CHANDIGARH, 16 July — For 17-year-old Simran (name changed), home has never been a safe space. Every evening, her stomach knots at the sound of her father’s footsteps returning from work. It’s the same routine: a slammed door, sharp words hurled at her mother, and hours of tension that hang like smoke in the air. Her younger brother, 12-year-old Kabir, retreats under the bed with his headphones on, pretending the world outside doesn’t exist.
“I feel like I’m living in a war zone,” Simran says. “There’s no physical blood, but we’re all bleeding inside. It’s just that nobody sees it.”
Domestic toxicity — emotional, verbal, and sometimes physical violence between parents — is a silent epidemic in many Indian households, and its worst victims are often the children who grow up inside it. For siblings like Simran and Kabir, witnessing their parents’ toxic relationship every day leaves a lasting imprint on their mental and emotional health.
“I don’t have any memories of a peaceful home,” Kabir says softly. “Even during festivals or birthdays, they would fight. Sometimes I feel like it’s my fault. Maybe if I were better, they’d stop.”
Mental health experts say that many children internalise the conflicts they witness, believing they are somehow responsible. “When siblings witness regular domestic conflict — especially in the form of verbal abuse, yelling, emotional neglect, or threats — they begin to normalize dysfunction,” says Dr. Niharika Bhatia, a child psychologist based in Chandigarh. “They learn to suppress emotions, mistrust relationships, or even replicate those patterns in their own lives.”
Unlike physical abuse, domestic toxicity leaves invisible scars. Constant yelling, gaslighting, neglect, or cold wars between parents create an emotionally volatile space where children live in a state of high alert.
“You learn to walk on eggshells,” says 21-year-old Yashpal, a student at Panjab University who grew up in a toxic household. “My sister and I used to signal each other with our eyes when a fight was brewing. We had emergency codes. We became adults at ten.”
Sibling bonds often grow stronger in such homes, becoming each other’s only source of comfort. “She’s my shield,” Yashpal says of his younger sister. “I stayed back from college placement drives last year because I didn’t want to leave her alone with them. It’s messed up — I’m her brother, not her parent.”
Escaping Without Leaving
But how does one escape when there’s no door to walk out of — especially for children still dependent on the very people who are hurting each other?
Experts and survivors offer strategies for navigating such environments, even when physical escape isn’t possible.
- Create a ‘Safe Space’ Within the Home
“Find a room, corner, or ritual that helps you calm your mind — even if it’s just listening to music on the terrace or writing in a journal under your blanket,” says Dr. Bhatia. “Small sanctuaries matter.” - Talk to Someone Outside
“Don’t keep it inside. Talk to a school counselor, a teacher, or a relative you trust,” says Simran. “For me, it was my English teacher. I’d write poems about my feelings, and she’d read them and check on me.” - Use the Power of Sibling Support
“Having a sibling in the same boat can be a blessing,” says Yashpal. “We made a rule — one of us always had to be sane when things exploded. It worked.” - Access Online Resources Anonymously
There are now helplines, chat-based mental health platforms, and even Instagram pages where young people can talk anonymously. “You don’t always need to call someone. Even reading others’ stories can make you feel less alone,” says Kabir.
It’s also important to remember that sometimes, parents don’t realize the extent of the damage they’re causing. “My father would insult my mother every day, but when I finally broke down in front of him last year, he cried,” says Simran. “He said he didn’t know we noticed. But we noticed everything.”
Many families hesitate to talk about these issues due to stigma, shame, or fear of judgment.
“We need to stop protecting the myth of the perfect Indian family,” says Chandigarh-based counselor Mehak Arora. “Children should not have to suffer to preserve their parents’ image.”
If addressed in time, childhood exposure to toxic domestic environments doesn’t have to ruin future relationships.
“I thought I’d never be able to love someone properly,” says Yashpal. “But therapy helped me understand that I’m not my parents. I’m allowed to choose peace.”
Mehak Arora echoes this: “Healing begins the moment you acknowledge the pain and refuse to carry it forward.”
For siblings like Simran and Kabir, who are still in the thick of it, escape might not mean running away — but learning how to carve emotional exits until life offers a real one.
“We can’t choose the house we’re born in,” Simran says, “but maybe we can choose not to become like it.”
