Everyone has bad days.

When our lives get busy, we need a reboot.

“Well, I don’t have time for a reboot,” you say.

I say, “Everyone needs to take a time out for their own mental health. One of the ways is to incorporate meditation into your day/week.”

Hear me out.

Meditation is something I’ve tried to avoid for years. I simply didn’t believe in sitting with my legs crossed and chanting words I couldn’t pronounce. I thought it was a waste of time, and that I could devote my precious minutes doing something far more productive.

My therapist has mentioned meditation as a way of relaxing for years. I kept saying I’d do it, but I know I won’t.

Then something happened.

I had another “run in” with a colleague who got jealous of the way I helped a child at my school. She insulted me. It’s not the first time this colleague has given me her opinions, and if I’m honest, I’m getting tired of being spoken to like I’m a nobody.

I got angry and took myself away to have a cry in the restroom rather than say something to the colleague that I’ll regret later.

My friend found me crying, and we talked about how I can rise above it. She gave me a challenge to help me through my anger with the colleague who upset me.

My friend asked me to try a meditation challenge to help calm my brain and focus on what makes me happy.

My friend was right. Meditation does help to calm the mind and focus on what truly matters. YOU. YOU MATTER.

I’ve now tried meditation, and it can be whatever you want it to be.

You can meditate with a YouTube video talking you through relaxation techniques.

You can meditate with a Podcast in your earbuds on your commute to work.

Meditation doesn’t have to be a chore. It can be tailored to your needs, where you are.

Meditation simply means reflecting on and contemplating your reality. You don’t have to sit with your legs crossed and hum in a foreign language if you don’t want to. (You might want to try it) You can sit however you want to sit, as long as you’re comfortable.

When you focus on your breathing and clear your mind of anything else, you focus inwards.

Meditation often includes a deep-breathing exercise. This is what I struggled with because I didn’t know the power of “the breath” in the body.

Taking a time-out to do some deep breathing is beneficial when you are stressed. You cannot help but calm down when you become aware of your breath going in and out of your body, and feel your heart beating.

Deep breathing simply means becoming aware of your inner body. This awareness then focuses your mind on your thoughts.

When you meditate, you might focus your thoughts on a problem, or your own needs. It’s your chance to think about what truly matters to you in your life. To think deeply about something.

Here are some questions that you could think about when you meditate:

Who are you in this moment?

How do you feel?

What do you want from your life?

Imagine that you have everything you want. What does it look / feel like?

The Benefits of Meditation

1. It’s a simple but fast way to reduce stress in your body and instill calm. It has been proven that it reduces the stress hormone, cortisol in your body, and decreases your Amygdala’s activity in your brain. (The Amygdala’s main function is to process emotions and link emotional responses to memory).
2. It increases your self-awareness and your emotional regulation. You focus your thoughts and understand them better. This then gives you a better mental clarity before you react to a problem or situation.
3. Improves focus and memory. Thinking deeply about something leads to clarity and attention to what you feel.
4. Helps managing depression. By being more in tune with your body and your emotions.
5. Increases your empathy and relationships. Through deep thinking about situations, you become more empathetic with others. You will also feel a stronger connection with others.
6. Overall mental health. You will feel more at peace within yourself and your surroundings.
7. It can help manage long-term conditions, like PTSD and IBS. For more information, here is an article from the University of California:
   
   

I gave meditation a shot, and I’m reaping the rewards after doing it every day. Sure, I’m still busy with juggling my family/work and my last two months of my MFA degree. I still manage to carve out a few minutes each day to focus on me.

After meditating, I’m calmer, and I feel happier in myself. I feel more assertive about what I want for myself, and I don’t let other people’s issues get me down. I let any insults wash over me like a pebble in a waterfall because I matter, and my life matters.

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

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

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

Here are a few links to my top articles:

Looking for a Change?

https://medium.com/activated-thinker/looking-for-a-change-f391e85abbd7

A Search for Identity

https://medium.com/beyond-lines/a-search-for-identity-893df7c970c2

Are You Searching for Peace?

https://medium.com/illumination/are-you-searching-for-peace-cd54d76231c8

Stuck points are rigid, distressing thoughts and beliefs that feel immovable. They often develop as the mind’s attempt to make sense of overwhelming or unresolved trauma. Over time, they can begin to feel like facts, rather than interpretations.

There are, however, ways to better understand, create distance from, and gradually loosen the grip of stuck points. The aim is not forced positivity or denial of pain, but relief through clearer understanding.

Before continuing, it is important to state that nothing here is intended to minimize the scale of your hurt. Trauma pain is real, valid, and deeply personal. Care and sensitivity must remain central. These ideas are offered not as corrections, but as tools.

Stickiness Reflects Hurt

One useful starting point is recognising that the “stickiness” of a stuck point often reflects the magnitude of the hurt that shaped it.

The more severe or enduring the psychological injury, the more rigid the associated belief system may become. This rigidity is not a personal failing; it is the mind’s protective architecture at work.

Viewing stuck points through this lens can provide an aerial perspective. Rather than experiencing the thought as an absolute truth, it becomes possible to see it as an adaptive response to pain. For individuals who respond well to logical framing, this shift alone can create a surprising sense of psychological space.

Hurt Versus Belief

A second critical distinction involves separating two experiences that often become fused:

1. The hurt itself
2. The belief that the hurt can never lessen

Pain and permanence frequently become psychologically entangled. The intensity of distress can generate the convincing impression that relief is impossible.

