Summer can also carry expectations of being busy, extra social, and happy. That being said, seeing that happiness in others can sometimes leave trauma survivors feeling isolated or as though they are somehow falling behind their peers; left behind.

Yet healing is not a competition, and there is no “right way” to experience any season if you think about it.

Remember, it is okay if your summer looks different; perhaps quieter, slower, or otherwise from that of what society generally might expect.

Your healing doesn’t have to look like someone else’s. It’s not about matching anyone energy, spead, or resilience this summer. 

On some days, progress may simply mean saying no to someone, taking a quiet walk, watching a sunset, or just allowing yourself to rest without feeling guilty for it.

Your peace may (and likely does) look less like what heals someone else and probably more like what brings you feelings of safety, comfort, restoration, pride, progress, or just calm.

Healing isn’t found within the realm of a single season. It’s something built with grit and grace overtime; a lifelong journey, often requiring ongoing attention and self-care; perhaps one day at a time.

Each small moment of peace you can enjoy absolutely matters. Over time, these small victories can accumulate, leading to profound and potentially meaningful improvements in healing and overall well-being.

Remember that your journey is your own and living at your own pace should not make you feel guilty. At the very least, it is actually one thing you can absolutely control.

Be well.

Original Image Disclaimer: “The image used is an original creative work produced by the author through personal conceptual design, imagination, and use of digital generation and editing tools. Any resemblance to existing works, individuals, or copyrighted material is purely coincidental.”

Guest Post Disclaimer: This guest post is for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing shared here, across CPTSDfoundation.org, any CPTSD Foundation website, our associated communities, or our Social Media accounts, is intended to substitute for or supersede the professional advice and direction of your medical or mental health providers. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the guest author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the CPTSD Foundation. For further details, please review the following: Terms of Service, Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer

When another’s presence approaches our self-imposed safety bubble or personal space, we have choices about how to interpret the “intrusion.” It can be seen as a safe and welcome experience, where we respond emotionally positively and let them in. We are protected and find comfort and safety from potential threats to our well-being by maintaining a respected distance from others.

This is our safe zone, private shield, or our socially “agreed-upon” personal space. It should be a given to a sound-minded individual that they graciously knock at our door before imposing their behavior upon us. That is especially true if the intrusion is uninvited and/or in a self-righteous sense of permission to do as they please, with no respect for us; if they do not knock, we “should” be leery. For many people, it takes courage to say, “You didn’t knock first before engaging with me.”

Some people have no internalized boundaries. That goes for those who boldly enter another’s space uninvited, as well as many who allow others to violate their boundary without giving permission. Entering another’s personal space powerfully, dominantly, or, especially, with hypercharged anger is a violation of their personal sovereignty—a violation of their right to personal dignity and self-respect (this signifies the “blindness” to respect).

An innocent, vulnerable child depends on its parents or caretakers to defend their innate boundaries. Parents protect us and allow us to grow and flourish. Boundaries help to keep us safe.

Sovereignty is my claim, my authority; it is my personal power and enforced right to be the overseer of me and my space within and around me, keeping me safe.

I reserve the right to make my own life choices, to exclude others, and to make my own decisions. I am individuated, and I hold my ground as a God-given right. It is not being rude to expect others to respect us by acknowledging our right to sovereignty over our space and ourselves. Through self-governance, my choices are made from internal understanding, not from external sources or groupthink.

This was the concept I sought: the construct and the understanding of why and how our trampled-upon innate boundaries damage us.

First and foremost, our personal boundaries are fragile to assault and dismantling in our childhood. A controlling parent who demands strict obedience wants to strip away our personal voice, which stands as an obstacle to their control. Over time, far too many of us find ourselves powerless to stand tall and defend against those who would do us harm during and after childhood.

Part of a parent’s job in rearing a child is to protect the child’s boundaries from others’ assaults. Protection from physical, emotional, psychological, and any other harm that threatens to derail a sound foundation of self-development and self-empowerment is a parent’s responsibility (and society, it takes a village to raise a child).

If a human being sets their toxic-chaotic rage upon someone, crossing and violating another’s private sanctuary of presence, it appears as an unthoughtful emotional assault. Here, “unthoughtful” is indeed an inappropriately lightweight word. “Blind” seems more appropriate. Lack of self-awareness and self-understanding leads to an inner self-permission to grant or justify the assault upon another.

Thus, what we do and how we harm others can be considered acts of “blind self-righteousness.” On a subconscious level, the impression develops that “others are unworthy of respect or being treated with dignity.” We don’t envision how anyone deserves respect, not if they are to be controlled and dominated, as some seem driven to do. We can become completely “blind” to the respect and rights that humanity deserves.

When inner rage takes control, there is often a lashing-out behavior toward others in a hurtful manner. We become blinded by rage, ignorance, and human tradition. A lack of awareness and/or understanding can be due to human or cultural traditions.

Our innate boundary, our mind’s inner sanctum of being respected, revered, watched over, and authentically loved, is strong. We develop, through a permission structure, self-esteem and confidence, as well as the ability to think for ourselves. An unsound/damaged boundary structure has internalized the disrespect and obedience demanded from “blind” adherents of a sick societal structure.

A structure or expectation that you have no right to object to abuse and that you “should” blindly show fealty to another’s rights to dictate your behavior, thoughts, and emotions. Self-regulation and self-governance may lie deep within, having given way to an inner tyranny or blocking of individualist thinking. “Groupthink” is adopting the beliefs of those who are important to us. This leaves us as cogs in the social operation, from a group-enforced understanding of sometimes questionable “truths.”

Cruelty. When someone’s personal power and self-regulation are harmed, a sense of emptiness remains.

A hole that aches from the loss of structure and unconditional LOVE. The inner damage may result from being trauma-wounded during important developmental stages of life. A consequence of hidden, or repressed abuse and pain, too often manifests as an emotional energy or brewing rage. That rage can darken an individual’s worldview and perspective, including, in all respects, a furious, evil attitude toward others who might be present.

Utter “cruelty” toward others, in the “blinding” rage of repressed fury at the world at large, can take control. Someone may step into another’s private sacred world of secure boundaries and do unspeakable things of intentional violence. Hurting others with the sense of sadistic fury, haunting the innocent others who, before the enraged trance, were safe from harm.

Like a light switch being flicked on, inner trauma ignites and activates the nervous systems of deeply wounded souls.

Being blinded to love, respect, dignity, and all that is good and decent, gets lost in the fog of a building inner dark emotional wasteland. This emotional space stands at the gates of a developing self-annihilation. It is a consuming anxiety waiting to turn the inner abused adult-child’s world into a sadistic imperative to lash out in a teeth-grinding fury. I sit in the later years of life, viewing the rage and utter bedlam my parents brought upon me in the formative years of my youth.

I see and know the face-twisting fury my mother experienced, brought on by the extreme abuse her inner child endured in her early years. Her story is a tale of savagery, formulated and expressed over the decades. Her behavior made no sense to the vulnerable and sensitive child that I was. Her secretive behavior, shared only between the two of us, was “blind cruelty.”

Generally, she had enough awareness to avoid exposing that boundary-violating behavior in front of others. Occasionally, she would slip up and be witnessed outside the front door. She was unable to, in any way, understand her own demonic episodes. We all need to become aware of what trauma is, what it does, and how it can be approached and treated in our developing understanding of human boundaries and our need for love.

What is trauma? Trauma is an emotional imprinting in our nervous system. An intense, dramatic experience can register emotionally, develop, or serve as the genesis of an “internalized,” reactive emotional state or wound. It can take on a life of its own. Trauma is the internalized, captured, emotion imprinting that “sticks,” establishing the genesis of an inner living nightmare.

BLIND CRUELTY
By Jesse Donahue © 2026

Photo Credit: Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: This guest post is for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing shared here, across CPTSDfoundation.org, any CPTSD Foundation website, our associated communities, or our Social Media accounts, is intended to substitute for or supersede the professional advice and direction of your medical or mental health providers. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the guest author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the CPTSD Foundation. For further details, please review the following: Terms of Service, Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer

Yes, because of my CPTSD, I was a people-pleaser. This was like a survival-mode I learned as a child. And that doormat syndrome was often painful for me, for many years. Until one day, I had had enough and decided to change. Here is what I learned:

Studies show that people-pleasing significantly increases the risk of burnout. People-pleasers are especially susceptible because their difficulty setting boundaries and their desire to be loved by everyone directly lead to chronic stress and emotional exhaustion.

Maybe you’re an empath, and perhaps you’ve often heard, “Oh, you’re so kind.” Many of us were raised to be good girls or good boys to earn our parents’ approval and affection. Nothing is more traumatic for a child than losing that parental love.

Children who experience love withdrawal when they make a mistake naturally become people-pleasers. What many don’t realize is that these patterns often lead to depression and chronic burnout later in life.

Being taught to be a good girl or boy as children turns people-pleasing into a learned, but deeply painful emotional pattern. At home, in church, and at school, the message was the same: we had to be kind and nice. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be loved and might even be rejected by our entire social circle, triggering primal survival fears in young hearts.

The roots of that chronic fear of rejection run deep and are triggered in every area of life, both private and professional. Naturally, we always do more than we’re asked to do, driven by that OCD-like need to keep everyone around us happy. This is where burnout and depression gently take root, growing over time when our efforts remain unreciprocated.

Yes, people will love you as long as you serve them in one way or another. The people-pleaser is often the best student, the most perfect secretary, the kindest boss, and, of course, the ideal parent. People like you because you’re always the first to help others.

But one day, the sky becomes clouded. You notice that weird feeling in the background and realize that people may be abusing your kindness: they aren’t there for you when you need them and don’t appreciate all your efforts. Often, we respond by working harder, trying harder, and performing better until we find ourselves in the doctor’s office, exhausted and perhaps diagnosed with depression.

There is a lasting impact of early approval‐seeking.

When you grow up trained to be a people-pleaser, it often looks on the outside as if everyone likes you; but they stop liking you as soon as you learn to say, “Sorry, no. I can’t help this time.” The more you establish healthy boundaries, the more they criticize you, accusing you of selfishness.

When a people-pleaser awakens and starts setting boundaries, their children often rebel because their parent suddenly says “no” as part of a healthy upbringing. Coworkers begin to gossip because they can no longer exploit your kindness and must handle their own tasks. Employees in your team, too, have to learn to respect their boss in earnest.

And, of course, all the groups that once welcomed you (as a volunteer, donor, or committee member) will let you go as soon as you stop paying with your time or money. They never truly cared about you, only about the resources they could extract.

Maybe, those so-called best friends, or even family members, will tell you that you’ve disappointed them lately, because as a people-pleaser you were their favorite trash bin for emotional issues. But since you learned to say “no” and you’re no longer as available as before, of course, they’re disappointed: they can’t use you for their narcissistic intentions anymore.

Now, another important point: as people-pleasers, we were often trained to forgive and taught that we should always remain kind and nice to those who hurt us. In many situations, this pattern is deeply harmful. It’s one of the main reasons so many of us end up feeling exhausted, depleted and depressed

Depending on the situation, yes, we may forgive, but we don’t have to stay in contact.

If you keep seeing toxic, negative, critical narcissists and other manipulative people, you’ll never move forward or reach your goals in life. If you feel worse after every conversation, that’s a clear sign it may be better to move on.

