The Body Remembers
Trauma has a way of embedding itself deep within us, not just in our minds but in our very cells. As Bessel van der Kolk so aptly explains in The Body Keeps the Score, the physical body carries the echoes of past experiences, even when the conscious mind cannot recall them. I understood this concept intellectually, but it wasn’t until a serious accident that I truly experienced it.
Life has a way of teaching us the lessons we need most. When we are disconnected, we often fail to notice them, unable or unwilling to pay attention. And so, those lessons persist, growing louder and presenting themselves in different forms until we are ready to listen and learn.
Unbeknownst to me then, this same lesson would pop up again a year or so later in a different way, when I was unexpectedly reunited with Katy-Kopy Kat, a much loved doll lost on the airplane crash. I share the experience in my new e-book, ‘When I’m Gone: Reclaiming Safety, Trust & Hope after Trauma. -A Shameless plug - I know right! It’s due for release 2nd Feb - available on Amazon.
I digress.
I’d had a great day having collected two new computers for our upcoming silver surfers project at A Positive Start when we were starting out at Liddesdale Road. It was all very exciting. I’d set the PCs up and then enjoyed a productive meeting with the lovely Mary Hemingway, a financial advisor and friend, joined by my husband Andrew who, as always had come along straight after work to offer his support.
As Andrew and I headed home that evening in our separate vehicles. I was ahead of my husband, as I waited in the middle of the road to turn my car into our driveway, a speeding van lost control and ploughed into me at over 60 miles per hour. The force of the impact crushed my car and sent me spinning down the road. During the chaos, my head smashed against the metal hook of the car seat, causing a serious head injury and knocking me unconscious.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, a lorry driver who had witnessed the accident sprang into action. Seeing the danger, he parked his truck across the road to shield me from oncoming traffic. Crawling into the tiny, crumpled space at the back of my car, he held my head, which was bleeding heavily. While the fire service closed the road and worked to cut me free, this young man stayed with me, holding my head steady and speaking to me softly for hours. I remember none of it, but my husband, Andrew, who witnessed the accident, and was in complete shock told me how this stranger had shown such care and courage in the moments that followed.
After being rushed by ambulance to the Borders General Hospital, and put back together by the amazing staff in A&E, I was eventually discharged. I was resting at home, physically bruised and emotionally fragile. I still had no memory of the accident or the young man who had stayed by my side, but the shock of what had happened lingered in my body.
One afternoon, as I sat in the living room, I noticed a flash of yellow hi-vis pass by the window. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, and I didn’t recognize the figure walking up the path. But when the man stepped inside and spoke, I was overwhelmed by a surge of emotion I couldn’t explain.
I had no conscious memory of him, but the moment he spoke, my body remembered. Tears welled in my eyes, and gratitude poured out of me as I realised this was the young truck driver, Cammy who had stayed with me during the accident. Somehow, his voice had etched itself into me, even though my mind had no recollection.
We talked, and I learned more about the kindness and calm he had offered me in the chaos. It was humbling and awe-inspiring to realize how deeply we can be impacted by someone’s care, even when we aren’t fully present to experience it in the moment.
The Power of Connection
This experience reminded me of the remarkable connection between the mind and body. The body doesn’t forget. It holds memories of pain, fear, and, as I learned, even comfort and safety. That truck driver’s voice, his presence, had been a lifeline for me, and though I couldn’t remember it consciously, my body had held on to the feeling of being cared for in a moment of crisis.
This isn’t just the body keeping the score—it’s the body keeping the moments that matter. It holds the fears and the gratitude, the wounds and the healing. And in moments like this, it reveals just how much of our story is stored within us, waiting to be uncovered when we’re ready.
Thank you for taking time today to read a a little bit about my experience, I hope you found it interesting. If you enjoyed reading this and would like to read more - you can pick up a copy of my ebook on Amazon, due for release on 2nd February, pre-order your copy here. 👇
https://www.amazon.co.uk/When-Im-Gone-Reclaiming-Safety-ebook/dp/B0DTMZ8JXB/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=32JRAEJM7W7AV&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.E4zP53hd8daUIf7xEfyNMw.SyxO-Jsg0mtzEwx5FKXwwHIQlhPIpjrZioDfZkGO8MQ&dib_tag=se&keywords=when+im+gone+-+reclaiming+safety%2C+trust+and+hope&qid=1737628647&sprefix=when+im+gone+-+reclaiming+safety+trust+and+hope%2Caps%2C78&sr=8-1
Understanding Behaviour: A Trauma-Informed Perspective
The Foundations
Humans are biologically hardwired to receive care and attention from their caregivers to ensure survival. Like other mammals, human infants rely on their caregivers to meet basic needs such as nourishment, comfort, and safety. For example, when a baby cries, a responsive caregiver provides food, comfort, or care. This reciprocity forms the foundation of attachment and emotional security.