Recognising that hurt and belief are not the same process is foundational. While pain is an emotional and physiological experience, beliefs are interpretations constructed by the mind. Interpretations, unlike injuries, can be examined.

The belief in permanence can be articulated, observed, questioned, and tested. This does not instantly dissolve distress, but it introduces something vital: variability. Where variability exists, movement becomes possible.

Internal Exemptions

Many trauma survivors unknowingly reinforce stuck points through what might be called exemption thinking.

This often appears as quiet assumptions such as:

• “My pain is different.”
  • “My situation is worse.”
  • “Others may recover, but I cannot.”
  • “No one could understand this.”

These thoughts are rarely defensive in intention. They are protective conclusions drawn from lived experience, yet they function to place suffering outside the reach of change.

When an internal exemption is recognized as a learned construct rather than an objective truth, its authority can begin to soften. Repeated observation and gentle examination weaken the automatic link between distress and inevitability.

The shift may feel modest, but psychologically it represents genuine progress.

Timelines of Stuck Points

Stuck points seldom exist in isolation. They often cluster across a person’s life narrative, for example:

• Mourning for who one could have been (without early life trauma)
  • “Rose-colored” beliefs about life before the trauma
  • Interpretations of the trauma itself
  • A sense of lost or altered time
  • Present-day threat perceptions
  • Future-oriented fears

These timeline-based stuck points can operate simultaneously, producing a compounding effect. Thoughts emerge, trigger distress, fade, and recur in familiar loops.

Few people consciously map these patterns. As a result, the collective impact can feel chaotic and overwhelming.

Timeline mapping introduces structure. When stuck points are externalized and located along a life narrative, they become observable rather than diffuse. This process often produces an initial sense of relief simply through organization.

More importantly, it allows for examination. Patterns, themes, and shared assumptions become visible. Re-framing can then occur at the level of interpretation, rather than emotion.

A Different Relationship With Thoughts

Ultimately, overcoming stuck points is rarely about eliminating thoughts–it is about changing one’s relationship with them.

Stuck points lose power not when they are suppressed, but when they are seen clearly. Observed thoughts become experiences rather than commands. Beliefs become hypotheses rather than certainties.

This is a gradual process. Relief often arrives in increments, rather than breakthroughs. Small moments of cognitive flexibility accumulate into meaningful change.

Progress may look like:

• Noticing a thought without immediately believing it
  • Recognizing an exemption pattern in real time
  • Identifying variability where once there was certainty
  • Experiencing distress without assuming permanence

These shifts can feel subtle, yet they represent profound psychological movement.

Conclusion: Movement Before Relief

One of the most misleading aspects of trauma recovery is the expectation that relief must come before movement.

In reality, movement usually precedes relief.

The early signs of change are often cognitive rather than emotional. A thought feels slightly less absolute. A belief becomes slightly more negotiable. A reaction feels marginally less automatic.

These are not minor developments. They are indicators that psychological flexibility is returning.

Healing rarely involves disproving pain. It involves loosening the conclusions that pain once demanded.

Stuck points are persuasive because they were formed under conditions where rigidity was necessary. Their persistence reflects history, not destiny.

Relief does not emerge from force, argument, or denial. It emerges from repeated moments of recognition, observation, and gentle revision.

Not sudden transformation, but steady, cumulative movement.

And movement, however small it may appear, is never trivial.

Timelines graphic property of the author.

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

www.reliefandhope.com

Citations: 

1. Stuck Points / Rigid Trauma Beliefs

The article’s description of stuck points directly corresponds with Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT).

Key Source

Resick, P. A., Monson, C. M., & Chard, K. M. (2017).
Cognitive Processing Therapy for PTSD: A Comprehensive Manual. Guilford Press.

CPT formally defines stuck points as maladaptive beliefs that interfere with recovery, particularly around safety, trust, power/control, esteem, and intimacy.

Supporting Theory

Ehlers, A., & Clark, D. M. (2000).
A cognitive model of posttraumatic stress disorder. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 38(4), 319-345.

This model explains how persistent PTSD symptoms are maintained by negative appraisals of the trauma and its consequences, which is conceptually identical to stuck thinking.

2. “Stickiness Reflects Hurt” / Rigidity as Protection

The idea that rigidity scales with psychological injury is strongly supported by trauma and schema research.

Foundational Work

Janoff-Bulman, R. (1992).
Shattered Assumptions: Towards a New Psychology of Trauma. Free Press.

Trauma disrupts core beliefs about safety, predictability, and self-worth. The mind compensates by forming rigid meaning structures.

Neurocognitive Support

Brewin, C. R. (2001).
A cognitive neuroscience account of posttraumatic stress disorder. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 39(4), 373-393.

Brewin’s dual representation theory explains why trauma memories and beliefs become highly persistent and emotionally charged.

Clinical Framing

Foa, E. B., Hembree, E., & Rothbaum, B. O. (2007).
Prolonged Exposure Therapy for PTSD. Oxford University Press.

Emphasises that avoidance and cognitive rigidity function as learned survival responses, not pathology.

3. Hurt vs Belief / Pain vs Interpretation

This distinction maps onto core cognitive therapy principles.

Classic Cognitive Model

Beck, A. T. (1976).
Cognitive Therapy and the Emotional Disorders. International Universities Press.

Beck differentiates between automatic thoughts and emotional reactions, showing beliefs are modifiable even when distress is intense.

