Returning from a retreat where body, mind, and emotions came together in profound therapeutic processes, I carry with me the depth of what unfolded. I had the privilege of witnessing a group of brave souls engage with their inner landscapes; some releasing trauma long held in their bodies, all reconnecting with themselves and each other in ways so beautiful that they transcend words. Yet, in witnessing the ravages of wars and the rise of political follies, we so often lose sight of the beauty of our humanity. And it is precisely within this humanity that the antidote to such destruction can be found. We often feel the need to shield the core of our being, our beauty, our love, behind a thick wall, a kind of armor. This armor takes shape in response to life’s tragedies; what psychology calls “trauma”. Its purpose is to protect us. But as we move beyond the initial wound and grow, this protection can become the very thing that stifles us, preventing us from expressing our authentic selves and reaching for our heart’s desire. And therein lies the deeper tragedy.
In this piece, I will explore the origins of trauma, how love and loss shape us, and the ways in which unprocessed wounds keep us from a fulfilling life. I will also delve into the anatomy of trauma, how it imprints itself on both the body and mind, and why it feels so difficult to acknowledge, face, and ultimately overcome. My readings, my training and practice in body-oriented psychotherapy, Core Energetics, and my own personal process form the foundation of what I share here.
“It seems to me that if we love, we grieve, that’s the deal, that’s the pact. Grief and love are forever intertwined. Grief is the terrible reminder of the depth of our love, and like love, grief is non-negotiable.” ~Nick Cave
We are all beings of love. And we come into this world with a tremendous capacity to love. It is manifested in the child’s innocence and trust; an open, unwounded heart. But life, as it unfolds, brings its challenges, and the biggest and most common of all is loss: the loss of love for oneself, for another, for life itself. It often takes shape through experiences of rejection, neglect, abandonment, separation, humiliation, injustice, betrayal, violation, violence or the passing of a loved one. Such experiences, especially those lived in early childhood called “developmental trauma”, leave a deep imprint on our system and our body.
Like the rest of life, our childhood holds both painful and joyful moments. The good ones nourish us, empower us, expand our capacity for freedom, and allow us to give and receive love. They create space within us to embrace both the pleasant and the difficult aspects of life. The painful ones teach us how to adapt, how to survive.
Every child, in one way or another, experiences loss, whether visible or invisible, justified or not, it leaves its mark. To cope, the body and mind develop defense mechanisms, survival strategies that draw from our innate gifts to protect our nervous system while reinforcing, yet often suppressing, these very gifts, and revealing our resilience. This process also gives rise to what we call “character armoring”, physiologically anchored in chronic muscular tension.
Yet, often, the very defenses that once shielded us become the very patterns that later hold us back, obscuring our clarity and stalling our growth and fulfilment. As this tension deepens, so does our fear of a life rooted in independence, freedom, intimacy and joy. This is how we become estranged from ourselves, how we grow alienated from the deepest and most natural feelings of life. As a consequence, what could not emerge organically from within is instead sought from the outside.
At times, this very fear becomes the foundation upon which external forces (political, social, or otherwise) exert control. The more alienated one is from oneself, the more disconnected from life itself, and the more susceptible one becomes to external dominion.
“Perhaps everything terrifying is deep down a helpless thing that needs our help” Rainer Maria Rilke
Self-observation reveals the ways in which these imprints shape us, not just in obvious reactions but in the subtlest of ways: the hesitation to ask for what we need, the instinct to hide our heart, the quiet shame that surfaces when we dare to expose our most vulnerable longings. This betrayal of the self is imperceptible yet profound. It is the conflict at the core of the soul, the place where we suppress not only our capacity for love but also the highest and most noble parts of ourselves. And with this betrayal comes a weight, a silent burden of shame and guilt that lingers beneath the surface, shaping the way we move through the world.
The greater the love we’ve lost, the deeper the trauma, the greater our distrust in ourselves, others and in life itself. The earlier this loss is experienced, the more deeply it imprints itself into our being. As a foundation for the following descriptions, I draw from The Body Keeps the Score, in which Bessel van der Kolk offers a profound exploration of how trauma shapes us, as well as from my readings and my training in body-oriented psychotherapy.
As I explore in my work, trauma in its essence is unbearable. It overwhelms the nervous system with intense emotional response. This can include fear, terror, helplessness, powerlessness, pain, humiliation, disgust, violation, rage, violence, despair and shock. In the case of sexual abuse, another deeply distressing involuntary physiological reaction may occur: unwanted sexual arousal. This can be profoundly confusing. It is essential to understand that such bodily responses are automatic and do not imply consent or desire. This involuntary arousal can occur alongside fear, freezing, and pain, underscoring the nervous system’s non-concordant response to trauma. Survivors should know that this reaction is entirely involuntary and in no way diminishes the fact that they have been violated.
