In this article, I speak both to therapists and helpers — AND to people who have been traumatised themselves. I invite you not to accept the label “it’s normal” as a final diagnosis for your suffering. Because trauma-related difficulties are understandable, but they should never be reduced to something you must simply live with. Through my own journey, I share how curiosity, inner safety and gentle self-investigation can help you find the approaches and support that are truly right for you — and how refusing resignation can become a powerful first step toward healing, and toward a happier, more fulfilling life that remains possible!
“It’s Understandable,” but not “It’s Normal”
Following up on my previous reflections on coping strategies (see article on Coping strategies) would like to invite therapists, caregivers, and all helpers to replace “it’s normal” with “it’s understandable” when someone who has experienced a traumatic event shares their struggles: insomnia, addictions, weight gain, emotional numbness, exhaustion, or intrusive thoughts.
No — it is not normal to be unable to sleep, to lose the ability to eat well, to drink excessively, or to feel disconnected from one’s body and joy.
These reactions are understandable, yes. But calling them “normal” can be dangerous.
It can minimize suffering and subtly suggest that nothing should or can be done.
How, as helpers, could we resign ourselves to leaving someone in pain, offering nothing more than “that’s normal”?
Understanding does not exclude action.
Explaining does not replace accompanying.
This attitude reminds me of my pregnancy: whatever physical discomfort I had — back pain, heartburn, various symptoms — everything was attributed to pregnancy, and I was told to simply wait until childbirth, as if everything would magically resolve.
But having a scientific explanation for suffering does not mean it should not be relieved.
Saying “it will pass” is not an option.
Leaving someone in suffering means risking a worsening of their condition, reinforcing isolation, and weakening the belief that solutions exist.
That is why I want to encourage you today:
do not resign yourselves.
Search. Explore. Try.
Our children are there to accompany us in this quest.
I have lost count of the synchronicities and encounters that appeared precisely when I needed support.
There were also less pleasant experiences — but they showed me which paths not to take, or what was not meant for me.
As long as we are embodied in this world, we have a responsibility to care for our body and our mind, and to leave no safe and meaningful path unexplored.
I bought a pendulum and crystals.
I took Bach flower remedies.
I tried hypnosis, meditation, and breathing practices.
I met with mediums.
I used a light therapy lamp.
I attended meditation events with Joe Dispenza.
I planted even more flowers than usual.
I wrote countless texts.
I read hundreds of books — literally.
I asked hundreds of questions to people sometimes on the other side of the world, simply because a podcast, a book, or a conversation sparked something in me that needed to be understood.
I learned again how to listen to music, to go to concerts, and to feel joy without it always being diminished by the memory of my son.
I learned again how to watch Christmas movies, even though I still see his teasing smile saying:
“But you’ve already seen that one…”
as he sat next to me on his computer, watching without really watching.
I also turned toward creativity, because creativity is an extraordinary resource after trauma:
painting, crafting, soul collage, writing, gardening.
One of my most significant experiences with therapists came when I shared that I was unable to express my emotions or cry.
It felt as if reality was in a room next door: I opened the door slightly, but didn’t dare go in, afraid of facing the truth and being overwhelmed by a tsunami of emotions and tears that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
I feared triggering something I could no longer contain.
I explained this clearly to several therapists, asking for help opening that door.
Some told me it wasn’t the right time — I wasn’t ready.
Others simply didn’t have the tools.
Yet deep down, we know what is right for us.
And I knew these locked-in emotions were blocking me.
During meditation, I couldn’t reach heart coherence because my breathing was shallow.
In one meditation — and later, after speaking with someone trained in HeartMath — I realized that every time I focused on my breath, my mind immediately returned to the moment my son stopped breathing.
My body was reliving it:
shortness of breath, difficulty inhaling deeply, constriction.
I brought this to several therapists and bodyworkers.
The two practices that helped me the most were holotropic breathwork and foot reflexology combined with EFT.
The emotional release was intense — many tears, deep letting go —
and afterward, my breathing sessions were never the same.
This doesn’t mean it will be the same for everyone.
But it taught me something essential:
we are detectives of our own well-being.
That is why I encourage you to become curious, courageous detectives of your own healing.
You are not alone.
You have an incredible support team:
- your children,
- guides or angelic figures,
- the Universe, Life, God — according to your beliefs.
The team exists.
And it helps us investigate what is blocking us and what can help us cross one threshold — and then the next.
And when we understand that the journey matters more than the destination, the journey becomes fascinating.
Many people believe the goal of this life is to avoid suffering and obstacles at all costs.
But that is an illusion.
It is impossible to go through life without grief, trials, and challenges.
When we accept this, we stop exhausting ourselves trying to avoid what is.
We stop taking endless detours and instead encounter extraordinary people, profound learning, life lessons, and powerful opportunities for growth.
Like the caterpillar: it cannot become a butterfly without the difficult — and not very glamorous — stage of the chrysalis.
If we help a butterfly out of its chrysalis, or help an egg hatch, we condemn it to death.
It needs the strength developed through that challenging process in order to survive.
The only thing that truly feels harmful and disempowering to me is inaction.
Resignation.
Immobility.
Each day, let us try to add one new thing:
- a gesture,
- an act of courage,
- a path worth exploring.
Relieving suffering does not erase trauma.
But it allows us to live with it — rather than beneath it.