PTSD-Specific Support

Ehlers & Clark (2000)

Persistent distress is maintained not by the trauma itself, but by appraisals and interpretations.

4. Exemption Thinking / “Mine Is Different”

This concept aligns strongly with cognitive distortions, schema maintenance, and cognitive fusion (ACT).

ACT / Cognitive Fusion

Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K., & Wilson, K. G. (1999).
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. Guilford Press.

Cognitive fusion describes the process where thoughts are experienced as literal truths rather than mental events.

Schema Rigidity

Young, J. E., Klosko, J. S., & Weishaar, M. E. (2003).
Schema Therapy: A Practitioner’s Guide. Guilford Press.

Schemas persist through self-reinforcing interpretations such as perceived uniqueness of suffering.

PTSD Belief Maintenance

Resick et al. (2017)

CPT explicitly identifies beliefs like:

• “I am permanently damaged”
  • “No one can understand”
  • “The world is completely unsafe”

5. Rumination / Thought Loops

The discussion of looping thoughts is strongly supported.

Major Authority

Nolen-Hoeksema, S. (2000).
The role of rumination in depressive and anxiety disorders. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 109(3), 504-511.

Rumination intensifies and prolongs distress by repeatedly activating negative belief networks.

PTSD-Specific Research

Michael, T., Halligan, S. L., Clark, D. M., & Ehlers, A. (2007).
Rumination in PTSD. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 45(11), 2683-2692.

Rumination maintains PTSD symptoms by reinforcing maladaptive appraisals.

6. Timeline Effects / Compounding Stuck Points

This aligns with narrative identity and trauma memory integration research.

Narrative & Trauma Memory

Schauer, M., Neuner, F., & Elbert, T. (2011).
Narrative Exposure Therapy. Hogrefe Publishing.

NET explicitly uses lifeline / timeline mapping to organise traumatic memories and beliefs.

Autobiographical Memory Disruption

Rubin, D. C., Berntsen, D., & Bohni, M. K. (2008).
A memory-based model of PTSD. Psychological Review, 115(4), 985-1011.

PTSD involves disturbances in autobiographical memory coherence across time.

Identity & Trauma

McAdams, D. P. (2001).
The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5(2), 100-122.

Trauma reorganises identity narratives and future projections.

7. Reframing & Cognitive Flexibility

The emphasis on gradual loosening is very consistent with modern therapy models.

Cognitive Change Mechanisms

Resick et al. (2017)

Recovery occurs through modification of maladaptive beliefs, not emotional suppression.

Psychological Flexibility (ACT)

Hayes, S. C., Luoma, J. B., Bond, F. W., Masuda, A., & Lillis, J. (2006).
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy: Model, processes and outcomes. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 44(1), 1-25.

Psychological flexibility predicts improved outcomes across disorders.

Neuroplasticity & Therapy

Kolb, B., & Gibb, R. (2011).
Brain plasticity and behaviour. Annual Review of Psychology, 62, 113-136.

Therapeutic change corresponds with measurable neural adaptation.

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

De-escalation respects physiology before it attempts logic. Stress moves through a brief sequence: something triggers, the mind assigns meaning, the autonomic system shifts, and behavior follows. That appraisal window is the only real chance to change course.

• If you offer a concrete option the person can use, arousal softens.
• If you judge the emotion and demand composure, arousal climbs.

Kitchens, clinics, classrooms, and squad rooms follow the same pattern because biology does not bend to titles.

Tone policing is often sold as coaching. In practice, it rewards packaging over truth and asks the person with less power to present pain in a way that comforts the person with more power. That may calm a meeting for ten minutes and poison the relationship for ten months. Survivors learn to edit for safety. They stop reporting until the situation reaches a clinic, a courtroom, or a crisis team.

There is a clean difference between soothing and silencing. Soothing reduces demand on the nervous system by changing something real in the environment. Silencing insists on compliance while everything else stays the same.

• Children feel the difference before they can explain it.
• Adults who have lived through coercion feel it at the first word.
• Employees hear it when performance talks are about tone more than work.

Language that works is short, specific, and time-bound. It pairs a behavior with an escape from the moment.

In homes where trauma sits in the air, “calm down” usually appears when fear spikes.

• A parent wants quiet.
• A partner wants the argument to end before someone leaves.

Softer words are not enough. Clean asks, are.

If you need quiet, say, “I need quiet for fifteen minutes.” If you need space, say, “I am stepping out and will return at 7:30.” If you need a boundary, state it once, repeat it once, then hold it. Direct requests reduce humiliation and stop the chain of second fights that ride behind the first.

Care practices should target the body as much as the story. A survivor will not settle because someone says “relax.” They settle when doors stay unlocked, plans are kept, and consequences match behavior. That rhythm lowers limbic alarm and shortens recovery time. Pair that with simple regulation skills: slow nasal breathing, brief movement, water, light, and a shift to a quieter space. Skills beat speeches.

Clinicians and peer supporters can improve outcomes with three habits.

1. Speak to function more than labels. “When meetings go past six, your body moves into defense, and you stop hearing offers.”
2. Give one action at a time and wait. Brains under stress need more time to process than any of us want to admit.
3. Protect dignity while you set limits. People can accept boundaries when they do not feel shamed in front of others.

For survivors, here is a field kit you can use without permission from anyone.