When an experience is too sudden, too intense, or beyond what the system can metabolize, the body and mind are flooded: fear, terror, powerlessness, or a sense of paralysis take hold. To protect itself, the system activates survival responses:
- Fight: The body mobilizes its energy to attack.
- Flight: The body mobilizes its energy to flee.
- Collapse: Energy drains from the body.
- Freeze: Energy is trapped, preparing the body to endure while minimizing pain.
- Numbing: A further extension of the freeze response, dulling sensations and emotions, creating a sense of emptiness or disconnection.
- Dissociation: A feeling of fragmentation or detachment from one’s body or surroundings.
Long after the danger or shock has passed, the body continues to defend itself against a threat that is no longer there. Conditioned by trauma, the nervous system reacts to the present as if it were the past, anticipating harm and bracing against an enemy that no longer exists. Over time, these repetitions form the basis of deeply ingrained patterns that keep us stuck, shaping the way we relate to ourselves, others, and the world. They manifest as self-sabotaging behaviors, recurring conflicts, addictions, difficulties in trust and intimacy, or a persistent sense of being unable to move forward. Without awareness and integration, the past continues to dictate the present, robbing us of our objectivity, reinforcing cycles of suffering that seem impossible to break.
This also sheds light on why our minds so often dwell on the past or race ahead to the future; why we overthink, and why being “in the now” may feel like a struggle. Recognizing this should invite compassion rather than judgment. With this awareness, we can approach ourselves with greater care, tending to our nervous system as we navigate the demands of daily life.
“You are rather a sort of nerve ending through which the universe is taking a peek at itself. Which is why, deep down inside, almost everyone has a vague sense of eternity.” ~Alan Watts
Advances in neuroscience and PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) Research, conducted on war veterans, victims of car crashes and child abuse amongst others, have deepened our understanding of how overwhelming experiences reshape our brain, our innermost sensations and our relationship to physical reality. Bessel van der Kolk highlights the following deep physiological imprint of trauma on the mind and body:
- The Emotional Brain: The Limbic System
Trauma hyperactivates the amygdala, a small almond-shaped structure deep within the brain, keeping the body in a state of constant vigilance. This chronic activation fuels anxiety, fear, and an exaggerated startle response, making it feel as though danger is always imminent. The hippocampus, responsible for memory processing, can become impaired, leading to fragmented recollections and difficulty distinguishing past from present. This explains why trauma is often recalled through isolated sensations, emotions, or images rather than as a coherent narrative, which further complicates integration. The hypothalamus dysregulates stress hormones, keeping the body trapped in cycles of anxiety, emotional overwhelm, and physical symptoms such as disrupted sleep, digestive issues, immune dysfunction, and chronic disease.
- The Executive Brain: The Prefrontal Cortex
The prefrontal cortex helps regulate emotions, assess situations rationally, and regain a sense of agency. Trauma reduces prefrontal activity, which impairs the ability to think clearly, “stay present,” or regulate emotions effectively. Instead, control shifts toward survival mechanisms leading to emotional dysregulation and making it challenging to regain a sense of safety and perspective. Notably, this impairment is also a recognized indicator of Attention Deficit Disorder (ADHD).
- Interoception: The Awareness of Internal States
The insula, another deep-seated region of the brain, plays a key role in interoception; the ability to sense and interpret internal bodily states. It allows us to feel present in our bodies and recognize emotions as they arise. Trauma disrupts the insula, leading to numbness, dissociation, or difficulty recognizing and processing emotions. This disconnect makes it challenging to feel safe, engage fully with life, or trust one’s bodily experiences. As a result, many struggle to tolerate uncomfortable emotions such as anger, frustration, sadness, pain, or even boredom. This leads to avoidance rather than integration and can create distance in relationships, making others feel as though the authentic expression of these emotions is unwelcome.
- Proprioception: The Body’s Spatial Awareness
Proprioception, our sense of where we are in space and how we move, is essential for feeling grounded and having a sense of agency over our bodies. Governed by the cerebellum, parietal lobe, basal ganglia, and Inner ear balance system, it allows for balance, coordination, and spatial awareness. Trauma disrupts this connection, making victims feel disoriented, clumsy, or disconnected from their physical presence. Moreover, trauma shuts down the inner compass, which weakens the ability to trust one’s instincts. As a result, boundaries blur, and the ability to navigate sensations, emotions, and relationships with confidence becomes compromised.
- Broca’s Area and the Loss of Words
Broca’s area, responsible for speech production, can shut down under extreme stress, rendering it difficult for trauma survivors to put their experiences into words. This explains why many of them struggle to verbalise what happened, sometimes feeling mute and frozen even years later.