When these needs are not consistently met—due to caregiver inexperience, absence (e.g., work or phone distractions), unresolved trauma, poverty, or emotionally unavailable environments—children can experience varying degrees of neglect or adverse childhood experiences (ACEs). These unmet needs disrupt the formation of secure attachment, leading instead to insecure attachment patterns.
Attachment Types
•Secure Attachment:
A caregiver consistently meets the child’s needs, fostering trust and emotional safety. These children grow up feeling confident, valued, and capable of forming healthy relationships.
•Insecure Attachment:
•Avoidant: Caregivers are emotionally unavailable or dismissive, leading to self-reliance and avoidance of closeness.
•Anxious: Caregivers are inconsistent, creating dependency and fear of abandonment.
•Disorganized: Often stemming from trauma or abuse, children experience fear and confusion in relationships.
In cases of insecure attachment, the vulnerable infant—entirely dependent on the caregiver for survival—cannot attribute neglect to the caregiver. Instead, they internalize the belief: “There must be something wrong with me.” This core belief becomes deeply ingrained due to Hebb’s Rule: neurons that fire together wire together (Donald Hebb). Repeated experiences of unmet needs solidify feelings of being unworthy, unlovable, or inadequate, with shame acting as the emotional core of these beliefs.
The Survival Mode Response
Insecure attachment activates survival mode, a state of heightened self-focus and vigilance. Survival mode, described as being “always and only selfish,” prioritises basic survival at the expense of emotional development. Traits that emerge include:
•Hyper-independence.
•Mistrust of others.
•Emotional detachment.
These traits are not consciously chosen but are protective mechanisms developed to cope with environments that lack safety and support.
The Formative Years
A child raised in survival mode potentially lacks the foundation for becoming a kind, empathetic, and emotionally attuned individual. Without guidance or consistent modeling of care and compassion, they remain focused on self-preservation.
Historical Context: Generational Impact
Generational norms and societal structures often compounded insecure attachment. For example:
•Strict Discipline: Schools and caregivers relied on punitive measures, prioritising obedience and compliance over emotional connection. Still true in some educational settings today.
•Generation X: My generation - Labelled as “latchkey kids,” many experienced neglect as parents prioritised work or adhered to beliefs such as “children should be seen and not heard.”
•Cultural Beliefs: Phrases like “stiff upper lip,” “boys don’t cry,” or “don’t wash your dirty linen in public” encouraged emotional suppression.
•Religious and Social Expectations: The emphasis on appearances and secrecy further discouraged emotional expression.
Children who grew up in these environments suppressed their emotions, leading to long-term consequences:
•Psychological struggles (e.g., anxiety, depression, anger issues).
•Maladaptive coping mechanisms (e.g., substance use, overeating, crime).
•Emotional dysregulation, leading to difficulty managing intense emotions.
•A cycle of poverty, trauma, and emotional disconnection.
These cultural and generational factors reinforce survival-oriented behaviours, often normalising or rewarding emotional suppression and self-reliance.
The Hyper-Independent Adult
The culmination of insecure attachment, unmet needs, and generational norms results in adults with fragile senses of self. These individuals often disconnect from their inner pain, focusing outwardly in search of validation or solutions.
Key Traits of Hyper-Independent Adults
•Disconnection from Self and Others: Due to core beliefs such as “I’m unlovable,” they struggle to show care or empathy for themselves, for others, or for both.
•Compensatory Behaviours: Some individuals, driven by an internal sense of inadequacy, focus all their energy on others—giving what they themselves need in the hope of receiving love or validation in return. While this behaviour may appear selfless, it often stems from a deep-seated need to feel valued. Over time, this can manifest as neediness or attention-seeking, leaving the individual feeling “too much” to handle. Paradoxically, this often leads to the very outcome they fear most: rejection and a pattern of failed relationships.
People-Pleasing as Emotional Masking
People-pleasing behaviours similarly function as a mask for unresolved emotions and unmet needs. By prioritising others’ needs above their own, people-pleasers attempt to gain approval and avoid conflict. However, these behaviours:
•Suppress their authentic feelings and desires.
•Reinforce their internal belief of being unworthy unless they “perform” or “earn” love.
•Lead to burnout, resentment, and further disconnection from their true selves.
Both hyper-independence and people-pleasing reflect survival strategies that mask core wounds of unworthiness and fear of rejection. Whether through detachment or over-involvement, these patterns prevent individuals from addressing the root causes of their pain and hinder the development of healthy, reciprocal relationships.
