“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
— Anaïs Nin
This simple sentence captures one of the most important truths about being human.
Our experience of the world is shaped not only by what is happening around us, but by what is happening within us.
Recently, I came across an image comparing how humans, pigeons, butterflies and mantis shrimp perceive the world. It highlighted something fascinating: what we see is only a tiny fraction of what is actually there.
Humans have three colour receptors (cones) and can distinguish around one million colours. Pigeons have five cones and can see ultraviolet light. Butterflies perceive colours and patterns invisible to us. Mantis shrimp possess one of the most complex visual systems in the animal kingdom.
The image concluded with a powerful statement:
“Every other animal is looking at a different world.”
As I looked at it, I couldn’t help but think:
Humans are too.
Not because our eyes are different, but because our perception is.
This is what I call the POT of Perception – our Personal Opinion Translator.
It is the lens through which we interpret ourselves, other people and the world around us.
And no two POTs are exactly the same.
What Makes Up Our POT?
From the moment we are born, our POT begins to form.
It is shaped by:
• Our family experiences
• Our culture and community
• Our education
• Our relationships
• Our successes and failures
• Our beliefs and values
• Our hopes and fears
• Our memories
• Our nervous system
• Our life experiences
Every interaction we have contributes to how we interpret future experiences.
Over time, our POT becomes so familiar that we stop noticing it.
We assume everyone sees the world as we do.
We assume our interpretation is reality.
But perception and reality are not always the same thing.
The Nervous System Lens
What many people do not realise is that our nervous system is constantly filtering information long before our conscious mind has had a chance to make sense of it.
Every second, our brains receive far more information than we could ever consciously process.
So the brain filters.
It decides what is important.
What deserves our attention.
What can safely be ignored.
Our Reticular Activating System (RAS) acts like a search engine, scanning the environment and bringing certain information to our awareness.
If you are thinking about buying a red car, suddenly red cars appear everywhere.
They were always there.
Your awareness simply changed.
The same thing happens emotionally.
If we believe people are trustworthy, we tend to notice signs of trust.
If we believe people are dangerous, we tend to notice signs of danger.
Our nervous system influences what makes it through the filter.
The Polyvagal Lens
Dr Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory offers another way of understanding why our perception of the world can change so dramatically.
According to Polyvagal Theory, our nervous system is constantly asking one fundamental question:
“Am I safe?”
The answer to that question shapes how we experience ourselves, other people and the world around us.
What is fascinating is that the same situation can feel completely different depending on which nervous system state we are experiencing.
Through a Ventral Vagal Lens – Safety, Connection and Belonging
When we feel safe and connected, we experience the world through our social engagement system.
In this state we are more likely to experience:
• Joy
• Curiosity
• Compassion
• Creativity
• Confidence
• Connection
• Playfulness
A busy community event feels exciting.
A room full of strangers feels full of opportunity.
A challenge feels manageable.
We can access our natural resilience, connect with others and enjoy the present moment.
The world feels safer.
People feel safer.
We feel safer.
Through a Sympathetic Lens – Protection and Survival
When our nervous system detects danger, it shifts into mobilisation.
This is commonly experienced as:
• Anxiety
• Panic
• Hypervigilance
• Irritability
• Anger
• Restlessness
• Overthinking
Now the exact same community event may feel overwhelming.
The room full of strangers may feel threatening.
The challenge may feel impossible.
The nervous system begins scanning constantly for signs of danger.
We become highly aware of facial expressions, tone of voice, criticism, rejection and uncertainty.
The world can feel chaotic, stressful and unpredictable.
Through a Dorsal Vagal Lens – Shutdown and Conservation
When the nervous system determines that fighting or escaping is not possible, it may move into a state of shutdown and withdrawal.
This can be experienced as:
• Hopelessness
• Isolation
• Numbness
• Disconnection
• Exhaustion
• Withdrawal
• Depression
Once again, the situation itself has not changed.
But our perception of it has.
The community event may now feel pointless.
The room full of people may feel lonely.
The challenge may feel hopeless.
The future may appear bleak.
The world can feel empty and disconnected.
The Event Hasn’t Changed – The Lens Has
Imagine three people attending the same gathering.
One person arrives feeling regulated and connected. They leave inspired and energised.
Another arrives feeling anxious and hypervigilant. They leave exhausted and overwhelmed.
A third arrives in a state of shutdown and leaves feeling even more disconnected.
The event was the same.
The people were the same.
The environment was the same.
But each person’s nervous system created a very different experience.
And just as importantly, the same person can experience very different nervous system states from one day to the next. One day we may feel calm, connected, confident, and safe in the world around us; the next, we may feel low, disconnected, overwhelmed, or on edge. These shifts are not random. Learning to recognise what influences and triggers these changes is just as important as understanding the nervous system itself. Often, these reactions can be linked to past experiences that remain unresolved, with the body responding to present-day situations through the lens of earlier hurt, fear, or threat. When we begin to understand these patterns, we can respond with greater curiosity and self-compassion rather than self-judgement.
This is why understanding our nervous system matters.
What we perceive is not always an objective reflection of reality.
Often, it is a reflection of the state of our nervous system in that moment.
How Trauma Changes Perception
This is where trauma becomes particularly important.
One of the biggest misunderstandings about trauma is the belief that the impact appears during the traumatic event itself.
Often, it doesn’t.
During overwhelming experiences, our minds and bodies focus on survival.
Fight.
Flight.
Freeze.
Fawn.
Adapt.
Survive.
The responses that many people refer to as “symptoms” often emerge later, once the immediate danger has passed and the nervous system begins attempting to process what happened.