- Nervous System Regulation and the Role of the Vagus Nerve
All the above named processes are deeply interconnected through the nervous system, which trauma dysregulates. As a result, one becomes trapped in cycles of hyperarousal (panic, anxiety, anger) or hypoarousal (numbness, shutdown, dissociation). At the centre of this regulation is the vagus nerve, which plays a crucial role in shifting between fight-or-flight (sympathetic activation) and calm and connection (parasympathetic regulation). Trauma impairs vagal tone, making it harder to recover from stress and return to a state of safety.
In his book, Bessel van der Kolk recounts striking examples of how these neurological and psychological patterns play out in daily life, illustrating the distorted and often unconscious ways trauma shapes perception, self-blame, and emotional responses. Furthermore, he shows how simply knowing that one’s reactions are irrational does not dissolve the feelings associated with them. Trauma not only shapes perception but also embeds itself in a person’s sense of self.
Beyond the initial wound, many carry a deep and often unconscious burden, not just from what was done to them, but from how they responded, what they did or what they “failed” to do. It is well-documented in war veterans, who often experience deep remorse over their actions or inaction under extreme circumstances. The same is true for victims of childhood trauma, who may struggle with confusion about whether they were victims or somehow complicit in (sometimes, even instigators of) their own suffering. Trauma distorts one’s understanding of good and evil, safety and threat, pain and pleasure, love and fear. It fosters self-doubt.
At its core, the deepest wound left by trauma is the loss of connection; to others, but most crucially, to oneself, to the certainty of one’s own experience. Was it real, or did I make it up? Trauma not only distorts perception; it severs the trust we have in our sensations, in the truth of what happened, and in the reliability of our emotions. The body becomes something to escape, silence, or control. Yet, our body is our greatest ally. Although it holds the imprints of our trauma, our body also holds the key to our transformation.
“The maintenance of secrets acts like a psychic poison which alienates the possessor from the community” ~Carl Gustav Jung
Transformation requires reclaiming our truth. Trauma is often accompanied by secrecy, guilt, shame, or a sense of isolation, leaving many trapped in silence. But truth is not just a personal experience; it is relational. As we begin to acknowledge our inner reality, we also challenge the unspoken narratives that keep us from living authentically.
In this process, it is very important to understand that bringing up unpleasant memories, does not negate or erase all our beautiful, loving and joyful ones. Recognizing that we have lived through childhood trauma, may feel like an act of betrayal, especially in cultures such as ours where community is central to our identity. Yet, in truth, it is an act of bravery, one that fosters healing not just for the individual but for the whole. By standing in our truth, we do not weaken our community, we fortify it. Truth purifies the air, brings relief, and creates what Naguib Mahfouz called “a place where all attempts to escape cease”. It has a ripple effect. It encourages others who have been wounded to step out of isolation, move through their pain, and reclaim leadership over their own lives. One does not need to deny oneself to belong to a community. And one does not need to deny one’s community to be oneself.
On this journey, though voicing one’s truth outwardly may be the ultimate freedom, the most crucial step is first admitting it to oneself. “The greatest source of suffering comes from the lies we tell ourselves. Healing begins with allowing ourselves to feel what we feel and know what we know. It is rooted in direct experience. We can only regain a sense of agency when we acknowledge the reality of our story and the truth of our bodies in all their visceral dimensions” (Bessel van der Kolk).
Trauma must be faced, acknowledged, moved through, and integrated for a greater sense of wholeness to emerge. It is not an easy task, but it is possible, and its rewards are profound. It is a grieving process, one that requires time, patience, softness, and compassion. Because it asks us to move through discomfort, it comes in waves, repeats itself, and calls us back to what still needs to be felt. But once engaged in, it creates space for subsequent loves to be fully experienced and subsequent losses to be processed and lived through. The path to healing begins with reconnecting to the body, learning to regulate the nervous system, embodying emotions, rewiring neural pathways, and reclaiming one’s rhythm and movement. It is a process of grounding, opening one’s heart, and slowly stepping into one’s power, life force and authentic leadership. The upcoming articles will explore how this journey unfolds.
NB: at times, I referred to extreme cases of trauma that have profoundly impacted those who experienced them, many suffering from PTSD. These cases offer valuable insight into how trauma imprints itself on our biology, immune system, nervous system, mind, emotions, and our capacity for joy and intimacy. I invite you to set aside any tendency toward comparative suffering and instead approach the following words with curiosity and as an opportunity for reflection.
ABOUT THE AUTHOUR
Hella Zouiten is a contributing writer at ELLE Egypt. She is a Core Energetics/ Body-mind integration psychotherapist living in France. If you would like to know more about her, click here.
