08/07/2026
We all have varied responses to situations.
Something I find stressful might have very little effect on you. Something you find deeply unsettling might barely register for me.
It is a curiosity, that’s for sure. And probably unhelpful to decide that one response is right and the other is wrong.
The nervous system is not always responding to the event itself. Sometimes it is responding to the meaning of the event, the memory attached to it, the age we were when it happened, the support we did or did not have, and whether we had any sense of control.
Trauma can be thought of in different ways.
There is what people often call Big T trauma — life-altering or life-threatening events. Assault, accidents, sudden loss, violence, medical emergencies, natural disasters, or experiences where a person’s safety was genuinely at risk.
Then there is what is sometimes called little t trauma — experiences that may not look dramatic from the outside, but still disrupt emotional safety, self-worth or the ability to cope. Ongoing criticism. Humiliation. Rejection. Being dismissed. Being bullied. Living in an unpredictable environment. Feeling unseen, unheard, or never quite safe to be yourself.
One person’s “little t” may be deeply shaping. Another person may live through something objectively frightening and, with enough support, not carry it in the same way.
That is the thing about trauma. It is not only about what happened. It is also about what happened inside the person as a result.
Once upon a time, I thought of injury as only physical.
Perhaps that came from a mantra often repeated when trying to navigate being teased at school:
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”
I look back on that saying now and think it is optimistic — at best.
Words can hurt. So can silence. So can exclusion. So can fear. So can being told, directly or indirectly, that what you feel does not matter.
My understanding now is that injury can be physical, and it can be mental and emotional too.
In the first post in this series, we looked at childhood stress and how it may contribute to the brain and nervous system becoming efficiently attuned to detect threat.
A little like an overactive smoke alarm that wakes you at 2am for no good reason.
The alarm is doing its job. Technically.
But it may not be responding to actual danger. It may be responding to steam from the shower, low batteries, or overzealous use of hairspray.
A nervous system shaped by stress can become a little like that. Fast to alert. Slow to settle. Very committed to protection, even when protection is no longer needed in quite the same way.
And children have not cornered the market on this.
Stress and trauma can affect us at any age, and for many reasons. A relationship breakdown. A workplace environment. A medical event. An accident. A betrayal. A loss. A period of prolonged uncertainty. A time when life asked too much, for too long, without enough support.
Whether someone else thinks the reason is “sensible” is not really the point.
The body does not always ask for a committee meeting before it responds.
It learns from experience. It stores what seemed important. It prepares for next time.
And this is where the thread continues.
If trauma can teach the nervous system to stay alert, then it makes sense to ask what happens when that same alert system begins listening closely to the body.
Does it notice pain more quickly?
Does it interpret sensation as danger?
Does it turn the volume up on signals that may otherwise have stayed in the background?
That is where we will go next.
Because sometimes the question is not, “What is wrong with me?”
Sometimes the better question is, “What did my nervous system learn to do to keep me safe?”
And from there, we can begin to wonder whether those old protective patterns are still needed now.
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