Emotional Dysregulation
A common thread among hyper-independent and people-pleasing adults is emotional dysregulation. Unresolved trauma leaves these individuals with heightened sensitivity to perceived rejection or criticism, leading to:
•Overreacting to minor conflicts.
•Oscillating between emotional withdrawal and excessive attention-seeking.
•Difficulty processing and managing intense emotions.
Societal Reinforcement of Behaviour’s
Society often normalises or rewards these survival strategies:
•Hyper-independence is celebrated in modern culture as strength, resilience, or success. This societal reinforcement masks the underlying trauma and prevents individuals from seeking help.
•People-pleasing is often mistaken for kindness, especially when gender roles or cultural expectations place a high value on caregiving and self-sacrifice.
These external validations perpetuate these behaviours, making them difficult to identify as coping mechanisms.
A Solution: The Path to Healing
Our society’s evolution toward emotional disconnection has exacerbated these challenges, but recovery is possible. A Positive Start’s Self-Discovery for Recovery Programprovides a trauma-informed pathway to healing.
The TRUST Framework
Our program is grounded in the principles of trauma-informed care:
•Trigger: Identifying emotional triggers and their origins.
•Reassurance: Providing safety and stability.
•Understanding: Building awareness of past experiences and their impacts.
•Safety: Creating a safe internal and external environment.
•Truth: Challenging core beliefs and embracing new narratives.
The RAPPORT Method
We teach participants to cultivate self-care and compassion using the following steps:
•R: Recognition – Acknowledge emotional pain and its origins.
•A: Acceptance – Accept experiences without judgment.
•P: Process – Work through suppressed emotions.
•P: Practice – Build consistent habits of care and compassion.
•O: Observe – Cultivate mindfulness and self-awareness.
•R: Reflection – Learn from experiences.
•T: Transformation – Rewire neural pathways through neuroplasticity.
By addressing the root causes of narcissistic traits—unresolved trauma, insecure attachment, and societal pressures—we empower individuals to reconnect with themselves and others. Through trauma-informed therapy and education, A Positive Start offers a pathway to heal core wounds, fostering care, compassion, and emotional resilience. Together, we can rewrite the narratives that shape our lives, creating healthier individuals and a more connected society.
Neuroplasticity
So, with practice and patience, you can rewire your brain to be kinder and value yourself more.
Labelling
Narcissism is an often wrongly and overused label. I think it’s important to make a distinction here given everyone of us is capable of narcissistic and people-pleasing; incongruent behaviours. We are also all capable of leaving ourselves out of the judging whilst judging and criticising others.
Distinguishing Narcissistic Behavioural Traits from Narcissistic Personality Disorder
While narcissistic behavioral traits stem from coping mechanisms developed in response to unmet needs, unresolved trauma, and insecure attachment, they do not necessarily indicate Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). Narcissistic traits, such as hyper-independence, emotional detachment, or an inflated sense of self, are often situational, rooted in survival strategies, and can diminish with self-awareness and healing.
In contrast, NPD, as defined by the DSM-5, ( for what it’s worth), is a diagnosable mental health condition characterised by pervasive patterns of grandiosity, a need for excessive admiration, and a lack of empathy. Individuals with NPD often have a deeply ingrained and rigid sense of entitlement and superiority, which can severely impair their relationships and functioning.
The impact on others varies depending on the severity of the traits or disorder. Narcissistic behavioral traits, while challenging, may lead to strained relationships due to miscommunication, emotional distancing, or overcompensating behaviours like people-pleasing or controlling tendencies. However, these traits often come with a capacity for change when the individual engages in self-reflection and healing. In contrast, NPD can have a more damaging impact, as the rigidity of the disorder often results in manipulative behaviours, emotional exploitation, and a lack of accountability, leaving others feeling invalidated, unimportant, or emotionally drained. Understanding these distinctions is essential for both addressing the root causes of narcissistic traits and navigating relationships with individuals who exhibit them.
The Importance of Genuine Connection:
A Lesson from Puppy Training
Training my German Shepherd puppy Neo has taught me a profound lesson about the importance of genuine connection and responsiveness. German Shepherds are naturally strong and intelligent, even as puppies, but without proper training and connection, their potential to become dangerous or unmanageable increases significantly.