Like my grandfather used to say, “It is often wiser to spend a season in your own gentle company than to remain surrounded by those who do not truly see, honor, or respect your sacred light. When you lovingly release connections that no longer feel aligned, you create beautiful, open space for the Divine Universe to bring in people who genuinely cherish you.”

It’s wonderful to be kind and helpful – so long as it’s mutual and the appreciation is genuine, valuing you as a person rather than your performance. You are not a doormat or a trash bin for other people’s unresolved issues, jealousies, laziness, or frustrations. There is great relief on the other side of healthy boundaries, and sometimes going no-contact is simply the healthiest way to protect your peace of mind.

Warning signs you’re a doormat for others include chronic exhaustion and resentment, guilt when you say “no,” and feeling used or unappreciated. And the cost of continuing to “be good” often shows up as burnout, depression, and loss of identity, along with relationship imbalances at home and work.

It’s better to be alone for a short time than to stay with people who have no honest respect for you, who belittle, judge, and criticize you just to keep you pleasing them. When you let go of the wrong people, you create space for the divine universe to bring better people into your life.

The good news is that you can build a healthier tribe: because you deserve people who truly support you, respect your boundaries, and uplift your self-worth.

If this message resonates and you need help with a similar situation, feel free to reach out.
With warm regards,
Jeanne
💗

Photo Credit: Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: This guest post is for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing shared here, across CPTSDfoundation.org, any CPTSD Foundation website, our associated communities, or our Social Media accounts, is intended to substitute for or supersede the professional advice and direction of your medical or mental health providers. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the guest author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the CPTSD Foundation. For further details, please review the following: Terms of Service, Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer

A small girl, face redacted, is being exploited. She was about the same age as I was when things started happening to me. While I couldn’t see her face, I saw enough to recognize that she looked somewhat like me at that age. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and my pain levels were already bad. I felt sick, hollowed out, and numb. I didn’t really make it out of bed. I cried off and on all day, barely eating, not wanting to talk. 

These are trying times for survivors of childhood sexual abuse (CSA). As troves of files from one of the world’s most notorious modern sexual abuse scandals are released in waves, survivors are confronted with unwelcome images and details that can be deeply triggering. 

The names of victims were among the unredacted information—a reminder of how painful this can be for those who have continued to suffer in the public eye. Not only are we seeing the photos and emails, we’re also subjected to endless jokes, memes, speculation, sensationalized clickbait, doubt and accusations of evidence of being falsified, dismissals from people saying that this not a big deal and it’s all in the past and we should move on, as well as cries to our fellow citizens to take off the blinders and finally see what’s being presented to the world.  

It’s a lot.  

More than some of our nervous systems can handle.  

As people around the world reckon with terrors beyond their imaginations, those of us who had such things be our unfortunate reality are left to witness their disbelief and horror. As a survivor, I get a unique view into how our voices have been silenced. I remind myself that my reaction can be jaded because these experiences are so deeply embedded in my body that I lived in a state of chronic dissociation for years.   

I had the good fortune to be part of an amazing program for survivors of childhood sexual abuse last year. Rachel Grant’s Beyond Surviving was one of the best programs I’ve encountered on my healing journey. It was also one of the most difficult: I spoke about things that I’d never said out loud before. The trauma release sessions left me so exhausted that my whole body ached for days. With every release of evidence from the files these days, it tests my ability to cope and to maintain resilience.  

I work in digital strategy, and spending time on social media is a core part of my job. I’ve gathered some tips to help practice self-care and wanted to share them here. While no one solution will take care of the problems 100%, a mixture can at least greatly reduce exposure to content you’d rather not see.  

1. Every major social platform has features to block content by keywords. While this doesn’t block everything, it can take care of a lot.  

2. Report and block accounts that are sharing child sexual abuse materials (CSAM), or really, anything you could do without. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re living in a bubble. As humans, we’re not meant to be drowning in a tsunami of content. While some major platforms aren’t great about removing content, blocking, or muting can do a lot to help your mental health!

3. Use a paid social media blocking app if you’re struggling with the temptation to stay informed. As survivors, we may have an urge to support and bear witness to our fellow survivors. It’s up to you to decide what your limit is.  

4. If a particular channel is overloaded with CSAM or rage bait designed to get people arguing, maybe it’s time to stop visiting. Give it a break, or just uninstall the app. Uninstall all of them if you have to, and take an extended break for as long as you need to.  

5. Contact your local representatives and senators and ask them to support sensible measures to prohibit AI-generated CSAM, which has been a growing problem making headlines.  

6. And while this seems like common sense, take it from someone who’s been known to get enmeshed from time to time: don’t jump into the fray. There are literally millions of bots and paid trolls who are seeking to get people upset with rage bait. They may have normal profile pics and bios, and in the fleeting, heated moments of online debates, you may be tempted to argue. Don’t feed the trolls! See point 2—block or mute accounts freely. Don’t share triggering content in an effort to shock people into understanding the trauma of being a survivor. It may get you banned, and arguing online often results in the backfire effect, in which the person you’re arguing with doubles down and gets even more aggressive.  

7. If you have a support system, ask for help! When I’m on my laptop or phone, my husband will sometimes pass by and check in: asking if I’m okay, am I doomscrolling? Do I need to take a break?  

Even though I’ve described myself as “chronically online” for years, events of the past couple of years have started to change me. I do my work on social media as needed, but my evenings are now reserved for non-digital activities. I crochet. I work on art. I read books or write in a journal. According to my symptom tracker, there’s a noticeable improvement in my mood and emotional health since I’ve started doing so. 

I was born long before social media existed, and I’m finding a lot of value in returning to an offline life as much as I feasibly can.  

