Post-Traumatic Experience – When Something Shattered and Never Quite Settled

Some Moments Leave a Mark

There are experiences that split life into a before and after. A car crash. A sudden loss. An assault. A medical emergency. A near-death experience. These are what we sometimes call capital-T traumas—discrete events that overwhelm our capacity to process, leaving the body, mind, and nervous system holding more than they can bear.

You might find yourself reliving the moment over and over. Feeling like you’re back there, even when you know you’re not. You might avoid places, people, or sensations that remind you. Or you might go numb—not because you don’t care, but because it’s the only way to survive.

In this work, we don’t reduce what happened to a diagnosis. We don’t try to override your body’s truth. Instead, we offer it the one thing it didn’t have during the trauma: a safe space to feel, to make meaning, and to begin releasing what got locked inside.

Trauma Lives in the Body

Even when the mind can’t remember—or wants to forget—the body holds on. Tightness in the chest. A startle at loud sounds. Sleeplessness. A sense of constant vigilance or inexplicable fatigue. These aren’t just symptoms. They are signals. Messages from a system that was once overwhelmed and has been doing its best to keep you safe ever since.

Our work begins with learning to listen to those signals with care. We move gently, building your capacity to feel what’s there without being flooded by it. Safety doesn’t come from avoiding the past—it comes from learning that now is different.

You Don’t Have to Tell the Whole Story All at Once

You might be hesitant to revisit the trauma. Afraid that speaking it aloud will make it worse, or that no one could really understand. In our work, there’s no rush. You set the pace. Some people find healing in putting the story into words. Others find it in silence, metaphor, or simple presence.

We don’t need to re-experience the trauma to heal it. We need to connect to the parts of you that were frozen in that moment, and offer them something they didn’t have: support, kindness, and a steady hand.

The Aftermath Is Often Invisible

People around you may say, “It’s over now,” or “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” But trauma doesn’t move on just because the world expects you to. In fact, it’s often in the aftermath—when things are supposed to be okay again—that people feel most alone.

You don’t have to pretend you’re fine here. You don’t have to justify why you’re still struggling. What happened to you matters. And how it lives in you now matters just as much.

Making Room for What’s Next

Recovery isn’t about forgetting or erasing the trauma. It’s about creating space in your body and your life for something beyond it. More breath. More trust. More choice.

You may never go back to who you were before. But you can move toward a new kind of wholeness—one that includes what happened, but isn’t defined by it.

If you’re ready to begin that process, I’m here to walk with you—gently, respectfully, and always at your pace.