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.

Just because something is helpful for you to hear does not mean it won’t harm others

If I could distill everything from It’s Not All Good, my digital guide unpacking spiritual bypassing, into one sentence: this would be it.

Just because something is helpful for you to hear does not mean it won’t harm others.

Something can be supportive to us in our process, and it can feel harmful to others at the same time. This doesn’t negate its value to us, and this doesn’t pardon its harmful impact others might feel. Both can (and often do) exist at the same time.

We might also find that the things that we need to hear change. I know I’ve found this (and am still discovering these shifts!) as life spirals its way through me and my healing journey. Feel free to let me know below if that rings true for you.

If you’re feeling curious, you’re invited to explore how spiritual bypassing phrases might have been a buoy on your journey and contributed to your survival, and make space for the possibility that they can also cause harm.

In this guide there are invitations to explore somatically, using your felt sense and journaling prompts, and together we unpack 13 phrases and discover new compassionate language to use.

Creating this workbook has been one of my greatest joys. I strive to be gentle, trauma-informed, and anti-oppressive. I also strove (strove? hm okay I dunno but we’re going with it.) to make it pretty cute. Did it work? Click here to find out.

🌈✨ Jess

I want a world we don't have to recover from

I want to world we don’t have to recover from.

I want a world where crying doesn’t only happen 50 minutes a week in therapy and in the middle of a sleepless night.

I want a world where caregivers are supported and children are safe and loved.

I want a world where we check on each other, not as a transaction but because we have the capacity to see a wilting sunflower in our neighbor’s garden, offer water.

I want a world with clear air and reparations.

I want a world where emotional literacy, anti-racism, and nervous system nourishment are core teachings.

I want a world where we have space to lick our wounds in every iteration our being deems necessary and tend gently to others’.

I want a world where we trust our bodies, and trust others not to trespass them.

I want a world where empathy and accountability hold hands; where we seek to understand why humans hurt one another and also hold ourselves accountable for the harm we cause.

A world where we are supported to grow and do better, and to repair after our very human mistakes.

I want a world where we can cry or dance or sing at a stoplight. Where we can pull over to absolutely lose it and not be afraid of who might come to call.

I want a world where we can knock on doors.

I want a world where emotions aren’t relegated to the knitting of eyebrows and banished to hip bones, the darkness of muscle swaddling tears and grief.

I want a world where we can live out in the open and be received like falling into ten different warm and outstretched arms.

I want a world that isn’t here yet, the one I hope we’re building.

What kind of world do you want?