• Decide on two sentences you will say when your own arousal spikes.
• Write them down and practice them cold.
• Schedule your hardest conversations earlier in the day, not after your energy drops.
• Anchor every argument to one decision and one time box.
• If you are facing someone who uses tone as a weapon, switch to written communication, where you can slow the cadence and keep a record.
• Protect your body with routine sleep, food, movement, and light. Restoration is not a reward for good behavior. It is fuel for better judgment.

The line between safety and control runs through language and follow-through. “Calm down” tries to take control without adding safety. Replace it with behavior that actually lowers load and words that do not humiliate. Rooms get safer when people feel steady enough to think, and lives get more livable when promises are realistic enough to be kept.

References:
Barrett, L. F. (2017). How emotions are made: The secret life of the brain. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Edmondson, A. C. (2019). The fearless organization: Creating psychological safety in the workplace for learning, innovation, and growth. John Wiley & Sons.
Gottman, J. M. (1994). What predicts divorce? The relationship between marital processes and marital outcomes. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and recovery: The aftermath of violence—from domestic abuse to political terror (Rev. ed.). Basic Books.
Linehan, M. M. (2014). DBT skills training manual (2nd ed.). The Guilford Press.
National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health. (2002). The changing organization of work and the safety and health of working people (DHHS [NIOSH] Publication No. 2002-116). U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
Porges, S. W. (2011). The polyvagal theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W. W. Norton & Company.
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

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

Our world is full of negativity right now. It can be hard to tune everything out that’s going on in the news and in our cities.

Did you know how you think can affect your health and outlook in life? It sounds weird, and I was skeptical too before I thought about my own life.

Positive thinking breeds a positive outlook on life. Many of us naturally default to negative thoughts. We can spend days feeling down and moody about things. It’s not good for our health to be negative all the time.

What if I told you that it doesn’t have to be that way? That if you changed the way you think by only a little bit, you can feel better.

Positive thinking is not magic, but it works — and I’m living proof.

I spent years feeling invisible and hurt after living through trauma. Nobody appeared to see the true me. I fought to rewire my brain and ignore comments from people that wanted to put me down. Even though life was not going my way at the time, I forced myself to think positively instead of focusing on the negative situation I was in.

Little by little, I started clawing back my own sanity and myself.

Here are my proven ways to tackle negativity through positive thinking

1. Positive glimmers. No matter how small they might be, look for them, even in negative situations. If a friend cancels on you, think about the time you gain to focus on other things. Your friend will still be there for another day.
2. Gratitude. Focus on the good things that are happening in your life and be grateful for them — no matter how small. At one point in my life, I was feeling thankful for dry clothes because I had spent many days being soaking wet in the rain.
3. Choose who you spend your time with. Surround yourself with people who are happy and energize you. There is nothing wrong with spending time with friends who are down on their luck, but if they are the only people you see, then you will also be zapped of energy and gloom. Seek out those friends who nurture you and give you something in return. That’s where you will find positivity.
4. Humor. Allow yourself to laugh every now and then.
5. Positive self-talk. Did you know that how you talk to yourself can have a big impact on how you feel and act? It’s true that if you keep telling yourself that you are “worthless” and “stupid,” then you will start to feel that way. How about changing the narrative to “I’m not good at this yet,” or “I think I need more practice.” I use this self-talk often with my own kids and those who I teach when they tell me “They can’t do it.” I always challenge this by “How about you say, you can’t do it yet, but you will.”
6. Identify where you tend to think negative thoughts. If you can’t think of one, ask a friend or your partner. I’m sure they can help you with this. Once you know where you are negative about yourself, you can tackle it. Challenge why you feel that way. What is the proof?
7. Journaling. Write your thoughts down, especially those negative thoughts. If you have the same negative thoughts, you will soon notice a pattern, and you can do something about it. Positive thoughts are nice to note down and if you are feeling down, a nice read to take that “frown upside down.” (Can you tell I teach first graders?)
8. Wake up each morning with a positive thought or act. I do this often, and it can be as simple as telling yourself that, “your day will be great.” I usually take this a step further, and I compliment those around me. “I like your shirt,” or “what a nice color.” Giving somebody a compliment doesn’t just make other people feel good, but I enjoy it too.

When you start focusing on a more positive outlook in your life, you will start to notice subtle changes.

You will feel better within yourself and in how you act around other people.

You will notice that your energy levels are higher than before and you can focus better on things.

Your mental and physical well-being improve, and you have less sick days and headaches.

You recover quicker from colds and injuries.

You cope better in stressful situations.

You notice quicker when your body is acting up and you fix it before it turns into something worse like depression.

You live longer.

Positive thinking isn’t a magic cure for everything, but what it will do is help you to navigate problems with better control.

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 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

Here are a few links to my top articles:

• Looking for a Change?
• How To Explain Complex PTSD To Loved Ones
• A Search for Identity
• Dealing With Flashbacks
• The Knock on the Door that Changed My World
• The Goodbye I Never Said Out Loud

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

I always think of this scene when I’m emotionally triggered. For me, it’s an accurate metaphor for how it feels to become hyperactivated in response to a perceived threat. It is very easy to interpret what’s really in front of you (toy gun) as something far more threatening (real gun), and react more violently than the situation requires. The scene further represents to me how those reactions can have consequences, particularly in our intimate relationships.

