Liza Soberano reveals childhood trauma, mother’s drug use, foster parent abuse

In a deeply candid and unscripted conversation, actress Liza Soberano recently opened up about her tumultuous and traumatic childhood on "Can I Come In?", a unique podcast-cinema-documentary hybrid hosted by Sarah Bahbah.

Born Hope Elizabeth Hanley Soberano in Santa Clara, California, in 1998, Liza described her parents, Jacqueline and John, as young and "misguided," akin to a "Bonnie and Clyde duo" focused on survival without considering the long-term impact on her.

She revealed her mother's severe crystal meth addiction, which tragically led to her younger brother being born addicted to the drug. Her father, facing criminal charges for drug manufacturing and illegal firearm possession, was eventually deported, leaving her mother to care for the children alone.

Among her earliest and most harrowing memories was an incident at age two involving her mother’s boyfriend, Michael. After he stole a van, the family vanished for days, prompting a police search for "kidnapping." Liza vividly recalled being left alone in a car seat at night, and an attempt to escape being thwarted. A particularly disturbing moment occurred when Michael tried to force her to hit her infant brother with a car seat; upon her refusal, he struck her head with a gun. Soon after, sirens approached, revealing her mother had called the authorities.

With her mother subsequently hospitalized and then imprisoned, and her father absent, Liza and her brother entered the foster care system. She spent the longest time with a foster parent named Melissa, whom she later described as both psychologically and physically abusive.

Despite being introduced as her mother’s high school best friend, Melissa's treatment of Liza was anything but friendly. Liza recounted being subjected to severe humiliation, including being called "the family dog," forced to sit in a cardboard box during family movie nights, and being made to eat a meatball until she choked. In a particularly distressing account, Melissa compelled her to clean dog feces from a rug with her tongue, even physically forcing her head down.

During social worker visits, Melissa's demeanor would drastically shift, even offering Liza candy. Believing this temporary kindness was genuine, Liza would lie, assuring the social workers that everything was fine. She reflected on this, stating that as a child, she inherently trusted adults and believed their words of affection, even when actions contradicted them.

As time went on, the abuse escalated severely, with Liza noting Melissa "stopped being like a human" to her. One instance saw her denied food at a fast-food drive-thru, leaving her silently weeping in the back seat. Later, she was forced to spend a cold, dark night sleeping in the garage as punishment, where Melissa threatened to harm her baby brother if she didn't remain silent. Food deprivation became a recurring form of control, with periods of starvation followed by excessive feeding, sometimes going for days without meals.

The abuse finally came to light during a surprise visit from a social worker, who observed physical signs of neglect on Liza's body, specifically a skinny frame and a bloated stomach.

After leaving foster care, Liza lived with her grandparents before financial difficulties prompted a move to the Philippines at age 10. This transition led to a reunion with her father, a relationship she candidly described as "uncomfortable" and "estranged," feeling that his demands were "unmerited" given his previous absence.

Reflecting on her past, Liza acknowledged that her early experiences taught her to "make myself so small" and to "tolerate and accept a lot of disrespect and abuse" out of a deep-seated fear of losing people. She concluded that for her, words hold little meaning without corresponding actions, emphasizing that true love and care are demonstrated through consistent behavior, not just verbal affirmations.

When asked to visualize freedom, Liza painted a picture of "an open field, full of life... open and airy, and it feels safe." Despite this vision, she candidly admitted she doesn't yet possess that freedom. Her path forward, she revealed, involves releasing the need for external validation, prioritizing her own well-being, and truly embracing indifference to others' opinions.

She then made a heartfelt promise to herself, "Hope, I promise you, I’m never going to let anyone make you feel inferior, ever. Don’t let people hurt you. Don’t stay because you’re afraid of rocking the boat. Love yourself first, and life will get so much better."

This deeply personal revelation coincided with Liza's recent confirmation that she and former love team partner Enrique Gil ended their relationship three years prior.