Do I even exist?
The really super fun (read: exhausting) impacts of traumatic invalidation
This topic I’m about to broach feels so weighty. If I had to pinpoint and name just one thing as a common through line of pain and trauma comes from, and the way in which I’ve moved through the world, I could do it. And I want to do it, it just feels like there’s a lot to say. And where to even begin?
When I think about writing this newsletter, I feel my throat tightening, I have so much fear and anxiety in my solar plexus, my head starts to feel heavy and weighed down. I start to go blank, doubt myself and believe I have nothing interesting to say.
“I don’t want to come off like I’m just a whiny, complaining baby,” I think. “I don’t want to say something wrong, so maybe it’s better if I just give the facts and don’t actually share my story or myself.” Trauma responses much?
Gulp.
And that right there are the byproducts of a little something called traumatic invalidation. And why I know I should absolutely write this newsletter.
I really am not one for labels and such. I believe labels and diagnoses can be limiting a lot of the time. But I am nuanced enough to believe that being able to name something is sometimes half the healing, as long as we remember not to use it as a crutch or a limiter of who you are.
When I learned about the term, ‘traumatic invalidation’, it changed my life. Finally, clarity. Everything made sense. Everything clicked. The puzzle was finally coming together that I was trying to make sense of my entire life.
