Hearts of Gold Covered by Layers of Armor
The armor we all wear
We often divide the world into good people and bad people. It’s tidy. It makes us feel in control. But beneath every outward behavior lies something deeper: a story, a wound, a forgotten child trying to feel safe in a dangerous world.
What if we said this instead:
Every single person has a heart of gold. It’s just covered by armor — social conditioning, childhood wounds, and reactive parts trying to survive.
Even those who have caused immense harm were once young, vulnerable beings. When we examine their lives through the lens of psychology and compassion, we don’t excuse their behavior, but we understand it. And from that understanding, we can learn.
The other week I wrote about Jeff Bezos from this lens. He’s easy to relate to in some ways—we’ve all seen how money and power can distort people, but he also has admirable traits, and most of us use his services daily. Now, let’s turn to three more infamous figures who are harder to relate to—and look at them through the same lens of wounding and unmet emotional needs.
Adolf Hitler
Perceived as: The embodiment of evil, responsible for the Holocaust and WWII.
Behind the armor:
Adolf Hitler’s early life was marked by violence, humiliation, and grief. His father, Alois Hitler, was notoriously authoritarian and beat him regularly.
“I never loved my father… but feared him. He was prone to rages and would resort to violence.”— Adolf Hitler, as recalled by his secretary Christa Schroeder
Psychologist Alice Miller, in her book For Your Own Good, writes:
“Hitler’s hate‑ridden and destructive personality… emerged under the humiliating and degrading treatment and the beating that he received from his father as a child.”
At 11, Hitler’s beloved younger brother Edmund died of measles. His sister Paula recalled:
“After [Edmund’s] death, Hitler changed from a confident, lively student to a morose, detached boy…”
Art school rejection and years of poverty deepened his inner narrative of shame, worthlessness, and alienation. These feelings eventually crystallized into rigid ideologies and violent nationalism.
Joseph Stalin
Perceived as: A paranoid, brutal dictator responsible for millions of deaths.
Behind the armor:
Stalin’s childhood in Georgia was soaked in violence. His alcoholic father beat him savagely.
“The drunken father savagely beat his son.”— Encyclopedia Britannica
A childhood friend, Iremashvili, recalled:
“Undeserved, frightful beatings made the boy as grim and heartless as was his father.”
Stalin also had physical deformities — a fused toe and a crippled arm — which caused shame and bullying. He lost his father young, then his best friend in a tragic accident, and grew up with a deep mistrust of others and a drive to never be powerless again.
These seeds of pain eventually bloomed into paranoia, manipulation, and control — the hallmarks of his reign.
Donald Trump
Perceived as: A narcissistic, divisive political figure.
Behind the armor:
According to his niece, psychologist Mary Trump:
“Fred Sr.…used and abused all those around him… He limited access to his range of emotions, teaching his children that love is conditional and weakness is unacceptable.”— Too Much and Never Enough
His mother became emotionally and physically unavailable when Donald was just two, following a near-fatal surgery.
“Donald…was essentially abandoned by her when he was two‑and‑a‑half years old.” — Mary Trump
At age 13, Donald was sent to military school, not as a rite of passage but as a form of exile. The message: be tough, don’t cry, stay in control.
His adult bravado and hostility? These are likely protective parts trying to shield an exiled inner boy who felt deeply unsafe in a home where emotions were either punished or ignored.
How Childhood Abuse and Neglect Create “Monsters”
The stories above are not isolated. They are part of a well-documented psychological pattern.
1. When a Child Is Unloved, They Lose Trust in the World
Childhood trauma isn’t just physical violence. Emotional neglect — being dismissed, criticized, or left unseen — can be just as damaging.
Dr. Gabor Maté writes in The Myth of Normal:
“The wounds that drive much human dysfunction are not physical — they are emotional. They result from needs that were not met.”
When a child feels unsafe or unworthy, they begin to form unconscious beliefs like:
• “I must be strong or I’ll be hurt again.”
• “Love is a transaction — I must earn it.”
• “I’ll never be good enough.”
These beliefs don’t disappear. They become the core programming of the adult psyche.
2. How “Parts” Form — and Take Over
Internal Family Systems (IFS) explains how, in the face of trauma, the psyche fragments into “parts”:
A protector part may develop to control or dominate.
