Sometimes the things that happened to us are unspeakable but often our body knows the words

Sometimes the things that happened to us are unspeakable but often our body knows the words, holds the experience, makes muscle memory of the truth. Somatic knowing and memories are valid, even without the traditional narrative that so many expect.

In a world that doesn’t make space for survivors’ stories and truth, the body can be testament. The body can be holy ground of hot knowing and surefire knowledge.

And as humans with brains in a society that gaslights, dismisses, minimizes and pathologizes, even the brilliance of our body might come into question from our brain from time to time.

Perhaps our body has a knowing that doesn’t pour itself into 26 letters and words. Perhaps our body speaks to us through symptoms, symbols and dreams, whatever it takes to unleash the truth and dare (or hope) to be heard. However your body expresses its held experiences, this truth, your truth, is believed and held here. So are you.

Bodybased practices can be challenging for survivors

If you are on a journey of healing from traumatic experiences, it’s possible you are often coached, advised and encouraged to get in touch with your body, connect with your senses, and get embodied.

And while the practice of connecting with our bodies can absolutely be helpful for survivors, it can also feel daunting. Unsafe. Overwhelming.

I want to connect with you about this journey of reconnecting with our bodies, and why it might feel difficult. I hope these words feel supportive and helpful. I hope it comes through that I hold close to my chest the knowing that everyone is on their own journey, that this isn’t a good/bad binary, and that what feels scary at one point can potentially shift. I hope upon reading these words you are reminded that you’re not alone in this struggle, and that this particular challenge might not be a forever challenge.

When you’re ready, let’s gently begin.

Embodiment practices might feel scary or overwhelming if our body has been harmed, violated, and traumatized. Bodybased practices might not feel safe for us, and a lot can come up. Our nervous system might mobilize, and we might experience collapse/dissociation, or activation/flight/fight, just to name a few of the possibilities.

If this has been your experience, there is likely wisdom in these nervous system responses. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you; it might mean you need more or different supports. It might mean your nervous system needs loving attention while you engage in this body based practice. It might mean a different practice or practitioner would be more supportive to you and your process.

Part of what can be challenging is that when folks are offering bodybased practices and they aren’t trauma-informed, we might not get the support and adaptations we need. They might not have an understanding of the nervous system that they can share with us and use to support us through what comes up. They might not have trauma sensitive practices in place. And when this is lacking, and we feel retraumatized through the practices, we might blame ourselves or feel shame.

And then, maybe we avoid bodybased practices because they don’t feel safe for us. Even if part of us feels or thinks: I know this could be healing for me. I did this for a long time, way back in my healing. I could not be in a closed door in a yoga class with a group of folks and a teacher I didn’t know. I just couldn’t. I felt closed off, but I was also deeply rooted to my own wisdom. Something in me was saying: not this. Not yet.

Sometimes what feels like the edgiest lifelong forever “no” is really a “not yet” or “not like this” or “not with you”. And maybe that’s okay.

At the same time, I was working with a somatic practitioner in a relationship I trusted. Doing bodybased work in a setting where all of me could be attended to. And building up not only safety and safe experiences with this somatic work, but capacity for it, too.

I could write for a long time about the journey of survivors and trauma-informed body based practices. I wholly believe they can be so important for the healing journey. AND. I don’t believe survivors should be rushed, shoulded on or shamed. I trust survivors. When they say: bodybased work or this certain bodybased practice doesn’t feel safe for me, I believe that. It is their body, after all.

This wisdom is to be trusted. Consent is of utmost importance. Autonomy is to be nurtured. We must not try to weasel someone’s no into a yes, just because we think such-and-such thing would be good for them. For the love of Pete! ..Whoever Pete is. I have always wondered.

And in my other hand, I want to extend a small thread of hope to anyone reading who feels like bodybased practices are inaccessible. Some of them are. Right now, many might be inaccessible for you. I get that and trust that. And. Maybe there is just the tiniest possibility of building a bridge into your body, embodiment, and somatics. The steps can be small. The bridge’s material can be made of whatever you need it to be. The path might be windy, full of fits and starts.