Photo Credit: Pixabay

Guest Post Disclaimer: This guest post is for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing shared here, across CPTSDfoundation.org, any CPTSD Foundation website, our associated communities, or our Social Media accounts, is intended to substitute for or supersede the professional advice and direction of your medical or mental health providers. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the guest author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the CPTSD Foundation. For further details, please review the following: Terms of Service, Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer

Those in the complex trauma community, especially myself, are well aware that childhood interpersonal relationships set the stage for toxic patterns like codependency—experiences that echo and intensify those childhood violations of safety and worth.

The Onset of Abuse and Humiliation

My own childhood was marked by toxic parenting and relational trauma, beginning at age 6 when my mother remarried. Soon after, life became a living nightmare as I endured the hardships of neglect, physical and emotional abuse, displacement from home, and a dysfunctional family history. These violations of dignity and safety created deep anguish, instability from neglect, issues with self-worth, fear of abandoment and shame for being who I am.

Confronting the Pain and Building Resilience

Withdrawal, hypervigilance, and distrust are core elements of CPTSD that linger into adulthood.

I first wrote about these experiences in the third person to keep some emotional distance. Facing them directly now shows how this long-lasting relationship trauma shaped my ability to bounce back, along with a practical side that wanted to heal my emotional wounds.

Toxic Patterns  

Strangely, in my line of work, I frequently encounter women—and men—who seem determined to prove they are unworthy of healthy, reciprocal love. They repeat cycles of painful relationship choices, often returning to dynamics that echo earlier wounds. Because early life shapes how you view love. While it is tempting to simply blame “a bad childhood,” unresolved CPTSD frequently plants the seeds for these patterns.

What Codependency Looks Like

Unhealed trauma often leads to codependency: a pattern where people put others’ needs first, ignore their own needs, and look for approval by trying to fix, please, or take care of others—often in unfair, one-sided, or even toxic relationships.

Ego and the Marriage Trap: A Cautionary Tale

I hold firmly to the belief that each of us carries an innate code of ethics—an internal compass distinguishing right from wrong. Despite the depth of my own childhood pain, I have never intentionally harmed another person emotionally or physically, and I never will if I can help it.

Consider the messy marriage of my friend Rene. Her husband Charles had a shall we say, ”momma” complex bordering on unhealthy attachment to a narcissistic parent. Everything he did was with the intention of seeking her approval. So tied was he to his mother’s apron strings that the marriage suffered.

Both partners were stubborn and ego-driven; together, they were a disaster waiting to happen. They walked on eggshells around each other, clashed constantly, and allowed “mother-in-law” interference, financial stress, and family pressure to widen the rift. A few years after his mom’s passing, Charles became a victim of a deadly disease.

Yet, despite Rene nursing her husband through the debilitating disease—a moment one might expect to cultivate closeness—nothing really changed. They ended up living in separate parts of the same house. Her once-vibrant self-respect eroded into a chronic state of pessimism and fear. Individually, both were decent people; together, their colliding egos poisoned the bond. While pride and stonewalling create isolation in relationships, it is vulnerability and love that disarm conflict.

The Poison of Unresolved Anger: Paulina’s Story

Hatred and prolonged anger corrode the body and mind. My friend Paulina endured severe childhood sexual abuse from a cousin at age 9 and buried it deeply. At 21, she entered an abusive marriage, enduring beatings and infidelity while pregnant, all for the sake of her child. When she discovered the cheating, her rage erupted. She divorced, fought in court, and won a substantial settlement, becoming financially independent overnight.

Years later, Paulina met a genuinely kind, loving man. Yet she could not fully receive his love—unresolved rage, fear, and shame blocked her. Despite my encouragement to focus on the present, she felt compelled to seek confrontation and closure with her childhood abuser. Traveling to her remote village, we discovered the abuser had passed away. The news brought a partial release: she no longer needed to confront him. But the man who had waited patiently for her had, under family pressure, married someone else. Heartbroken but ultimately free from the grip of hatred, she continues to seek true love, and I hold hope for her.

The Deeper Message in The Pain

These experiences—my own childhood, Rene ’s marriage, Paulina ’s journey—illustrate how unhealed trauma fuels codependent habits. It increases patterns of chronic people-pleasing, blurred boundaries, attracting or remaining with unhealthy partners, and attempting to “repair” old wounds through current relationships.

Recognizing the Signs of Trauma

Trauma from codependent dynamics often shows up as persistent feelings of unworthiness, hyper-responsibility for others’ emotions, chronic anxiety in relationships, and a deep fear of abandonment. Survivors may struggle with self-trust, feel empty when alone, or experience physical symptoms such as tension, digestive issues, or exhaustion from the constant emotional upheavals.

Common warning signs include:

• Martyr Syndrome. Over-focusing on a partner’s needs while ignoring your own.
• Saviour complex: Feeling responsible for fixing or controlling their behavior.
• Abandonment issues: Intense fear of rejection that leads to bending backwards in excessive compromise
• Toxicity: Attracting or staying in unbalanced, abusive relationships
• Chronic resentment, suppressed anger, or emotional numbness.
• Difficulty saying “no” without overwhelming guilt.

The Secrecy of Silence

Many remain silent about codependent patterns due to profound shame. Thinking they seem “too needy” or “defective”, fear that speaking up will lead to abandonment, or the internalized belief that enduring pain proves love and loyalty. This enforced silence keeps the trauma cycle alive while ingraining powerlessness.

Codependency can both originate from and increase CPTSD. Childhood relational wounds condition you for adult trauma bonding, where love feels conditional. The constant relational strain magnifies toxic shame and emotional flashbacks, reinforcing feelings of unworthiness and isolation. Understanding this link to codependency is a core part of CPTSD recovery.

Healing the Inner Child.

Healing begins with turning toward the wounded inner child with the compassion that was missing in the past. Through gentle practices such as inner-child visualization, therapeutic writing, somatic grounding, or mirror work, survivors can offer themselves the self-validation, safety, and unconditional acceptance they were once denied. Re-parenting oneself involves setting healthy boundaries, practicing self-soothing, and gradually rebuilding self-worth independent of external approval.