I recruited the support of a puppy behaviour specialist, an amazing woman called Laura who understands dog’s, as I have come to understand about humans through my work as a therapist and life long student. It surprised me that despite my extensive knowledge on the subject of connection and attachment, I’d somehow managed to overlook the glaringly obvious when it came to my own puppy. I was guilty of justifying some undesirable behaviours as ‘he’s just a pup’ and quietly looking forward to when ‘he’s old enough to know better’ - oh, the irony! How will he learn to know better unless his caregiver (me), is teaching him! I hadn’t applied my teachings to my own situation - inadvertently leaving myself out of the judging.
This was a powerful realisation for me. With the best of intentions- our subconscious ‘default setting’ sneaks in unnoticed and unchecked. I was convinced I was paying attention to my puppy’s needs, and anyone watching from the outside would observe that too. Laura knew better by observing Neo’s behaviour - I came to realise during our first training session that actually, I was often in my head, distracted—thinking, analysing, and being hyper-vigilant while Neo was doing his thing —rather than fully present in the moment. Because of this, I’d been missing subtle cues of distress or connection-seeking behaviour from Neo.
When a puppy feels unsafe or disconnected, they enter survival mode, which often manifests as hyperactivity, disobedience, or defiance. However, these behaviours are not deliberate acts of defiance; they are signals of unmet needs. The puppy is seeking connection and reassurance to feel secure. Without this sense of safety, the puppy cannot focus, respond appropriately, or learn effectively. This creates a cycle: the lack of connection leads to a lack of safety, which makes the puppy harder to train, further perpetuating the disconnect.
This dynamic mirrors what happens in human relationships, particularly during early childhood - a subject I’m proficient in and passionate about.
Just as a disconnected puppy becomes unmanageable and hard to train, a child whose emotional signals are overlooked or misunderstood will often display “difficult” behaviours. These behaviour's—whether they look like tantrums, withdrawal, or hyperactivity—are survival-driven attempts to seek connection, safety, and regulation. When these needs remain unmet, the child adapts by developing survival strategies such as hyper-independence, people-pleasing, or emotional detachment, which can persist into adulthood and affect their relationships, sense of self, and behaviour.
Connection, Safety, and the Foundation of Secure Attachment
Reflecting on my experience with my Neo, several parallels emerge between training animals and fostering healthy human attachment:
Connection Builds Safety:
Genuine connection requires presence—observing cues, understanding needs, and responding appropriately. For both dogs and humans, this connection creates a sense of safety, allowing them to relax, trust, and learn.
Survival Mode Hinders Learning
When an individual feels unsafe—whether it’s a puppy or a child—they cannot focus, regulate emotions, or absorb new information. Instead, they remain in a reactive state, where survival needs take precedence over cooperation or growth.
The Responsibility of the Caregiver:
Just as a strong, intelligent dog like a German Shepherd requires consistent training to prevent becoming unmanageable or dangerous, a child’s emotional well-being depends on attentive caregiving to foster secure attachment. Without this, survival-driven behaviours can dominate, leading to relational challenges in adulthood.
Connecting It All Together
This experience has strengthened my understanding that many behaviours labeled as “difficult,” whether in animals or humans, are rooted in unmet needs rather than intentional defiance. A puppy in survival mode isn’t hyper and disobedient because they are “bad”—they are seeking connection to feel safe. Similarly, children whose needs are not met develop survival strategies that reflect their lack of connection and safety.
These insights reinforce my earlier points about the profound impact of insecure attachment and unmet needs:
Unmet Needs Create Core Beliefs:
Like the puppy interpreting a lack of connection as a threat, children internalise neglect or misattunement as “There must be something wrong with me,” shaping their self-image and behaviours.
Survival Mode Fuels Behavioural Traits:
The hyperactivity, withdrawal, or neediness seen in survival-driven individuals mirrors behaviours in animals that feel unsafe. Dr. Peter Levines trauma work centres around animals. These patterns are not flaws but adaptations to their environment.
Connection as the Path to Change:
Whether with a puppy or a child, building trust and connection is the key to breaking survival-driven cycles. Only when safety is established can learning, growth, and healing take place.
This real-life example with Neo has been instrumental in deepening my understanding of attachment, survival mode, and the profound importance of genuine connection—not just for animals, but for humans too.
If proof of the importance of connection were needed, it can be observed in Neo’s behaviour. In less than a week our relationship has become stronger. I’m no longer getting my frustrations with Neo not doing as I’d like, because I understand what he needs from me - the joy I feel as a result of this wonderful friendship is difficult to articulate - I love him 🙏
The Power of Alignment, Congruence and Introspection
The Power of Alignment - Learning to Trust Ourselves Through Self-Awareness, Congruence, and Introspection
In a world that constantly pulls us in multiple directions, the concept of alignment has become more essential than ever. At its core, alignment is about living in accordance with our deepest values, needs, and truths. It’s the quiet but powerful sensation that tells us, “This feels right,” as opposed to the nagging, unsettled feeling that signals something is off.
