World Trauma Day

Healing What Got Stuck

Every October 17, World Trauma Day quietly asks us to look beneath the surface—to notice the invisible bruises the body still carries long after life has “moved on.”

Most people think trauma is the bad thing that happened. But that’s only half the story. The deeper truth? Trauma is what gets stored when the body can’t finish reacting to what happened. It’s like a survival program that never quite shut down.

When something overwhelms us, the nervous system flips into emergency mode: heart racing, muscles tense, breathing shallow. It’s the body doing exactly what it’s meant to do—keep us alive. But if we never get the chance to come down from that state, those stress signals stay stuck in the wiring. We start living as if the fire alarm’s still ringing, even when there’s no smoke left.

And here’s the kicker: you can’t talk a fire alarm into silence.

After more than two years of therapy, I realized my therapist and I were speaking different languages. I kept bringing words to a body that didn’t need more analysis—it needed permission to breathe again. Every time I was asked to relive my trauma, I got worse. At once-a-week visits, that’s a lot of re-activation for a nervous system already overloaded. It works for some people, but it didn't work for me.

So, I did the most unexpected thing: I stopped talking about healing and started writing my way through it. (I have also learned there are plenty of other ways for therapy besides talk therapy, pick the one that works for YOU).

Writing became my form of rewiring. Every page helped finish a loop my nervous system had been trying to close for decades. I learned that trauma healing isn’t about reliving pain—it’s about giving the body a chance to finish what it started. Sometimes that looks like movement, creativity, stillness, or laughter. Anything that tells your system, “Hey, we made it. You can rest now.”

That’s the magic of neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to change its own wiring. Every moment of calm curiosity, every deep breath, every sentence that shifts perspective sends a new signal through the network: safe enough to grow. Over time, those signals build new pathways. The body stops bracing. The brain stops looping. Life starts feeling possible again.

Now you know why I’ve been a little obsessed with neuroplasticity lately—it’s not just science. It’s personal proof that healing doesn’t have to hurt.

So on this World Trauma Day, maybe skip the heavy self-inspection and do something gentle instead. Step outside. Stretch. Write a few words that don’t have to make sense. Hum. Let the body know you’re listening.

Because trauma might have written the first draft of your story—but you get to edit the ending.

(Picture credit: Yours truly. From a world I imagined—one that heals as it grows.)