“If they loved me, they’d just know what I need” – and where that comes from

We’ve all heard it. Maybe we’ve even said it ourselves:

“If they loved me, they’d just know what I need.”

On the surface, it sounds like a simple wish for closeness. But sometimes, underneath, it tells a story that stretches back to childhood.

Imagine a child growing up in a home where a parent couldn’t express their own feelings or needs. Maybe the parent was overwhelmed, maybe shut down, or maybe just trying to cope the best they could. For the child, the world feels unpredictable. They quickly learn that voicing their own feelings isn’t always safe or effective. Sometimes it’s ignored, sometimes it causes conflict, sometimes it feels like the parent just can’t handle it.

So the child develops a different skill: they learn to read the room. They notice the tone of voice, the way a door closes, the shift in breathing, the tiniest change in routine. They become experts at anticipating what will keep the parent calm or happy. Not because they’re magically intuitive, but because survival demanded it.

This constant scanning and guessing becomes second nature. Expressing needs stops feeling useful - or safe. Instead, the child focuses on keeping the connection alive, often at the expense of their own emotional life. Their own wants and feelings quietly fade into the background.

Fast-forward to adulthood, and that pattern can show up in relationships in a very familiar way. You might notice yourself expecting a partner to sense your feelings, to notice when you’re struggling, or to meet your needs without you saying a word. It’s not entitlement - it’s a learned behaviour from childhood, a reflection of the role you played to stay emotionally connected and safe.

When you pause and look closer, it’s clear that this expectation isn’t really about mind-reading. It’s about longing. Longing for the attunement you never had, for the reassurance that your feelings matter, for someone to finally see you without you having to perform or guess.

The good news is, that longing can be met. Healing this pattern doesn’t mean giving up your sensitivity or your ability to read others - it means learning to give words to your own needs, even when it feels unfamiliar. Saying, “I’m not ok,” or “I need some reassurance today,” can feel scary at first. But each time you do, you practice a new kind of connection - one where your needs are seen, heard, and met.

If this post resonates with you, it’s important to know: you weren’t difficult as a child. You learned the skills you needed to survive in a difficult environment. And now, as an adult, you have the chance to unlearn the parts that no longer serve you, and step into relationships where your needs don’t have to be guessed - they can simply be met.