But how do we know when we’re in alignment? And just as importantly, how do we recognise when we’re not? The answer lies in developing self-awareness, honouring congruence, and learning to listen to the messages our nervous system sends us.
What Does It Mean to Be in Alignment?
Being in alignment means that our actions, decisions, and relationships are congruent with our core values and inner truth. But what does congruence really mean?
Congruence is the state of internal consistency — when our thoughts, feelings, and actions are all in harmony. It’s when what we believe, what we feel, and how we behave are all pointing in the same direction. When we are congruent, there is no internal conflict. Our inner selves are in agreement, and that agreement is reflected in our choices and actions.
When congruence is absent, misalignment takes over. This happens when, for example, we say “yes” to something while every fiber of our being wants to say “no.” It’s when we try to convince ourselves that something “makes sense” logically, even though it feels wrong in our gut. Over time, this dissonance can drain our energy, leading to burnout, stress, and self-doubt.
The Role of Self-Awareness and Introspection
To recognise alignment (or misalignment), we need to develop self-awareness — an ongoing process of paying attention to our inner world. This includes noticing patterns in our thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations.
Self-awareness helps us distinguish between two key internal states:
The internal feeling of twisted juxtaposition - This might feel like a sense of confusion, discomfort, or unease. It’s your body and mind’s way of telling you, “Something here isn’t right.” This is often a signal of incongruence — when your internal values and external actions are out of sync.
The internal feeling of relief and confidence - This is the sensation of “coming home” to yourself. You might feel a sense of peace, lightness, or deep inner knowing. This is a sign of congruence — when you’re living in alignment with your authentic self.
These sensations are often subtle. We’ve been taught to prioritise logic, societal expectations, or external validation over our inner knowing. But the more we tune into these feelings, the more we strengthen our ability to make choices from a place of alignment and congruence.
Why Congruence Matters
Congruence isn’t just a “nice to have” — it’s essential for mental, emotional, and even physical well-being. When we live in a state of congruence, we experience a deep sense of inner peace. Our nervous system feels safe, calm, and settled. There is no internal conflict, no constant need to justify, explain, or second-guess ourselves.
Here’s why congruence is so important:
1.Mental Clarity - When our internal beliefs, feelings, and actions are aligned, we experience mental clarity. Decisions become easier because we’re not in a battle with ourselves.
2.Emotional Well-Being - Congruence reduces anxiety, stress, and inner turmoil. Instead of feeling pulled in different directions, we feel grounded and secure.
3.Authenticity and Self-Trust - When we act in congruence with our values, we reinforce trust in ourselves. We no longer rely on external validation to feel “right.”
4.Better Relationships - Congruence in our relationships means we show up as our authentic selves. We communicate honestly, set clear boundaries, and avoid people-pleasing.
When we compromise our congruence — for example, saying “yes” to something that violates our values — our nervous system reacts. This might show up as tension, restlessness, or a lingering sense of unease. Our bodies know the truth before our minds do.
How to Recognise When You’re Out of Alignment (and Incongruent)
Misalignment and incongruence show up differently for everyone, but some common signs include:
Physical sensations - Tightness in the chest, heaviness in the gut, or a racing heart.
Mental signs - Overthinking, second-guessing, or rationalising a decision to make it “make sense.”
Emotional cues - Feelings of dread, anxiety, frustration, or inexplicable sadness.
These signs might arise when we’re in a job, relationship, or situation that doesn’t honor our values or needs. If we consistently feel resistance, it’s a sign to pause, reflect, and ask, “What isn’t aligning here? What part of me am I betraying right now?”
How to Recognise When You’re in Alignment (and Congruent)
When you’re in alignment, you’ll often feel congruence in the form of a physical release. You might experience:
Lightness in the body - A deep exhale, a sense of openness, or physical ease.
Mental clarity - Clear thoughts, a sense of certainty, and the absence of mental “noise.”
Emotional well-being -A feeling of peace, joy, or quiet confidence.
Not every aligned decision feels “easy” in the moment. Sometimes, alignment requires courage. It might mean ending a relationship, changing careers, or saying “no” when it would be easier to say “yes.” But even in those moments, there is a distinct inner knowing that we’re doing the right thing. That feeling is congruence in action.
How to Cultivate Alignment and Congruence in Daily Life
1.Practice body awareness. Notice physical sensations during decision-making. Is there tightness or lightness? Pay attention to what your body is trying to tell you.
2.Get clear on your values. Ask yourself, What do I stand for? What matters most to me? Decisions are easier when you know what you’re unwilling to compromise on.