…

In recent decades, the term trigger has been co-opted by popular culture to mean any type of strong feeling in the face of an uncomfortable or unpleasant experience.[2] Social media accounts use it for example to mock “woke” people who get offended, and educational “trigger warnings” promise to protect us from potentially disturbing content.

Yet these mainstream uses of the term fail to capture its original meaning, and don’t necessarily cater to the needs of those most prone to feeling triggered: survivors of serious trauma.[3]

As therapists Sue Marriot and Ann Kelley describe, being emotionally triggered occurs when an implicit traumatic memory from our past “flood[s] [us] with a feeling that doesn’t make sense in the present.”[4] This “memory” is not experienced as such, but rather as a sudden physiological experience of acute emotional distress.

While we may be on the right track about what’s actually happening to us (something uncomfortable is most likely taking place), our sympathetic nervous system feels that discomfort at a disproportionate level to the current situation.[5]

To quote Marriot and Kelley, “the channel is right, but the volume is too high.”[6]

Doctor Ramani, an author and clinical psychologist, describes the experience of being triggered using a slightly different metaphor. She explains that when we encounter a situation that evokes our original trauma, we may feel “plucked’ like a guitar string.”[7] Once plucked, that guitar string continues to vibrate long after the threat has passed. As a result, survivors of trauma who are triggered may appear to the outside world as though they are overreacting or having a hard time “getting over it.”

The truth is it simply takes time for that vibration–originating from deep, nervous system-held emotional wounds–to come to an end.[8]

The experience of being triggered or plucked becomes uniquely complicated in response to relational trauma. While episodic traumas–a serious accident or natural disaster, for instance–are also extraordinarily painful, the source of the triggers associated are usually a bit easier to demarcate, such as a particular location, activity, or time of year.[9] Relational traumas, by contrast, can be more nuanced and less clear, making it harder to anticipate potentially triggering events.[10]

Additionally, the intense reactions that result from relational triggers get played out in relationship, meaning that survivors may misattribute the source of their distress to the very people with whom they desire safety and closeness. What’s seen as an overreaction to the non-triggered person then leaves the survivor feeling alone and ashamed, unable to communicate the depth and significance of their experience.[11]

It is essential to understand, however, that emotional triggers do not only stem from “negative” experiences. Survivors of relational abuse may feel triggered by “positive” interactions with an intimate partner because they mimic the love bombing and honeymoon stages in their previous toxic relationships.

Therapist Nadine Macaluso, in her book Run Like Hell, explains how our nervous systems become addicted to the cycle of abuse: “Because of the ongoing manipulative love tactics, your nervous system becomes ungrounded. Love-bombing is so extreme that it creates a flood of the feel-good neurotransmitter dopamine in the brain…the same neurotransmitter that…drives the addictive cycle of cocaine.”[12]

Psychotherapist William Brennan in turn explains that survivors may find positive moments therefore “traumatic to experience because of fear and powerlessness…the fear of relapse, craving, difficulty in error monitoring, [and] longing.”[13] In other words, the entire abuse cycle–love bombing, devaluation, and discarding–becomes triggering to the survivor in the aftermath of the relationship.

…

The good news for survivors of trauma is that, with therapy, mindfulness, self-care, and other forms of healing, the pluck becomes smaller, the string tighter, and the vibration shorter.[14] Like the giant, we may still have moments that take us out of ourselves, but we can begin to build the tools of self-awareness and self-regulation that makes repair possible.

Our nervous systems, so easily wired for threat, can thankfully be re-wired to incorporate feelings of safety and connection.

As Hogarth reminds the giant at the end of the film, “You are what you choose to be.”[15] No matter how reactive or powerless our emotional triggers make us feel, we indeed have a choice in how we respond to our trauma. And in fact, with intention, care, and support, the learning that comes from trauma can even become our superpower.

[1] Bird, Brad, director. The Iron Giant. Warner Bros., 1999.

[2] “Understanding Emotional Triggers – Why Your Buttons Get Pushed and What To Do About It.” Therapists Uncensored, episode TU08, 28 Sept. 2016.

[3] Jones, Payton J., et al. “Helping or harming? the effect of trigger warnings on individuals with trauma histories.” Clinical Psychological Science, vol. 8, no. 5, 1 June 2020.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Doctor Ramani. Why You Should STOP Saying the Narcissist TRIGGERED You… 20 Feb. 2023.

[6] “Understanding Emotional Triggers.” Therapists Uncensored.

[7] Doctor Ramani. Why You Should STOP Saying the Narcissist TRIGGERED You.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Macaluso, Nadine. Run like Hell: A Therapist’s Guide to Recognizing, Escaping, and Healing from Trauma Bonds. (Greenleaf Book Group, 2024), 62.

[13] Brennan, Will. “Intensive Training on Narcissistic and Psychopathic Abuse | Part II.” PESI.

[14] Doctor Ramani. Why You Should STOP Saying the Narcissist TRIGGERED You.

[15] Bird, Brad, director. The Iron Giant. Warner Bros., 1999.

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

From the outside, it looks obsessive.
From the inside, it feels like the only way to survive.

Trauma-conditioned control isn’t about power–it’s about protection. It’s the instinct to hold everything in place so nothing can collapse again. And for a long time, that was my reflex, too. I micromanaged everything. I monitored every detail. I tried to outthink disaster. I believed if I could just control enough variables, nothing could hurt me.

I kept that mindset into my forties. Not because I was stubborn, but because I didn’t have any other operating system. The turning point wasn’t peaceful or pretty: it arrived as exhaustion. There eventually arrives a moment where we realize that trying to prevent every possible crisis is more draining than the crisis itself.