You might not feel like you are doing much, with one foot teetering on the edge of the bridge. But even imagining the possibility of connecting with your body, for someone who has survived immense harm, is brave and huge. I see you in that. Perhaps, for right now, if this is where you are, just considering. It might not feel like enough, but with so much compassion and warmth I want to remind you that what is small can be like a stone in water, with ripples shimmering endless.

Sending you support wherever you are in this journey.

From my pond to yours,

Jess

It is not trauma informed to tell survivors to “stop playing the victim”

I understand why we say the things we do. And still, I’m going to call us in about it. Here’s one:

It is not trauma informed to tell survivors to “stop playing the victim”.

⋒ Stop playing the victim

⋒ Drop the victim card

⋒ Stop victimizing yourself

How many of us have heard this?

How many of us have said this?

We might say this because we have heard this before (this is common for so many spiritual bypassing phrases- we repeat the lines we have heard), or we have needed to believe this in order to survive a situation in which we were harmed (another super smart-wise-brilliant [and okay yeah when it comes to spiritual bypassing, harmful] survival strategy).

Today I’m here to tell you that:

⋒ IT’S UNDERSTANDABLE

to want control, agency, or empowerment in a disempowering, violent or harmful situation.

⋒ & YET, IT’S STILL NOT

trauma-informed, kind or appropriate to say to someone. It implies someone chose the harm they suffered. And they didn’t! I repeat: and they didn’t! This is gravely offensive & insensitive. May we watch our language.

I have so much compassion for the reasons we say the things we do, and so much compassion for folks who are harmed by the things we sometimes say. If you’d like to explore with someone (me!) who holds both empathy and accountability, and will invite you into a somatic journaling process of unlearning spiritual bypassing and discovering kind and just language — you might just love the guide I made for you! If this calls to you, you can find It’s Not All Good here.

With the boths & the ands but none of the bullshit,

Jess

How can traumaversaries impact us?

Hi friends,

I am writing to you today about traumaversaries. Did I make up that word? Maybe. It’s just trauma + anniversary, gently smushed together. These tricky little beasts (I say that mostly lovingly) can affect many spheres of our lives. As a survivor, writer, and trauma-informed educator, I am honored to share a bit about how traumaversaries can touch us. This is my world in many ways. And maybe it’s yours too.

If you have ever experienced an uptick of emotions, intrusive thoughts, sudden memories, flashbacks, weird (or maybe familiar but in an “ugh why are you back I thought I was done with you?” kind of way) bodily sensations, and disturbed sleep or freaky dreams -- you might be processing an upcoming traumaversary.

A whole slew of other things could also be happening, but for today, I’m going to focus on traumaversaries and what might come up when one is coming around.

We might experience:

⁍ Intrusive thoughts

⁍ Fixated, cyclical or obsessive thoughts

⁍ Memories and flashbacks

⁍ Big swells of feeling, including (but not limited to) grief, depression, irritation, and rage; feelings that overwhelm us; and feelings that change quickly

We might experience things on a body level because trauma can hang around in our body. We might experience anxiety and more busy-ness in our brains as we scramble to make sense of what’s happening, or outsmart danger. We might re-experience traumatic experiences in present time.

If you’re like: “yeah yeah, I already live with all that.” — I get it. For many survivors and folks living with complex trauma, these things can be the norm. And, when a trauma anniversary is around the corner, we might notice more of these things, an increase in intensity, and (everyone’s favorite): The Things We Thought We Were Done With.

Big sigh, and a moment of silence for every time we thought we were done with something and then it came back around to visit.

Here’s what can make Hard Things™️ even harder: we might not be conscious of an upcoming traumaversary when these things come up, and so it can feel not only shitty, but also overwhelming and confusing.