A manager part may try to please, achieve, or distract.
A wounded part (the “exile”) carries shame, fear, or grief.
These parts are not bad. They are adaptations. All trying to protect the person.
But without healing, they hijack the adult. The person is no longer led by their wise, compassionate “Self,” but by reactive, wounded protectors trying to avoid pain at all costs.
Paraphrasing Dr. Richard Schwartz, founder of IFS, puts it this way:
All parts have good intentions, even if their actions are extreme. Even the ones we consider monsters are trying to protect a wounded inner child.
3. The Science of Trauma’s Long Shadow
One of the most important studies on this topic is the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study. It found that the more trauma a child experiences, the more likely they are to:
Develop addiction, mental illness, or antisocial behavior
Struggle with empathy and regulation
Perpetuate cycles of violence or control
“The higher the ACE score, the higher the risk for chronic disease, mental illness, violence, and being a victim of violence.”— CDC-Kaiser ACE Study
Similarly, psychologist Jonice Webb writes in Running on Empty:
“Children who grow up emotionally ignored learn that their feelings don’t matter. They often appear successful on the outside but are disconnected from their own humanity.”
Tyrants Are Wounded Children in Disguise
So, connecting the dots a bit now. When you take:
an emotionally starved or violent upbringing
chronic humiliation or loss
and no opportunity to feel or heal…
…you often end up with an adult who will do anything to avoid feeling powerless again.
Power becomes their shield. Control becomes their safety. Cruelty becomes their protection.
We are not just dealing with politics. We are dealing with wounded inner children who never got what they needed — now wearing suits, uniforms, and crowns.
Of course, I realize this is a simplified view. There are other variables that create human behavior. Genetics, circumstance, timing, ideological echo chambers, technology…There are many factors at play.
However, when we can keep in mind that many of these behaviors stem of ego defense mechanisms and wounds outside of their conscious control, this can create a greater sense of empathy, and helps us prevent the same mistake of responding with fear and hatred.
A Father’s Reflection
This isn’t just theory for me. It’s personal.
As a new father, I ask:
How can I help my child grow without needing this kind of armor?
How can I teach him that his emotions are not a threat but a doorway to connection?
Because so much harm in the world begins with a child who wasn’t loved well enough and who later sought power, praise, or control to patch the hole.
Asking Better Questions
We have all kinds of criteria for who can lead—like being over 35 to run for president. But those are surface-level.
As our understanding of psychology deepens — with tools like IFS, trauma-informed care, and somatic therapies — what if we asked better questions?
What if our political candidates and leaders were evaluated not just by policies, but by psychological integration?
How do they handle shame?
Can they tolerate vulnerability?
Are they led by fear — or by love?
And how do we really measure that? Is it even possible? These are questions I am thinking about.
Because so many of today’s leaders are just children dressed in adult clothes. The parts running them aren’t evil. They’re just terrified, and unchecked.
The Practice that Changed Me
In Buddhist meditation, there’s a practice called metta—loving-kindness, which I’ve been practicing for a few years now (sometimes successful, sometimes not). You start by offering kind wishes to someone close. Then to a friend. Then to a stranger. Then to someone you’re struggling with. Eventually, to all beings.
It’s not about forcing love. It’s about softening the armor. It’s about seeing others not as fixed identities, but as unfolding beings shaped by causes and conditions, just like us.
Of course, you quickly find all of the barriers to love, all of the grudges and anger and fear still alive. That’s when you start working on emotional processing, releasing anger, forgiveness and letting go of old beliefs.
Then, over time, the qualities of love, compassion and joy start to more naturally arise in your life without effort. It starts becoming a way of being rather than a state that you have to actively bring up. This is where the meditation turns into a trait.
It’s so tempting to respond with hate, and the media and messages trigger the fear circuits of reptilian brains. But when we do that, we lose, we succumb to the same mistakes. If we dehumanize others, we keep repeating the cycle. Hatred can never be stopped by hatred, hatred can only be ceased by love, as the famous Buddhist saying goes. And if we can’t imagine that even the worst person was once a child with a golden heart…then we’ve already forgotten our own.
I coach entrepreneurs and freelancers who’ve achieved a lot—but feel like something is missing. If you’re ready for a new path, a new way of being, let’s talk. Learn more here.