Letting go didn’t happen overnight. It wasn’t a spiritual revelation. It was work—slow, uneven, gritty work. Today, twenty years later, I’m not “perfect.” I’m maybe ninety-five percent there, as far as not needing to control so fiercely. But the remaining five percent doesn’t frighten me. It reminds me that healing doesn’t require perfection; it requires awareness, consistency, and self-responsibility.

This is the first truth many trauma survivors never hear:
You do not have to be a flawless human being to reclaim your peace.
You only have to stop letting your reflexes run your life.

Long-term trauma alters the brain.

It wires it toward pessimism—quiet, habitual pessimism—not because we want drama, but because our bodies learned to prepare for the worst. So a late payment feels like financial collapse. A delayed text feels like rejection. A shift in plans feels like abandonment.

It isn’t truth.
It’s trauma.

The brain catastrophizes before it thinks.
It predicts disaster before it considers fact.
Left unchallenged, that pattern blinds us to anything steady, healthy, or good.

And the cost doesn’t stop with the individual. When every conversation becomes a breakdown, a spiral, or another “my life is falling apart” report, even the most loyal people eventually step back. Not out of irritation—but out of emotional fatigue. A support system can hold you, but it cannot carry the entire weight of your unregulated nervous system.

Here is the boundary trauma survivors must learn:
Support helps.
But support cannot do the work for you.

Your mindset is your responsibility. Your regulation is your responsibility. Your reframing is your responsibility.

Reframing gets a bad reputation because people mistake it for “positive thinking.” It’s not. Reframing is trauma rehabilitation. It’s the daily practice of teaching your body that not everything is danger. It’s reminding your brain that a setback is not a collapse. It’s choosing interruptive truth over catastrophic assumption.

When the “my day is ruined” script starts rolling, the goal isn’t to suppress it. The goal is to interrupt it long enough to stop the spiral.

One of the most powerful interrupters I ever used was a simple phrase:
“Well, isn’t this interesting.”

It shifts catastrophe into observation. It pulls the mind out of victimhood and moves it into curiosity. Sometimes this phrase gives me clarity to handle the next step. Sometimes it opens the door for tears because the emotion needed to move. Either way, it breaks the spell. And that second of interruption changes everything.

There are other ways to interrupt the trauma reflex.

• Ask a neutral question:
  What else might be true here?
  Not what else is positive—what else is true.
• Name one fact:
  My body is reacting to a prediction, not a reality.
• Call out the distortion:
  This feels catastrophic, but it’s actually inconvenience.
• Or simplify the moment into the most manageable task:
  What is the next right step?
  Just one step–not twenty.

These small shifts are the only size a traumatized nervous system can swallow.

Big strategies overwhelm. Small strategies interrupt.

And interruption is the beginning of regulation. That’s where peace begins—not when life becomes predictable, but when we stop gripping things we were never meant to control.

Control was a survival tool we developed when the world was unsafe. But peace is a skill we develop when the world is no longer dictates our internal state. We learn to respond without bracing, to adjust without spiraling, to shift without collapsing.

Healing isn’t the absence of difficulty.
Healing is knowing you can handle difficulty without losing yourself.

And the moment we stop gripping what was never ours to hold, something remarkable happens:
Our peace finally comes back.

Sources

The Body Keeps the Score — Bessel van der Kolk, MD (Viking Press)
Trauma and Recovery — Judith Herman, MD (Basic Books)
Principles of Trauma Therapy — John Briere & Catherine Scott (SAGE Publications)
The Polyvagal Theory — Stephen W. Porges (Norton)
Emotional Intelligence and the Brain — Daniel Goleman & Richard Davidson (Bloomsbury)
Cognitive Therapy of Anxiety Disorders — David A. Clark & Aaron T. Beck (Guilford Press)
In An Unspoken Voice — Peter A. Levine, PhD (North Atlantic Books)
The Upward Spiral — Alex Korb, PhD (New Harbinger Publications)
The Neuroscience of Emotion Regulation — James J. Gross (Cambridge University Press)
Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving — Pete Walker, M.A. (Azure Coyote Books)
The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook — McKay, Wood, & Brantley (New Harbinger Publications)
The Science of Positivity — Loretta Graziano Breuning, PhD (Adams Media)
Cognitive Behavior Therapy: Basics and Beyond — Judith S. Beck, PhD (Guilford Press)
Managing Traumatic Stress — Edna Foa, Terence Keane, & Matthew Friedman (Guilford Press)
The Feeling Brain: The Biology and Psychology of Emotions — Elizabeth Johnston & Leah Olson (Norton)

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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

Trigger Warning: This post contains personal accounts and detailed discussions of childhood abuse. If you are currently feeling vulnerable or find these topics distressing, please prioritize your well-being before reading.

Childhood abuse is one of the worst forms of torture that a person can endure. It feels like being in a war zone, imprisoned by cruel dictators and forced to live under their every will and command until the law “says” you are old enough to have your own life. I know this because I have lived in this particular “war zone” called child abuse.

I was stuck and I had no one to lean on for help who had my corner. No adult saw my pain and need to feel safe and no matter how much I cried for help, I was ignored.