The Bottom Line: Finding Help is the First Step to Healing and Recovery

Trauma-Informed Steps for Support and Healing for Survivors:

• Validate your experience: The patterns were survival strategies, not character flaws.
• Practice boundary-setting: Start small—say “no” without explanation or apology.
• Regulate the nervous system: Use breathwork, grounding exercises, or body scans to interrupt dysregulation.
• Seek specialized support: Work with therapists trained in complex trauma, attachment, or codependency (e.g., using EMDR, IFS, or somatic approaches).
• Cultivate self-compassion: Use daily affirmations rooted in truth (“I am worthy of mutual, respectful love”).

CPTSD Foundation offers daily support, trauma-informed resources, blogs, and safe communities to help heal from childhood relational trauma and codependency. Explore attachment wounds, neurodiversity, and practical strategies to reduce isolation and rebuild your life.

Your pain is valid. Healing isn’t linear—every small act of self-kindness builds resilience and opens the door to real connection. You’re worthy of peace, mutual love, and full recovery. Help is available—reach out.

Support

Helplines and Immediate Support: If you are in crisis or need urgent support:

• CPTSD Foundation Help Centre
• US: Crisis Text Line – Text HOME to 741741 (24/7); National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – Call or text 988.
• International: Local crisis hotlines, mental health services, or trusted professionals.

References and sources:

• Overcoming Codependency | CPTSDfoundation.org
• Childhood Trauma and Codependency: Is There a Link?
• How Trauma Can Result in Codependency
• Codependency & CPTSD: Understanding & Healing.
• Codependency and Childhood Trauma: Is There a Link?.

Photo by DICSON on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Names have been changed to protect identities. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

The clock can’t be fixed, but it functions just well enough to insist on remaining in my life.

This year feels different.

Life circumstances have pulled me back toward a period between 2013 and 2016—years marked by chaos, conflict, and past trauma layered atop older wounds. I had long since moved forward, but I am again navigating doctors, therapists, and courts. Systems designed to help now mirror a time I worked hard to survive.

My former husband is reliving his own trauma history, responding to the present as though it were the past. Years ago, his serious mental illness was evaluated by doctors, and while some diagnoses were ruled out, his grasp on reality was not consistently intact. Anyone who has lived with someone in this condition knows this truth: you cannot reason with someone who is time-collapsed into trauma and out of touch with reality. Attempts to explain, correct, or defend only pull you deeper into the spiral.

As a parent, my primary task is containment—protecting my 15-year-old son from being drawn into an emotional reality that is not his responsibility to carry. And yet, even with firm boundaries in place, I find myself spending more time revisiting events I believed were behind me.

Like that clock in storage, the past keeps chiming—insistent, familiar, yet out of tune and slightly inaccurate.

So the question becomes essential rather than philosophical:

How do we keep another person’s unresolved trauma from pulling us out of the present and back into a time we no longer live in?

Trauma Lives Outside of Time

One of the most disorienting aspects of complex trauma is its relationship to time. Trauma does not age chronologically. It does not move forward simply because years pass. When someone has not processed or integrated their experiences, their nervous system can remain anchored to a moment of threat long after the danger has ended.

To the person holding the broken clock, the time it shows still feels very real.

For survivors of CPTSD, this can be especially dangerous. Many of us learned early that safety depended on vigilance—on monitoring emotional shifts, anticipating explosions, and preventing collapse. When someone around us becomes destabilized, our nervous system may respond automatically, pulling us into an old role: mediator, protector, translator, and peacekeeper.

But engaging with someone who is time-collapsed does not bring resolution. It brings reenactment.

You cannot convince a clock to tell the correct time by arguing with it.

When Compassion Turns Into Self-Abandonment

For trauma survivors, boundaries often come tangled with guilt. We confuse compassion with participation. We fear that stepping back makes us cruel, uncaring, or disloyal—especially when the other person is clearly suffering.

But compassion does not require immersion.

We can acknowledge another person’s pain without stepping into their emotional storm. We can recognize that someone is reliving something that feels real to them–without agreeing to live there, too.

CPTSD survivors are particularly vulnerable to emotional contagion. Another person’s dysregulation can feel physically destabilizing, triggering old survival responses: hypervigilance, dissociation, panic, or collapse. What looks like “overthinking” is often the nervous system scanning for danger it has learned to respect.

Boundaries, then, are not a moral stance. They are a physiological necessity.

Boundaries as Timekeepers

Healthy boundaries are not walls meant to punish or exile. They are closer to property lines—clear markers of where one person ends and another begins. They do not erase history. They simply prevent history from overrunning the present.

In trauma recovery, boundaries often function as timekeepers. They help us stay oriented to now.

When someone insists on engaging from an old emotional reality, a boundary says: I recognize that this feels urgent to you, but I am choosing to live in the present.

This may look like limiting conversations, declining emotional engagement, or allowing professionals—not family members—to hold therapeutic responsibility. It may feel cold at first, especially to those of us conditioned to respond in a dysregulated way.

But stability is not cruelty.

Parenting in the Presence of Unresolved Trauma

When children are involved, the stakes are higher. Children should not be asked—explicitly or implicitly—to inherit unfinished emotional business. They should not be pulled into loyalty binds, emotional caretaking, or adult conflicts rooted in the past.

As parents, we may feel torn between empathy for another adult’s suffering and fierce protectiveness toward our children. This tension is real—and exhausting.

Containment becomes an act of love.

Sometimes that means keeping our children anchored in the present, even when another adult is living in the past. It means refusing to let yesterday’s pain dictate today’s relationships. And it means protecting children from being pulled into someone else’s unresolved history.

