The child becomes the caretaker, the protector, the one who holds things together, the one who manages the adults’ feelings, because someone has to, and no one else is doing it.

And the terrible thing about it, the thing I did not understand until I lived it, is that it does not look like harm from the outside.

It often looks like the opposite.

A parentified child looks mature, responsible, capable, wise beyond their years — looks, in fact, exactly like a hero.

People praise these children.

They say, admiringly, that the child is so grown-up, so strong, so good at taking care of everyone.

And every word of that praise is a small further weight, because it rewards the child for the very thing that is stealing their childhood.