as “letting go and letting God” challenges our need to manage outcomes, self-forgiveness challenges our need to maintain the familiar story of our guilt. Both involve releasing control—not just over external circumstances, but over internal narratives that have organized our entire sense of self.

The person who has built their identity around being responsible for everyone else’s well-being faces an existential question when approaching self-forgiveness: If I wasn’t the problem, then who was I? If I don’t need to be forgiven, what was all that guilt about?

The Resistance to Grace

Perhaps the deepest challenge of self-forgiveness is that it offers grace without earning. The child who learned that love must be deserved through perfect behavior cannot easily accept forgiveness that comes freely, without conditions or achievements.

Self-forgiveness asks us to extend to ourselves what we would readily give to any other child in our circumstances: understanding, compassion, and the recognition that they were doing their best to survive something beyond their control.

But offering this to ourselves feels like cheating somehow, like letting ourselves off the hook for what our nervous system still insists was a fundamental failure of love.

➡️ I reflected on this same tension in Generational Grief: Breaking Free from What Was Never Ours to Carry, where I write about the heavy illusion of inherited responsibility and the freedom that comes when we release it.

The Ongoing Journey

Living with the Paradox

I am learning to live with the paradox that self-forgiveness presents. Some days, I can see that eight-year-old at his desk with complete compassion—a small boy trying to solve impossible equations with the only tools he had. Other days, the old familiar weight returns, and I find myself once again taking responsibility for outcomes beyond my influence.

This is the nature of healing generational patterns: it’s not a one-time breakthrough but an ongoing practice of catching ourselves in the old magical thinking and gently redirecting toward truth.

The work isn’t to eliminate the caring child who learned to carry everyone’s pain—that capacity for empathy and attunement serves the world. The work is to free that child from the impossible burden of control, to let him care without carrying, to love without fixing.

Breaking the Chain

What gives this work meaning is knowing that patterns broken in one generation need not be passed to the next. When we stop operating from magical thinking, when we release ourselves from the prison of cosmic responsibility, we give permission for those who come after us to carry only what is truly theirs.

This is how generational healing works: not through perfection, but through the courage to see clearly, to take responsibility for what is actually ours, and to release what never was.

Conclusion: The Gift of Seeing Clearly

This was one of the hardest pieces of writing I’ve ever done. It felt, in the words of Ingeborg Bachmann (1926–1973), the Austrian poet and writer, as if I were writing with a bloodied hand.

Child’s magical thinking was never the problem—it was the solution to an impossible situation. IBS was never a character flaw—it was intelligence doing its best to create safety in an unsafe world.

Self-forgiveness, then, is not about pardoning ourselves for a crime we committed. It’s about releasing ourselves from a story that was never true, even though it felt absolutely real.

The boy at the desk, perfect in his homework and his silence, was never responsible for his father’s shadows or his mother’s unfulfilled longing. He was simply a child, doing what children do—creating meaning from chaos, seeking control in the uncontrollable, loving the only way he knew how.

But one of the other gifts of coming to this awareness is its profound relevance to my life today. As I am programmed to see things through the prism of childhood magical thinking, its outcome is that I continue to project this conundrum with my loved ones today, often taking things out of context. A partner’s quiet mood becomes evidence of my inadequacy. A friend’s cancellation feels like rejection of my very being. Adult interactions get filtered through that eight-year-old’s desperate calculations.

Coming to this awareness helps me take the pause, be more patient, and stop reacting from that place. Maybe not overnight, but slowly and steadily. When I catch myself spinning into magical thinking—believing I’ve somehow caused someone else’s distress or that I must fix their emotional state—I can now ask: “Is this the adult speaking, or is this that boy at the desk, still trying to solve impossible equations?”

The last frontier is not about fixing or earning or finally getting it right. It’s about seeing that child with the eyes of truth, and letting him finally, fully, set down what was never his to carry—both in the past and in the present moment.

September 2025