Is it really trauma?
You tell yourself it wasn’t that bad. Other people have been through worse. You function, you get through the day—so does it even count as trauma? But then there are moments that remind you it’s still there, woven into your body, your thoughts, your reactions. Maybe it’s the way your heart races over something small, something that shouldn’t matter. Maybe it’s the way you shut down when someone raises their voice, or the way you feel inexplicably numb when you should feel happy.
You don’t talk about it much. Maybe you’ve tried before, and people didn’t get it. Or maybe they told you to “move on” or “look at the bright side.” Maybe they meant well, but their words just made you feel more alone. So, you carry it by yourself.
The Fear of Reaching Out
You’ve considered therapy before, but something always stops you. You wonder if it would even help. What if talking about it makes things worse? Will the therapist looks at you differently once they know everything? What if they tell you something you don’t want to hear—that you’ll always feel this way, that you can’t be fixed?
But then, deep down, another voice speaks. It’s quieter, harder to hear, but it’s there. It says, What if healing is possible? What if you don’t have to carry this alone?
You try to imagine what it would be like to let someone in—to sit across from someone who isn’t judging you, who isn’t rushing you, who doesn’t need you to be anything other than exactly who you are in that moment. Maybe you don’t have to say everything all at once. Maybe you don’t even have to put it into words yet. Is it okay to just show up, as you are, and see what happens? (yes!)
You don’t expect therapy to erase what happened. But maybe it could change the way it lives inside you. Maybe it could help you breathe again, trust again, feel safe in your own skin. You’re tired of surviving. You want more than that. You deserve more than that.
Maybe this – making contact – is the first step.