My own mother had to be “bullied” by my teachers to take me to the doctor when I had an STD. She insisted I was “fine,” and everything was fine. Well, within all that “fine-ness,” I was left to suffer in the hands of cruel sexual predators and neglectful adults. It was only when those STDs turned nasty with infection, and I couldn’t go to the bathroom that adults took notice and told my mother. If they had not, I would be dead.

The same thing happened years later when I suffered several miscarriages from abuse. I had never been told by mother that girls of a certain age would start their periods. I didn’t know what they were, and I was convinced that I was dying. The truth that I was pregnant at age 13–15 was laughed at. I had no boyfriend, and I was a loner at school, so how could I possibly be pregnant?

No one saw the obvious truth. I had “unusually heavy bleeding,” and my mother was angry when I went through packet after packet of sanitary towels. I was sick with cramping and infection that I was in a haze like a zombie and yet mother made me go to school. I got no medical treatment, nor was I taken to the ER. I was left to suffer through them all with the shame and stigma that comes with being a menstruating young girl.

For some of them, I managed to hide by locking myself in the bathroom and just letting the blood gush out of me in painful spasms. It was terrifying! I often bled through my clothes because I couldn’t stem the bleeding.

My final miscarriage was very public in a packed church full of most of my school friends and their families. I started having painful spasms in church, and I couldn’t leave since I was doing a reading. Blood was pouring for everyone to see, as well as a giant red stain on my glowing white dress.

It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Instead of being taken care of, I was laughed at and people whispered and pointed fingers at me. The shame and guilt of being “dirty and un-hygienic” were on most people’s lips.

Taking Stock of the Damage

A childhood full of abuse and neglect will often lead to Complex PTSD. It is one of the worst forms of Post-Traumatic Stress because you feel as if you are still living in the past. The memories keep getting triggered years after the abuse ended.

Complex PTSD causes the body to act and feel like it is constantly under attack, stuck in the “war zone” of hurt.

A person will continue to feel this way years after the abuse happened into adulthood and beyond. It can take a lifetime to feel safe and trust people again. I know because I’ve lived with Complex PTSD my whole life. Everything feels like living through a magnifying glass. I feel different from others, and no matter how much therapy I have gone through, I still cannot change that mindset. I still feel different because I see life in so much more detail. I notice everything around me, even when I pretend I don’t.

Hyper-Vigilance & Alertness

After suffering from years of abuse, the body goes into survival mode long after the trauma has ended. The body still believes it is under attack even though the brain has long made you forget anything that ever happened.

The Body Keeps the Score by Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk is an excellent book that describes how a survivor feels long after trauma, and how it affects a person in every aspect of life.

Trauma survivors feel jittery, on edge, restless, jumpy, hyperactive, and excitable all rolled into one big mix of emotions.

It’s weird to feel hyper about everyone and everything around you without understanding why. Your body is on autopilot like a robot.

Years ago, I believed that I was different from other people. I didn’t seem to react in the same way people did to noise and emotions. It’s tiring to live like this because you react to every little stimulus that hits you during the day.

You see everyone and everything through a magnifying glass.

A misfiring exhaust on a car can trigger a survivor to instinctively curl into a ball and shy away from the noise. The smell of perspiration in a gym can trigger a survivor right back to the abuse. A crying child can break you out in hives and make you want to ball with pain from sympathy. Heading downtown to shop or even going to your local food market can be exhausting.

Any perceived threats along the way are neutralized by taking a different route or avoiding certain people. This is called dissociation because you disconnect from all stimuli, become numb, and switch off. Life becomes too much. Without addressing the reason why life becomes exhausting, we suffer all over again.

Hyper-arousal

I can only speak about my own experiences as a sexual abuse and trauma survivor when talking about hyper-arousal. It is not something many people admit or talk about because it’s embarrassing and private.

My body was constantly “turned on.” There was no off switch after years of having been “a sex toy.” My body just couldn’t turn itself off. The damage was done.

Living without an off switch brings many problems in later life. As a child, I always struggled to go to the bathroom. I had so many “wet accidents” and smelly discharge. In later life, I’ve always struggled with stress incontinence, like a woman gets after childbirth for a while, or I imagine a symptom of old age. My “little problem” has always been there.

Hyper-sensitivity

A survivor of trauma is always going to be a sensitive and emotional human being, no matter how much you try to hide it through dissociation. It’s always there. I am more attuned to my surroundings and people than others appear to be. People in general have this seemingly “I don’t care” attitude, going through life with a neutral face. We often read on the subway or switch off listening to music or podcasts. We do anything not to be in the moment.

I care about the people around me, and I bend over backward at the cost of my own health to help a wronged human being. I know I do it, but I feel I must help someone in need, whether it is an old lady needing help to cross the street, or a child falling over.

Boundaries are difficult to understand, especially boundaries towards yourself.

I am lucky to collaborate with people who look out for me, and don’t let me work too much. I have always been taken advantage of in the past, but now I am finally learning the importance of having a break.

Relaxation

Relaxation is probably one of the most difficult things to do as a survivor. The body is consistently hyper all over. To relax or even think about relaxing means allowing yourself to feel. That is dangerous because that is when you remember. Your memories come flooding back, and your body reminds you of all the past hurts.

Being on the move and letting your body remain in hyperdrive throughout life is much easier than relaxing. Most people relish the thought of relaxing, but survivors tend to do anything to avoid it. Even if they appear to be relaxed. I can guarantee that they are anything but relaxed.