Letting the Clock Stay in Storage

I still haven’t donated the clock.

That matters.

Letting something remain in storage is not the same as denying its existence. It is a recognition that while the object may hold history, it no longer belongs in my daily life. It does not deserve a place on the wall simply because it once did.

This is what healthy boundaries often look like in practice. Not dramatic cutoffs. Not erasure. But intentional distance.

I don’t have to throw the clock in the dumpster.
I don’t have to hang a clock on my wall that can’t keep time correctly.
I simply decided not to organize my life around it.

Choosing the Present

Healing often involves reclaiming our right to live in the current time—to experience relationships, parenting, and daily life without being pulled backward by someone else’s unresolved pain.

Some people will continue to measure time by moments of loss, betrayal, or fear. That does not obligate us to do the same.

Boundaries are how safety becomes predictable.
They are how compassion stays humane.
They are how the present remains livable.

And sometimes, healing looks like this:

Choosing a clock that keeps time with who you are now—and letting the others keep chiming quietly, somewhere out of view.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Understanding Professional Self-Assessment

As the year draws to a close, many of us feel pulled to look back on our professional journey. For trauma survivors, this reflection period can be particularly challenging as we navigate between meaningful career contemplation and getting caught in cycles of trauma-driven rumination. Let’s explore how to engage in nurturing reflection while recognizing and gently redirecting ourselves when we slip into rumination patterns.

Healthy Reflection vs. Trauma-Driven Rumination

In the days following a performance review or at year’s end, many of us find ourselves looking back on our professional experiences. But there’s an important distinction between productive reflection and harmful rumination — especially for those of us with trauma histories. Understanding this difference helps us engage with our past experiences in ways that support growth rather than trigger distress.

Healthy reflection feels spacious and curious. When we’re reflecting, we might notice both challenges and successes, seeing them as part of our larger growth journey. Our thoughts flow naturally, leading to insights and possibilities for the future.

Rumination, on the other hand, often feels sticky and constricted. We might find ourselves replaying the same scenarios repeatedly, focusing heavily on what we “should” have done differently or getting caught in spirals of harsh self-judgment. Our nervous system might feel activated, and we might notice physical signs of stress like tension, shallow breathing, or fatigue.

Recognizing Your Reflection Patterns

Recognizing healthy reflection patterns helps us engage with our experiences constructively. Here are key indicators that you’re reflecting in ways that support growth rather than trigger trauma responses:

• Your body feels relatively relaxed as you consider past experiences. You can maintain a sense of being present in the current moment while thinking about the past.
• You notice multiple perspectives about situations, including what you learned and how you grew, not just what went wrong.
• Your thoughts lead to genuine insights about your needs, boundaries, and values in the workplace.
• You can acknowledge both challenges and successes without getting stuck in either.
• You maintain a sense of compassion for yourself and others involved in various situations.

Warning Signs of Rumination

Just as important as recognizing healthy reflection is being able to identify when you’ve shifted into rumination. These warning signs can help you catch rumination patterns early and redirect to more supportive reflection practices:

• Your thoughts keep circling back to the same events or interactions without new insights emerging.
• Physical tension increases as you think about work experiences.
• You notice yourself using words like “always,” “never,” or “should” frequently in your internal dialogue.
• You feel increasingly anxious or disconnected from the present moment.
• Your thoughts focus heavily on trying to control past outcomes or predict every possible future scenario.

Tools for Mindful Career Review

Once you recognize you’re caught in rumination, having concrete tools can help you shift back into healthy reflection. Here are practical strategies that engage both mind and body to support this transition:

Grounding Techniques

When you notice rumination patterns emerging, take a deep breath and feel your feet connecting with the floor. Name three things you can see in your current environment. Remind yourself gently that you are here now and that you are safe to reflect at your own pace.

Structured Reflection Questions

Instead of letting your mind wander freely through the past year, try using specific questions as gentle guides:

• What professional boundaries did I maintain or strengthen this year?
• When did I notice myself trusting my instincts at work?
• What workplace situations helped me feel safe and supported?
• How did I care for myself during challenging times?

Journaling Prompts for Growth

Sometimes, having our thoughts on paper helps us maintain perspective. Try keeping a simple reflection journal using these prompts:

• One challenge I navigated:
• What it taught me:
• How I supported myself through it:
• One boundary I honored:
• How it served me:
• What it taught me about my needs:
• One skill I developed:
• How I’ll continue nurturing it:
• What support do I need moving forward:

Practical Strategies for Workplace Wellness

Beyond recognizing reflection versus rumination, having concrete practices helps maintain healthy engagement with your career experiences. Here are key strategies that support structured, trauma-informed reflection:

Setting Healthy Boundaries

Designate specific times for career reflection rather than letting it spread throughout your day. Perhaps schedule 30 minutes in a comfortable space where you won’t be interrupted.

Sensory Engagement Tools

Keep grounding objects nearby during reflection time — perhaps a warm drink, a soft blanket, or a calming scent. These sensory anchors can help maintain present-moment awareness.

Remember that everyone’s career journey includes periods of uncertainty, challenge, and growth. Your path may look different from others, and that’s perfectly okay.

Managing Your Window of Tolerance

Pay attention to signs that you’re moving beyond productive reflection. If you notice increased anxiety or shutdown responses, it’s okay to pause and return to reflection another time.

Moving Forward with Self-Trust

As you look back on 2025, remember that the goal isn’t to analyze every moment or decision. Instead, aim to gather insights that can help you move forward with greater awareness and self-trust.

Creating Supportive Mantras

Consider creating a simple phrase that can help you redirect from rumination to reflection, such as:

“I’m learning and growing at my own pace.” “I can reflect with compassion.” “My journey is unfolding as it should.”