In many ways, these responses can be understood as evidence that the mind and body finally feel safe enough to begin dealing with what could not be processed at the time.
This is when people may begin experiencing:
• Hypervigilance
• Anxiety
• Panic attacks
• Sleep difficulties
• Emotional overwhelm
• Intrusive thoughts
• Heightened startle responses
The nervous system has learned something important:
The world can be dangerous.
Its job then becomes ensuring that the same thing never happens again.
To do this, it begins scanning continuously for signs of threat.
Hypervigilance is not weakness.
It is not attention-seeking.
It is not a character flaw.
It is not a ‘disorder’.
It is an intelligent survival response developed by a nervous system attempting to protect us.
The difficulty is that a nervous system trained by danger can begin detecting danger even when no immediate threat exists.
A raised voice can feel unsafe.
A delayed text message can feel like rejection.
A disagreement can feel overwhelming.
A crowded room can feel threatening.
The world may not have changed.
But the lens through which we are viewing it has.
What we notice changes.
What we focus on changes.
What we expect changes.
And ultimately, our experience of reality changes.
Trauma does not simply affect what happened to us.
It affects the lens through which we interpret what is happening now.
Language, Congruence and the Nervous System
One area that I believe deserves greater discussion within trauma-informed practice is language.
Language is not simply a collection of words.
It is often an expression of our internal experience.
The words we choose are frequently connected to our nervous system state, our emotions and our lived reality.
When I am experiencing joy, connection and safety, my language naturally reflects that experience.
When I am feeling calm, regulated and connected through my ventral vagal system, my words are likely to sound hopeful, curious, compassionate and engaged.
When I am frightened, overwhelmed or experiencing panic through a sympathetic state, my language may reflect fear, urgency, frustration or danger.
When I am experiencing a dorsal state of withdrawal, exhaustion or hopelessness, my language may become flatter, heavier or more disconnected.
This is not because I am choosing to be negative.
It is because my words are attempting to communicate something real about my internal experience.
This is where I sometimes find myself questioning approaches that focus heavily on correcting or managing the language people use.
Whilst I understand the intention may be to encourage hope, safety or empowerment, I believe there is a risk that we inadvertently move away from curiosity and towards control.
A person experiencing a dorsal state may describe feeling hopeless, empty, detached or defeated.
A person experiencing a sympathetic state may use language that reflects fear, anger, chaos or danger.
These words are not necessarily problems to be corrected.
They may simply be accurate descriptions of that person’s present experience.
From a person-centred perspective, I am sure it is not my role to decide whether someone else’s language is acceptable if it authentically reflects their internal world.
If somebody is experiencing terror, asking them to speak as though they are experiencing safety may create incongruence.
If somebody feels hopeless, asking them to describe themselves as hopeful may create distance from their truth.
If somebody has survived violence, asking them to soften or alter the language that best describes their experience may feel minimising rather than empowering.
When language is disconnected from lived experience, people often do not feel understood.
They feel managed.
For many people who have experienced trauma, being told which words are acceptable can feel remarkably similar to earlier experiences of having their reality questioned, dismissed or redefined by others.
The nervous system rarely interprets this as safety.
More often, it experiences it as judgment and control.
For me, being trauma-informed is not about teaching people which words they should use.
It is about becoming curious about why those words have emerged.
What is the nervous system trying to communicate?
What experience sits beneath those words?
What happened that makes this language feel true for this person?
Only when we understand the meaning beneath the language can genuine connection occur.
Congruence matters.
Authenticity matters.
Feeling heard matters.
Sometimes the most trauma-informed response is not to correct a person’s language at all.
It is to listen carefully enough to understand what their words are trying to tell us.
Perhaps this too is part of the POT of Perception.
When we insist that others use language that feels comfortable to us, we may be viewing their experience through our own lens rather than seeking to understand theirs.
Why Two People Experience the Same Event Differently
This is why two people can sit in the same meeting, hear the same conversation and leave with completely different experiences.
One feels encouraged.
Another feels criticised.
One feels welcomed.
Another feels excluded.
One sees opportunity.
Another sees danger.
Neither person is necessarily right or wrong.
They are simply viewing the experience through different POTs.
Different histories.
Different beliefs.
Different nervous systems.
Different expectations.
Different realities.
Awareness Brings Clarity
The goal is not to get rid of our POT.
That would be impossible.
The goal is to become aware of it.
Awareness creates choice.
When we understand our own filters, we become less reactive and more curious.
Instead of automatically believing every thought, feeling or interpretation, we can pause and ask:
• What am I noticing?
• Why am I noticing it?
• Is this happening now, or does it remind me of something from before?
• What nervous system state am I viewing this through?
• What else could be true?
This is where growth begins.
Not by denying our experiences.
Not by dismissing our feelings.
But by becoming aware of the lens through which we are viewing them.
A Different World
The image reminded me that a butterfly, a pigeon, a mantis shrimp and a human can all occupy the same space while experiencing completely different realities.
The same is true for people.
No two individuals share exactly the same experiences.
No two nervous systems develop in exactly the same way.
No two people perceive the world through the same lens.
Perhaps that is why curiosity, empathy and compassion matter so much.
Because the person standing in front of us may be seeing a completely different world than the one we see.
As Anaïs Nin observed:
“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
Perhaps that is the heart of the POT of Perception.
The goal is not to eliminate our lens, but to become aware of it.
Because awareness brings clarity.
And clarity creates the possibility for understanding, connection and change.
The world has not changed.
The lens has.
Awareness brings clarity.