🎲29-Question Unpredictable Parent Quiz: What's Your Trauma Dating Style?

As a child, you never knew what mood your parent would be in—loving one moment, distant or angry the next.

As a child, you never knew which version of your parent you'd get—their moods, rules, and availability changed without warning or explanation.

You witnessed how hurtful people could be and vowed never to be like them.

You were often unfairly treated by your parents or siblings—like all problems were your fault.

Growing up, love felt like a lottery—some days you were cherished, others ignored or punished seemingly for the same behavior.

Growing up, your parents' love depended on their mood—forcing you to constantly earn even basic attention that should have been freely given.

Early on, you became alert to micro-changes—a sigh, a tone shift, or a silence could signal impending storms.

In your family, love required chasing—parents withheld affection until you proved yourself, or only showed care during a crisis.

You often obsess about people who have hurt you long after they're gone from your life, replaying conversations and thinking about what you should have said and done differently.

In your household, love came with screaming matches, tearful apologies, slammed doors, and passionate makeups.

Growing up, you automatically put aside your own needs whenever someone else seemed upset or uncomfortable.

You learned early that keeping everyone else happy was more important than what you wanted.

As a child, you stayed loyal to people who hurt you—because they were your family.

You hated your family's patterns, but feared you'd become just like them anyway.

At home, your feelings didn't matter, only your ability to soothe others.

You got used to constant ups and downs—home often felt like a tinderbox waiting to explode.

Friends sometimes betrayed you—so you tested them.

Good moments always ended badly, teaching you not to trust calm periods.

Growing up, dating and love meant extremes—obsessing over some people, rejecting others.

Friendships got either too close or stayed too distant.

In your family, chaos felt more normal than unknown peace.

Love came with strings attached from the people who were supposed to care for you unconditionally.

Every word had to be measured to avoid setting someone off.

You rehearsed conversations, planning how to get your parents to agree.

When you were little, sometimes the only way to get attention was to make it impossible for adults to ignore you.

You kept hoping your family would change, but they never did.

You had to work through one parent to get to the other, or play adults or other siblings against each other to get what you needed.

Your parents would often say 'no' out of habit or discipline - the real answer came much later because you made it a point to stand up for yourself.

Sometimes you'd just shut down and space out—unable to fight or flee, like a deer in the headlights.