Developing Action Plans

This week, try setting aside 20 minutes for intentional career reflection. Choose one of the structured questions above, gather any grounding objects that help you feel safe, and notice what insights emerge when you reflect with self-compassion.

Reflection Questions for Journaling

1. What helps you recognize the difference between reflection and rumination in your body?
2. What would career reflection feel like if you approached it with the same compassion you’d offer a friend?
3. How can you honor your growth and healing as you look back on this year?

Reflection is meant to serve your growth, not deplete your energy. You get to choose how and when you look back, always moving at a pace that feels sustainable for your nervous system.

An Invitation

If you’d like to join an online community of other resilient overcomers focusing on their careers, I invite you to join The Resilient Career Academy™ Community. (RCA Community)

The RCA Community is a group dedicated to helping/supporting those working to overcome adversity and achieve their full potential in their careers.

The benefits to you are:

• Community. The community provides support, encouragement, and the ability to share frustrations and get feedback from people who understand the struggle.
• Workplace/Career Resources. The group provides tools, resources, and templates to help you with your career journey.
• Available Coaching Support. The community is supported by trained and certified coaches who are available for individual sessions.
• Learning. You will have access to various trauma/workplace-related online courses developed by our coaches to help you in your journey.
• Workshops/Webinars . You will have access to practical workshops/webinars targeted to help you in the workplace grow your career.

If you are interested in joining us, click here: https://resilientcareeracademy.myflodesk.com/community

As always, you do not have to walk this journey alone. Contact me to schedule your free discovery call.

Trigger Tracker Template — This is a resource to help you become aware of your triggers in the workplace and plan the coping strategies you will use to get through the experience.

If you want to stay informed on the programs, tools, and training I offer, sign up for my mailing list.

You can also visit my website for more information on courses and other freebies I offer at: https://www.cyndibennettconsulting.com.

Photo by Aleš Čerin on Unsplash

We’ve all done it, saying yes when we don’t want to.

So, why do we do it to ourselves? Why don’t we just say what we feel? The truth isn’t as cut and dry as you would think.

Excuses — right? That is what you’d say. I get that. My own excuses have excuses as to why I don’t say no when I say yes. (That even sounded wrong as I wrote it.)

Guilt — Wow, that’s a big one. You can’t say no because you got guilted into it. Yeah, been there many times. I have said yes, because someone asked me nicely with a really good reason as to why I had to say yes.

You Owe them — Favors. Those are tough to get out of. I get that. I’ve done it many times, and you feel obligated to help someone out of a bind because you owe them.

Just this last time…. Boy, if I had a Dime every time I heard this, I would be a millionaire, but yes, of course, you forget all about your personal life, and you do the very thing you don’t want to do — one last time.

Except that thing was not the last time — or was it?

When does it stop? SAY NO.

Don’t be a DOORMAT.

You don’t have to say yes to people all the time. You have free will, unless your job is dictated by a contract that you have to follow. Your life and commitments are just as important as those of others.

By saying yes to people all the time, you teach others that you will do anything for them.

What is the cost? By cost, I mean your personal cost, whether it is time, money, gas for giving people rides — the list is endless.

Remember that your life matters just as much as everyone else’s. Yes, you. Especially if you have suffered from trauma, you have lived through something indescribable. Something most people cannot comprehend.

Don’t bend over to other people all the time. Say NO. Other people say no to you, right? So why can’t you say it back? Give it some thought, and while you are thinking, allow yourself to feel treasured in this life.

You matter, your feelings matter, and your life matters. No one should take away your freedom by doing something you don’t want to do. Life is precious and far too short.

So instead, I want you to practice saying no.

See how it feels. Then do it again.

Once you have gotten used to saying no a few times, it won’t feel weird. This is normal.

Be like a rock in a waterfall. Stand tall like a sentinel while those stupid favors wash over you. Life’s busy enough without bending over for people who don’t appreciate you.

As trauma survivors, it’s easier to say yes than no because we’ve always said yes. Life doesn’t have to be that way anymore. You are in charge of your life.

My name is Lizzy and I’m learning to say NO. It’s not easy, but I am trying. Will you be there to try with me?

My name is Lizzy. I’m a trauma survivor, a wife, a mom, a teacher, and an author.

If you like reading my posts, then please follow me.

For more about me: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support your fellow writer:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484

Photo by Debby Urken on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Do I tell my parents?
Do they deserve to know what happened to me?
Would they believe me?
Would they hold it with care, or would it break me all over again?

If you’re here, standing in that in-between place, you’re not alone. This is one of the hardest crossroads survivors face. For some, the decision feels clear. For others, like me, it’s layered and ongoing.

Sometimes the abuse happened under your parents’ roof.
Sometimes it was hidden in plain sight.
And sometimes, you don’t even know if they know.

You might find yourself circling questions like:

• Do I owe them this truth?
• Will it bring healing or harm?
• What if they can’t hold it? What if they say the wrong thing, or nothing at all?
• What if I speak it and everything changes—or worse, nothing does?

The truth is, sharing your story with a parent is not required for healing. It is a choice. And like all sacred choices, it deserves time, care, and safety.

Ask Yourself These Questions First

Before deciding to disclose, here are a few grounding questions to sit with:

1. Why do I want to share this?
Is it for connection? Clarity? Validation? To reclaim power? To draw a boundary?
There is no wrong reason, but knowing your why can anchor you.

2. What do I hope will happen? What do I fear might happen?
Give yourself permission to answer both. Hope and fear can live side by side.

3. Have I processed this enough to hold steady if their response is hurtful, shocked, or dismissive?
If not, that’s okay. It may not be time yet.

4. Do I have support ready, a friend, therapist, or coach to debrief with afterward?
You are not meant to carry this alone, no matter how strong you are.

If You Do Choose to Share, Prepare Yourself First

Here are a few things that can help:

• Write down what you want to say.
  It can be a letter, a few bullet points, or a full narrative. Organizing your thoughts helps you stay grounded.
• Practice.
  Talk it through with someone you trust. Let your nervous system rehearse what it feels like to be witnessed.
• Set boundaries before the conversation.
  Say things like, “I just need you to listen right now,” or “I’m not looking for advice or debate.”
• Prepare for all outcomes.
  They may meet you with compassion, or they may not. Your truth is still valid.
• Have a plan for how to step away if needed.
  If things get overwhelming, you get to pause, end, or redirect the conversation.

And If You Decide Not to Tell Them? That’s Valid Too.

You do not owe anyone your story. Not even your family.

You can be deeply healing and wildly brave without ever telling your parents what happened.

Not telling doesn’t mean you’re hiding. It means you are choosing what is safest, kindest, and most aligned for you right now.

And if your answer changes later? That’s okay. This journey is not linear.

Final Thoughts

This part of your story, the telling, the not telling, the wondering, still belongs to you.

You don’t have to rush. You don’t need anyone’s permission. You get to honor your truth in whatever way feels right. You are not broken. You are becoming. And that is powerful.

As for me, I still haven’t shared my story with my parents.
They can’t even hold my warm memories without minimizing them, so I’ve chosen not to interrupt my peace just to be met with silence or dismissal. I may never get the response I would hope for, and that’s a grief I’ve learned to hold gently. For now, protecting my healing matters more than being understood by people who never truly saw me.

And maybe that’s the bravest choice of all.

Photo by Ioann-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

The fawn response is the least recognized of the four primary trauma reactions: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. While the first three are more familiar in both psychology and pop culture, fawning often flies under the radar because it doesn’t look like fear. It looks like being helpful, agreeable, and selfless. But under the surface, it’s a survival strategy wired into the nervous system to avoid conflict, maintain attachment, and stay safe.

What Is the Fawn Response?

Coined by therapist Pete Walker, the fawn response refers to a trauma-driven pattern of people-pleasing behaviors designed to diffuse danger when the brain senses threat, especially social or relational threat. The survivor may instinctively placate, appease, or over-accommodate.

Research in polyvagal theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, helps explain why this happens. When fight, flight, or freeze aren’t viable options—as is often the case in childhood trauma, domestic violence, or institutional abuse—the nervous system defaults to fawning to stay safe. It’s a biologically embedded attempt to maintain a connection with those who may also be the source of a threat.

What begins as a protective strategy becomes a deeply ingrained personality pattern. Over time, many survivors confuse the fawn response with their identity, unaware that their constant accommodating is actually trauma playing out in slow motion.

What It Looks Like in Real Life

People who operate from the fawn response often exhibit:

• Chronic people-pleasing and approval-seeking
• Avoidance of conflict at any cost
• Over-apologizing, even when not at fault
• Feeling responsible for others’ emotions
• Struggling to set or enforce boundaries
• Difficulty identifying their own needs

These patterns are often rewarded in society—especially in women and marginalized groups—which makes them even harder to detect. Being seen as “nice,” “helpful,” or “loyal” can reinforce fawning behaviors that are actually rooted in fear, not authenticity.

In professional settings, fawning might look like never saying no to extra tasks, tolerating mistreatment from superiors, or downplaying achievements to avoid attention. In relationships, it can manifest as staying silent about unmet needs, walking on eggshells, or becoming emotionally invisible to preserve peace.

The Psychological Toll of Fawning

Though it appears calm on the surface, the fawn response takes a significant psychological toll. It can lead to:

• Emotional exhaustion and burnout
• Resentment and repressed anger
• Identity erosion (not knowing who you are without others’ needs guiding you)
• Depersonalization or dissociation
• Anxiety, depression, and complex PTSD

Long-term fawning also inhibits healing. It keeps survivors locked in trauma-informed behavior patterns that prevent true emotional intimacy and self-trust. While other trauma responses may draw more attention, fawning quietly corrodes a survivor’s sense of agency.

Why It’s So Hard to Recognize

Unlike fight or flight, fawning is socially rewarded. Kindness is a virtue, and empathy is crucial in any society—but when those traits are compulsively used to manage fear or prevent abandonment, they become survival tools, not values. That distinction is subtle but critical.

Trauma-informed behavioral profiling shows that fawning is not about being nice—it’s about being safe. Survivors may feel discomfort when praised for being “so easy to work with” or “always willing to help,” because somewhere inside, they know the behavior isn’t truly a choice.

Fawning is often misdiagnosed as low self-esteem or social anxiety. In reality, it’s a deeply rehearsed pattern born from environments where saying no, expressing anger, or having needs led to punishment or withdrawal.

Pathways to Recovery

Healing from the fawn response requires more than setting boundaries. It requires reclaiming the nervous system’s sense of safety.

Some strategies include:

• Working with trauma-informed professionals who understand CPTSD and the fawn response
• Learning to tolerate the discomfort of healthy conflict
• Rebuilding connection to one’s own preferences, needs, and limits
• Somatic practices to regulate the nervous system
• Reframing self-worth as intrinsic, not earned through service or sacrifice

True kindness is not self-erasure. It’s grounded in authenticity, not appeasement.

Closing Thoughts

Many survivors live decades unaware that their most praised traits—generosity, agreeableness, and loyalty—may actually be coping mechanisms forged in trauma. The fawn response isn’t who you are. It’s survival skills – that is, what you learned to do to stay alive.

Recognizing this pattern isn’t about shame—it’s about clarity. And with clarity comes the quiet power to rewire the fear-driven patterns and rebuild a life led by choice, not compulsion.

This isn’t about fixing your personality. It’s about finally hearing your own voice underneath the noise of survival.

Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.