Unresolved trauma doesn’t just live in the past—it lives in the body. It shapes how we breathe, how we relate, how we protect ourselves. For years, I didn’t know I was living in a trauma response. I just thought I was “too sensitive,” “too much,” or “not enough.”
But the truth is, I was surviving. And survival is sacred. It’s also exhausting.
There was a season when I felt like I was in fight, flight, freeze, and fawn, all at the same time. My body was bracing for impact, even in moments of stillness. I over-explained, over-accommodated, disappeared, and lashed out, sometimes all in the same day. I reached for unhealthy coping mechanisms that promised relief but ultimately helped destroy parts of my life I deeply loved.
I didn’t know then that my nervous system was dysregulated. I didn’t know that trauma could live in the body long after the danger had passed. I just knew I was tired of pretending to be okay.
The Science: How Trauma Affects the Body and Mind
Research shows that unresolved trauma can:
• Keep the nervous system stuck in survival mode (fight, flight, freeze, or fawn)
• Disrupt sleep, digestion, and immune function
• Increase risk for anxiety, depression, and chronic illness
• Impair memory, concentration, and emotional regulation
Trauma isn’t just what happened, it’s what happened inside us as a result. And healing isn’t about “getting over it.” It’s about gently reconnecting with the parts of ourselves we had to abandon to survive.
The Turning Point: From Coping to Healing
My healing began when I stopped trying to fix myself and started listening. I let Christ into the places I had hidden. I stopped performing peace and started practicing it. I learned to breathe again. To feel again. To forgive myself for surviving in ways that weren’t sustainable.
Healing didn’t come all at once. It came in sacred spirals, through rituals, therapy, scripture, and stillness. Through boundaries that honored my peace. Through writing that told the truth.
And now, I offer this post as a gentle invitation: not to rush your healing, but to honor it.
Self-Awareness Assessment: How Is Trauma Showing Up in Your Life?
Check any that resonate with you:
• ☐ I often feel on edge, even in safe environments
• ☐ I struggle to rest or feel guilty when I do
• ☐ I over-explain or over-apologize in relationships
• ☐ I avoid conflict at all costs, even when it harms me
• ☐ I feel emotionally numb or disconnected from my body
• ☐ I use substances, work, or distractions to avoid feeling
• ☐ I have chronic pain, fatigue, or digestive issues with no clear cause
• ☐ I feel like I’m “too much” or “not enough” no matter what I do
If you checked several of these, your body may be carrying unprocessed trauma. This isn’t a diagnosis, it’s an invitation to be curious and compassionate with yourself.
Reflection Prompts for Gentle Healing
Use these in your journal, prayer time, or quiet reflection:
1. What survival strategies did I learn that helped me cope but now feel heavy or harmful?
2. Where in my body do I feel tension, tightness, or numbness?
What might that part of me need?
3. What would it look like to feel safe in my own skin?
In my relationships?
4. What boundaries or rituals could help me honor my healing today?
A Final Word of Grace
You are not broken. You are not behind. You are not too much. You are a survivor with a story that deserves tenderness, not shame. Healing is not about erasing the past—it’s about reclaiming your wholeness.
If this resonates, I invite you to take one small step today: a breath, a prayer, a boundary, a journal entry. Healing begins with honesty. And you don’t have to do it alone.
Prayer for Protection, Release, and Reconciliation
Lord Jesus Christ,
Three Rituals For Cleansing and Releasing
1. “The Anointed Release” – A Somatic Forgiveness Ritual
Not Knowing Might Be the Most Honest Thing We Do
There’s this quote from Agnostic Front that’s been rattling around in my head lately:
“I am an agnostic; I do not pretend to know what many ignorant men are sure of.”
It’s not flashy. Not poetic. But it hits like a brick wrapped in velvet.
We live in a world that worships certainty. Everyone’s got a hot take, a blueprint, a 5-step plan to fix your soul, your marriage, your bank account. Scroll long enough and you’ll find someone selling salvation in a carousel post. But here’s the thing, most of us are just winging it. And the ones who admit that? They’re usually the ones I trust most.
I don’t know what happens after we die. I don’t know why some people get miracles and others get silence. I don’t know why love sometimes feels like war, or why grief shows up in the cereal aisle. But I do know this: pretending to know doesn’t make the ache go away. It just makes us louder.
There’s a quiet kind of wisdom in saying, “I don’t know.” It leaves room for mystery. For grace. For the kind of faith that doesn’t need a megaphone.
Agnostic Front wasn’t trying to be philosophers. They were just calling out the noise. The bravado. The certainty that feels more like armor than truth. And maybe that’s the invitation: to lay down our need to be right and pick up something softer. Something more honest.
So here’s to the not-knowers. The question-askers. The ones who sit in the tension and still choose love. You’re not lost. You’re just real.
Trauma We Carry
There’s a silence that follows trauma.
Learning To Free Yourself of Things That Aren’t Ours To Carry
For a long time, I lived in the “why.”
Not Every Enemy Is Mutual
When Survival Becomes a Cage: Healing the Hidden Effects of Trauma
Unresolved trauma doesn’t just live in the past—it lives in the body. It shapes how we breathe, how we relate, how we protect ourselves. For years, I didn’t know I was living in a trauma response. I just thought I was “too sensitive,” “too much,” or “not enough.”
Not Knowing Might Be the Most Honest Thing We Do
There’s this quote from Agnostic Front that’s been rattling around in my head lately: