Returning to Self
The gift of presence
Trauma is such a loaded, almost overused, word sometimes. I try to be careful not to use words in a way that disempowers them, because often they become noise our brain dismisses as soon as they enter the conversation. I learned the concept of alarm fatigue back when I worked in patient monitoring. It’s basically a term used when nurses ignore a blaring alarm because they hear it so often it no longer affects them. It’s the same with words that get thrown around without regard for impact. Words matter. Their impact matters. That said, I’m writing about trauma because there’s a heaviness in the air, I can’t ignore.
The simmer of anger and fear in the collective consciousness makes it difficult to regulate, so we grapple with leaning into a joyous life. The chaos created by external forces makes finding stillness difficult, so we grapple with rest. Everyday stress makes it difficult to focus, so we grapple with all of our unfinished tasks. Even when we try to quiet the noise, especially with social media, our bodies take the energetic hit. This happens all while we’re telling ourselves we’re fine. The primal instinct to survive kicks in. Our nervous system responds to the hit, and it carries the weight of our uncertainty. It’s in our tense muscles. Our fatigue. Our brain fog. Our (insert the thing you’re feeling here).
This is why I find myself writing. Not because I have all the answers, but because I believe in the power of showing up, even when we’re dysregulated, when we’re unsure, or when we’re scared. This is the fabric that makes up our human experience. This is the vulnerability I’ve learned to embrace with grace and love.
I started writing a book on intergenerational trauma a decade ago. There were many reasons why I never published it, but maybe the most important was that during the writing of the book, I found peace. The work became my teacher. My friend. My therapist. It became my undoing. While writing the book, I went to some dark sad places. Allowing myself to enter those dusty old rooms brought me back to self, and it offered me a healing I truly didn’t know was possible. I found forgiveness, release, love, and emotional growth in the crevices of those rooms. The memories stored in those rooms had me so bound I could not access my emotions. I lived solely in my brain and not my body. I was so dysregulated, I always kept the doors of life propped open in case I needed to bolt. So I researched. I read book after book in search of answers. These books gave me a language for what I was experiencing and had experienced throughout my life. In honoring my journey, I’ve decided it’s important to return to what got me here so that I can continue my unfolding. Maybe it can also help you learn a language for what you’re struggling with. Maybe it’ll put you on a path to your own unfolding and bring you back to self.
In Trauma and the Body, Pat Ogden and her co-authors explain something that changed how I see myself and others. Trauma isn’t just about what happened. It’s about how our bodies remember it. When we’re overwhelmed, our nervous system gets stuck in survival mode. We go into fight, flight, freeze, or collapse. (Everyone’s experience is different, so only you can identify the thing that puts your nervous system into overwhelm.) If there’s no safe release, we start to dissociate. This disconnection is protection. It’s a strategy that helps our brain block out fear, anger, pain, or emotions. It’s a powerful tool, until it isn’t. When it’s no longer a reaction to a singular stimulus, it becomes a subconscious response we are no longer aware of. Therefore, when we can’t work, speak, focus, or care the way we normally do, it’s not for lack of caring. It’s not procrastination or failure. It’s the body telling us something is wrong.
The authors note that healing starts when we bring mindful attention to our body. Somatic work tells you to pay attention to your posture, your breath, sensations, impulses, etc. When you track what’s happening in your body, you find space between the trigger and the reaction. That practice helps you return to yourself and show up more embodied. Showing up doesn’t mean numbing through your emotions or pain. To show up means you tune in to yourself and what YOU need. Again, it’s a unique experience so only you will know what that is. Become aware of what’s happening in your body. Learn to identify the sensation, rather than tuning into the other person or the current experience. It means reaching for an awareness that says:
“My shoulders are tense.”
“My heart is racing.”
“My hands are balled into a fist.”
“I want to leave this conversation, but I feel frozen.”
“My throat is tight. I feel like crying and can’t speak.”
The examples are endless. You get the point. Noticing these moments is presence. So today, if all you can do is show up in your own skin, imperfectly, and without a plan, please know that’s enough. It’s not a small act. That is the work, and it matters more than you think. The world doesn’t need your performance. It needs your presence. You’ll be amazed at what you notice and the impact you make on the people around you, if you lean into being present.
When you feel overwhelmed or unsure where to begin, try this exercise:
Pause. Let your eyes wander and land on something nearby. Let your gaze settle softly. Now start with noticing one sensation in your body. Don’t focus on your thoughts. Just notice the sensations. (Is your jaw tight? Are your shoulders tense? Do you feel anxious? Are your palms sweaty? Don’t worry about the why). Now close your eyes and take three deep breaths. Hold at the top and exhale longer than you inhale.
Notice what changed in your body. Shoulders relaxed. A smile. Tears. Whatever it is, give yourself a hug and let that be enough for now.
“…choosing to orient to a good feeling can result in an experience of safety and mastery. As [people] become able to do so the new objects of orientation often become more defined…reorienting toward a positive stimulus can surprise and reassure clients that they…have more possibilities and control than they had imagined.” - Ogden, Minton & Pain
Friend, let yourself explore those possibilities. You’re worth it. <3