Friends, I want to support you in navigating these traumaversaries with as much care, grit, and grace as you can. And with a good plan - I am a Capricorn with Virgo placements, after all. (And the pandemic has made me plannier - so much feels out of my control and I do. not. like. it.)

I’ve been hinting at my latest project, and this is it! I wrote us 30+ pages all about traumaversaries, coping, and guidance for creating your own care plan. It’s validating and fiercely gentle, it’s psychoeducational with trauma-informed breaks, it’s part journal and part dear-friend-who-gets-it-because-they’ve-been-there. I tried my best to speak from my heart and hold space for your unique experience.

If this guide can make a shitty day even a little bit more bearable? I will be so happy. Because I have had these shitty days too, and I have needed a resource like this. And as usual, it doesn’t exist. And as usual, I stayed up way too late making it.

So here it is, for you, if you’d like to add Tending to Traumaversaries to your library.

Love you lots,

Jess

What is a Traumaversary?

If you have ever experienced strange (or deeply familiar) bodily sensations, flashbacks, returns to old coping strategies, and waves of grief and sadness (among many other possibilities) before the anniversary of a traumatic event rolled around - you might have experienced a natural response to a traumaversary.

Traumaversaries are the anniversaries of traumatic events, and these times can be so tender and potent. A lot can emerge, including things we might have felt “done with.” It’s natural to experience flashbacks, big feelings, old coping strategies, and physical and somatic sensations.

Our body and being can remember the timing of a past traumatic event. Just as certain smells and sounds can trigger a trauma response, certain days, times of year, and holidays might bring up residual trauma and re-experiencing.

Sometimes, our being remembers concurrently with our brain, and we know we are in the thick of a traumaversary. At other times, we might not consciously realize what is happening. This can feel especially confusing and overwhelming, as the responses we are experiencing can seemingly come out of nowhere.

Everyone’s experience with traumaversaries is as unique as their being and as their traumatic experiences. And there are some common threads. If you feel alone in the struggle of making it through traumaversaries, know that many survivors struggle silently, or with those closest to them.

Traumaversaries have a tender place in my heart, and so do all of you.

In the coming week, I’m going to be sharing more about traumaversaries and offering some support around navigating them, including my upcoming guide - Tending To Traumaversaries. This offering comes from a very soft and fierce place in my heart. As often happens, I am offering you the support I have needed myself.

I hope that even if this offering isn’t right for you at this time, these posts feel supportive of your healing and can help remind you that no matter how lonely it can be as a survivor, we are never alone.

And if this does sound like something you are needing, click here to learn more. I’d love to offer up a bit of support.

Love and care to you all,

Jess

Climate grief is valid grief

I wrote a whole post about grief last night and on the surface it had nothing to do with climate collapse. But living on Chumash and Micqanaqa’n land in California, climate collapse has been on my mind. And today I am present to the grief that can come with it, and that you might be feeling, so I’m checking in.

These times are asking us to adapt, and that is no small thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about how situations we live through require us to adapt and adjust. This is part of my lived experience and woven into my working framework: adaptive coping mechanisms, survival strategies, compensation patterns and funky workarounds that reach for their own makeshift balance in the body. There can be a brilliance here in our survival.

It might be that this living world needs something similar from us. Our willingness to listen, to get present to what is happening, to hear and hold the grief, carry it as our own and everyone else’s too. It might be that this living world needs us to adapt and find new ways (and old ways) so that we can keep surviving. To act from this place of truth-full witnessing. And we might be, right-in-this-very-moment, living into these adaptations, which can be both crucial and taxing.

I don’t have a tidy ending today. I know there is more to say, and so many intersections of oppression and privilege present in the subject of climate collapse. We can keep discussing and exploring. For now, I want to send so much gentleness and care to anyone navigating fires, smokey air, power outages, evacuation, climate grief, and oppression in all forms. There can be a lot to be present to, impacted by, sitting with, living through and adapting to.

So many of us are in this woven web. May we be both strong and gentle with every thread. May we honor this grief.