3.Notice your self-talk. If you find yourself constantly rationalising or convincing yourself to stay in a situation, it’s worth exploring whether it’s truly aligned.
4.Carve out time for introspection. Regular reflection through journaling, meditation, or quiet walks helps you reconnect with your inner truth.
5.Trust the “yes” and honour the “no”, When something feels right, trust it — even if you don’t have all the answers. When something feels wrong, give yourself permission to walk away.
6.Live authentically. Congruence requires authenticity. When you abandon your truth to please others or meet societal expectations, you betray yourself. Ask, Am I doing this for me, or for someone else’s approval?
The Link Between Alignment, Congruence, and Nervous System Regulation
When we live in alignment and congruence, our nervous system reflects that state. It moves from “fight-or-flight” (stress, anxiety) to “rest-and-digest” (calm, peace). Alignment brings a sense of safety. Our bodies feel at ease because they aren’t fighting an internal battle.
When we live in misalignment and incongruence, we may experience chronic stress. Our nervous system stays on high alert because, at a fundamental level, we know something is off. Over time, this can lead to exhaustion, burnout, and emotional instability.
Final Thoughts
Alignment and congruence are more than abstract ideals — they are essential to living a life of authenticity, peace, and well-being. Congruence means that every part of you — your mind, heart, and actions — are in harmony. Alignment means living in a way that reflects that inner congruence in the world around you.
But this process is ongoing. Alignment isn’t a one-time destination — it’s a path we walk every day. It requires ongoing self-awareness and introspection to ensure that our external lives reflect our internal truth.
If something feels off, listen. If something feels right, trust it. Your body, your mind, and your heart are all trying to guide you toward congruence and alignment. Are you ready to listen?
The Chaos of Silence: Surviving Work Environments with No Direction
Navigating The Maze
Imagine starting a new job full of hope, ready to contribute and grow, only to find yourself lost in a maze with no map, no guide, and no clear destination. No one explains the rules, yet you’re expected to know them. No one tells you how things are done, but you’re still held accountable when mistakes happen. It’s a reality many employees face in toxic, disorganised work environments.
These environments aren’t just frustrating — they’re harmful. They breed insecurity, self-doubt, and stress, leaving employees feeling incompetent and defeated. Worse still, the blame culture that often accompanies this confusion can have long-term effects on mental well-being and professional confidence.
If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. Let’s unpack what it feels like to work in these environments, the damage they cause, and how both employees and leaders can do better.
1. The Invisible Rulebook - Expected to Know the Unknown
In a healthy workplace, employees are provided with clear instructions, resources, and access to knowledge. But in dysfunctional environments, new hires are dropped in without orientation or guidance. Policies exist — but no one shows you where. Processes exist — but no one explains them. Expectations exist — but no one communicates them.
Instead, you’re left to “figure it out.” If you succeed, it’s seen as “just doing your job.” But if you fail, you’re met with criticism like:
•“You should have known.”
•“Why didn’t you ask?”
•“This is basic stuff.”
This gaslighting approach frames you as the problem, not the absence of support or communication. Employees internalise this criticism, believing they should have known, even though they were set up to fail from the start.
2. Fumbling in the Dark - The Emotional Toll of Unclear Expectations
When you’re constantly guessing, stress levels rise. Uncertainty triggers feelings of self-doubt, especially if mistakes are met with blame instead of support. Over time, this environment can erode self-confidence. You start questioning your intelligence, competency, and worth.
Common emotional responses include:
•Anxiety: Worrying about potential mistakes because you don’t know the rules.
•Imposter Syndrome: Believing you’re “not good enough” because you can’t meet unspoken expectations.
•Frustration: Feeling resentful toward leaders and colleagues for failing to provide clarity.
•Burnout: Exhaustion from the mental strain of navigating constant ambiguity.
In severe cases, this can push people to quit or suffer in silence, believing the problem lies with them instead of the workplace.
3. The Blame Game - When Accountability Becomes a Weapon
In functional teams, accountability is shared. Mistakes are seen as learning opportunities, and solutions are sought collaboratively. But in environments with no direction, accountability turns into a weapon. Leaders deflect responsibility onto employees, ignoring the fact that confusion was caused by their lack of clarity.
This is especially common in workplaces where:
•Leaders avoid feedback - Instead of acknowledging gaps in training, they claim, “This is how it’s always been done.”
•Mistakes are met with punishment - Employees are reprimanded instead of supported.
•Knowledge is gate-kept - Information is treated as “secret knowledge” that only certain people are entitled to access.