How to begin to learn to relax

I have always loved water, even though it’s also a source of great pain for me. It was one of the places where I was first sexually abused as a child. I also witnessed a woman being raped and killed in a river. Since then, I’ve worked hard to try to overcome my fear of water. It was, after all, not the water that caused my fear, but the activities in it.

Eventually, I managed to conquer my fear and reset my thinking. I taught myself to have fun and relax in water instead of feeling terrified. Swimming is a great way of relaxing without being still. When I’m in water, I am alone with my thoughts, and no one can talk to me and disrupt me. I can focus on my body and my breathing while my brain can switch off or mull over a problem. Whatever is on my mind, I usually surface feeling better.

If you are a survivor like me, try to see if being in water can help you too.

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:

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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

Trauma has a way of forcing children into positions that protect the household at their own expense. The child who vanishes into silence learns to survive by reducing their emotional footprint, and adults misread that stillness as emotional maturity.

Many parents confront the shock years later when that quiet child grows into an adult who keeps distance, offers little emotional language, and seems unreachable. The instinct is to call it narcissism. The behavior looks similar on the surface. Both narcissistic adults and avoidant adults can appear detached, self-directed, and uncomfortable with closeness.

That superficial overlap fools people into believing the causes match. They do not.

• Narcissism is built on entitlement and exploitation.
• Avoidant attachment is built on fear and self-protection.

Children raised in high-tension environments learn the rules fast.

• Emotional expression comes with consequences.
• Loudness attracts conflict.
• Tears amplify chaos.
• Needs create interruptions the home cannot withstand.

The child who watches this learns to eliminate their own visibility. They become well-behaved. They expect nothing. They sleep through the night because waking adults feels dangerous. They develop a quiet reflex that stays with them long after the danger is gone. This is not early maturity; it is early adaptation.

Avoidant attachment is a nervous system strategy. It trains the child to regulate alone. They resolve their own distress in silence because it feels safer than risking emotional exposure. Over time, they carry this pattern into adulthood. They communicate in short sentences. They withdraw instead of argue. They offer factual statements instead of warmth. They rarely initiate contact but respond when approached gently. Their emotional range appears narrow, but it is not absent. It is contained to avoid adding pressure to people they care about.

Narcissism carries an entirely different architecture. It depends on admiration, exploitation, and the chronic need to control others for internal regulation.

• Where avoidance retreats from closeness, narcissism pulls people in.
• Where avoidance fears burdening others, narcissism demands attention regardless of the cost.
• A narcissistic individual punishes boundaries. An avoidant individual often respects them because clear limits remove emotional guesswork.

The outer behavior may look similar in brief interactions, but the inner motive is nothing alike.

Parents who assume they “created a narcissist” often carry guilt they never deserved. They did not raise a self-centered adult. They raised a child who learned that invisibility kept the peace. Trauma work shows this pattern repeatedly.

The quiet child grows into an adult who avoids conflict by reducing emotional presence whether in person, on the phone, or through email and text. Their distance is not a sign of superiority. It is a residue of early hypervigilance. They learned that anything loud enough to be noticed could escalate into something dangerous.

Understanding this difference can change the entire trajectory of a strained parent–child relationship. When the parent stops treating the adult child like a narcissistic threat, the parent becomes calmer, clearer, and more consistent. Avoidant individuals do not respond to emotional pushing. They respond to steadiness. They warm slowly, without theatrics. Their contact comes in small, reliable increments. They will not chase connection, but they do not reject it when it arrives safely.

The danger of mislabeling avoidance as narcissism is simple.

• Narcissism requires firm distance and self-protection.
• Avoidance requires patient presence from someone who does not demand emotional performance.

Mixing the two leads to unnecessary cutoffs and reinforces the child’s belief that closeness is unsafe. Many parents discover that the adult child, once seen as cold, is actually careful, and that their emotional restraint comes from survival experience rather than a personality disorder.

The quiet child was not narcissistic. They were trained by circumstance to reduce the weight they placed on the household. Their emotional distance in adulthood is the same survival method, just dressed in grown-up clothing. When approached through a trauma-accurate lens, that distance becomes understandable. From there, connection is possible, not through force, but through steady, low-pressure contact that does not activate old reflexes.

Trauma reorganizes the behavior of children who never had the chance to be anything other than adaptive. The quiet ones internalized everything to protect everyone. They carried that lesson into adulthood because no one told their nervous system it was safe to let it go. Recognizing the distinction between emotional avoidance and narcissism is not an act of forgiveness. It is an act of accuracy.

And accuracy, in trauma work, is what makes healing possible.

References:

Bruce D. Perry (Note: Often paired with Baylin, but you didn’t list him here. Including in case you meant Hughes & Baylin’s co-authored work with Perry. If not, ignore.)

Daniel A. Hughes — clinical psychologist known for Dyadic Developmental Psychotherapy and attachment trauma work.

Jon G. Baylin — neuropsychologist specializing in trauma, attachment, and brain-based parenting interventions; co-author with Hughes.

Bessel A. van der Kolk — psychiatrist and trauma researcher; author of The Body Keeps the Score.

Stephen W. Porges — neuroscientist; creator of the Polyvagal Theory and researcher in autonomic regulation and trauma.

Daniel J. Siegel — psychiatrist; pioneer in interpersonal neurobiology, trauma-informed development, and attachment research.

Journal of Traumatic Stress

Development and Psychopathology

Nature Communications (structural brain change study)

American Journal of Psychiatry

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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