The result? Employees become hyper-vigilant, afraid to act without explicit instructions, but those instructions never come. This kills creativity, proactivity, and morale.
4. Why Do Companies Operate This Way?
No company intends to create chaos, but the following factors often play a role:
•Lack of Leadership Training - Leaders don’t know how to delegate, onboard, or communicate effectively.
•Toxic Power Dynamics - Some leaders maintain control by keeping employees in the dark.
•“Sink or Swim” Mentality - Some believe struggle builds character, but in reality, it builds resentment.
•Rapid Growth - Small companies growing quickly often fail to formalise processes, leaving employees to guess.
These issues aren’t insurmountable, but they require self-awareness and a willingness to change.
5. How Employees Can Cope
If you’re stuck in an environment like this, here are some survival strategies:
•Document Everything
Create your own “rulebook” as you figure things out. Write down procedures, who to contact, and key lessons learned. This will become your personal resource — and a tool to protect yourself if blame arises.
•Ask for Clarity in Writing
If instructions are vague, request clarification in email or chat so you have a record. Ask direct questions like, “Can you confirm the specific steps you’d like me to follow?”
•Manage Up
If your manager is disorganised, anticipate their needs. Send them progress updates and seek confirmation on priorities.
•Set Boundaries
If the environment is damaging your well-being, set limits on after-hours work and prioritise self-care.
•Know When to Leave
If the blame culture is extreme and you’re constantly feeling “less than,” it may be time to seek a healthier environment.
6. How Leaders Can Do Better
If you’re a manager or leader, take this as a wake-up call. Employees want to do well, but they can’t meet unspoken expectations. Here’s how to break the cycle:
•Create a Clear Onboarding Process
New employees should have access to a step-by-step introduction to tools, processes, and people.
•Document Processes
Make sure internal processes are accessible, up-to-date, and easy to find. Use shared drives, wikis, or internal knowledge bases.
•Foster Psychological Safety
Encourage employees to ask questions without fear of blame. Model this behavior by admitting when you don’t know something.
•Be Proactive, Not Reactive
Check in regularly with employees and ask, “Do you have everything you need to succeed?” Don’t wait until a mistake happens to address gaps.
•Stop Gatekeeping Knowledge
Make information widely accessible. When employees can access what they need, they stop relying on “tribal knowledge” that only certain people hold.
7. Final Thoughts: You Deserve Clarity
No one should have to “fumble in the dark” at work. Clarity, communication, and direction aren’t luxuries — they’re basic rights in a functional workplace.
If you’re an employee in this situation, it’s not your fault. You are not “stupid” or “less than.” You were set up to fail. Remember, successful people in healthy workplaces aren’t inherently smarter — they simply have access to the right information at the right time.
If you’re a leader, be the person who breaks the cycle. Give your team the clarity you wish youhad when you started. Clear expectations, accessible knowledge, and transparent processes don’t make employees “soft” — they make them strong, self-sufficient, and engaged.
Nobody thrives in the dark. Turn on the light.
Finally, if this post resonates with you and your situation, here’s an affirmation you can use to help to keep you safe..
“I am not responsible for fixing a broken system. I have done my part by asking for clarity, advocating for support, and seeking solutions. My worth is not measured by how well I manage dysfunction. I deserve to work in an environment where I am seen, heard, and respected.”
The Inconsistencies in What We Teach
The Inconsistencies in What We Teach - How Adult Behaviour Contradicts the Values We Impart to Children
We tell children to “treat others as you want to be treated.” We emphasise the importance of respect, empathy, and kindness. Yet, when it comes to how adults treat children, our actions often tell a very different story. The lessons we claim to teach are undermined by our own contradictions, leaving children confused, disempowered, and sometimes traumatised.
Respect - The Lesson We Preach but Fail to Practice
“To get respect, you must give respect” — a mantra many of us teach children. But what happens in practice? Adults shout at children, interrupt them, issue demands, and control their every move. When a child tells the truth, they may be accused of lying without evidence. Children learn quickly that respect is not a two-way street; it’s something demanded of them but rarely reciprocated.
Instead of modelling respect, adults often model dominance. We assert our authority through volume, coercion, and control, all while expecting children to remain calm, respectful, and obedient. Imagine the confusion this creates for a child. If respect is earned through actions, then what have adults done to earn theirs?
Bodily Autonomy - The Right We Champion but Rarely Grant
We teach children that their bodies belong to them. We tell them they have a right to personal space, that no one is allowed to touch them without consent. But what happens when a child asks for space and is told, “No, you’re staying right here until you calm down”? What happens when adults dictate what children eat, wear, or how they express themselves?
Children are often stripped of autonomy in the name of “what’s best for them.” They’re told to sit still when their bodies need to move, to eat food they dislike, and to wear clothes that feel uncomfortable. Their voices are silenced, their choices overridden, and their ability to assert control over their own lives is diminished. Then, we wonder why they struggle with self-regulation as they grow.
If we want children to believe in bodily autonomy, we have to embody that principle ourselves. This means listening to their boundaries, giving them choices where possible, and allowing them to assert control over their small world in developmentally appropriate ways.
Listening - A One-Way Street?
We ask children to “listen when I’m talking to you,” but how often do adults listen in return? Children have thoughts, ideas, and feelings that are just as valid as adults’. Yet, they are frequently dismissed with phrases like, “Because I said so,” or “You’re too young to understand.”
This double standard sends a clear message: Adults matter, children don’t. When children learn that no one is really listening to them, they stop sharing. They bottle up their thoughts, disengage from conversation, and may even start lashing out to be heard. This is the beginning of disconnection.
If we want children to listen, we must model what good listening looks like. It means pausing to hear them out, asking clarifying questions, and acknowledging their feelings, even if we can’t always meet their requests.
Bullying - The Cycle We Perpetuate
When children bully each other, adults step in swiftly with punishments, lectures, and consequences. But when adults bully children — through yelling, public shaming, controlling, or intimidating — it’s often justified as “discipline” or “teaching them a lesson.”
Bullying is defined as the use of power to intimidate or control another. By this definition, much of what passes for “adult authority” in schools, homes, and institutions is indistinguishable from bullying. Adults who feel the need to control, dominate, or punish children are often reacting to their own unresolved feelings of frustration, inadequacy, or fear. Instead of reflecting on their emotional state, they project that discomfort onto the child.
This cycle becomes dangerous when children begin to see bullying as a legitimate way to exert power. They learn that, just like adults, they can shout, control, and dominate those with less power — and it works. We wonder why bullying persists, but perhaps it’s because we’ve modelled it too well.
The Old Ways - Outdated Beliefs That Still Linger
For generations, children were seen as subordinate to adults in every way. The old adage “children should be seen and not heard” shaped how children were viewed in the home, school, and society. Children were expected to honour their parents, obey without question, and accept that their opinions carried no weight. Baby care advice once encouraged parents to let infants “cry it out” rather than comfort them, and discipline often took the form of physical punishment under the justification of “spare the rod, spoil the child.”
Today, we know that these approaches cause harm. Studies have shown that ignoring a baby’s cries disrupts attachment and emotional development, and physical punishment is linked to increased aggression, anxiety, and mental health struggles later in life. Yet, remnants of this thinking still permeate modern parenting and education. The belief that children must “do as they’re told” without question is still common, as is the notion that strict control is necessary for discipline.
Is society still stuck in this mindset? In many ways, yes. While there is greater awareness of child development, trauma, and the importance of empathy, the echoes of these outdated beliefs are still present in parenting books, school policies, and everyday interactions between adults and children. Unlearning this thinking requires a shift in how we view children — not as subordinates to control, but as human beings deserving of the same dignity, compassion, and respect we expect for ourselves.
Fear and Stress - Why Stressed Brains Don’t Learn
Many of us can vividly recall a teacher we were afraid of — one who humiliated students, shouted, or punished harshly. I know first hand how being publicly humiliated by a teacher can have lasting consequences. For most people, these experiences were not just unpleasant; they were learning dead zones. Fear shuts down the brain’s ability to process new information. When we are in a state of stress or fear, our “fight, flight, or freeze” response is activated, and the parts of the brain responsible for reasoning, problem-solving, and memory shut down.
Instead of engaging with the lesson, children in fear become focused on survival. Their nervous systems are on high alert, scanning for the next threat. It’s no wonder so many people “hated school” or “didn’t learn anything” in certain classes. The presence of fear — from harsh punishments, humiliating remarks, or unpredictable adult behaviour — creates a toxic environment for learning.
Learning should be a pleasurable, curiosity-driven experience. Children learn best when they feel safe, supported, and connected. But when adults rely on control, fear, and shame to “teach lessons,” they create barriers to learning that can last a lifetime. Children who experience fear-based education may carry those feelings into adulthood, believing that learning is something to be endured, not enjoyed.
If we want children to thrive academically and emotionally, we must move away from fear-based control and towards environments where children feel safe to explore, ask questions, and make mistakes without judgment.
The Trauma Trap - When History Shapes the Present
When a child has been bullied, abused, or neglected in the past, their nervous system stays on high alert. Their reactions aren’t just about “this moment” — they’re about every past moment where they felt unsafe, unheard, or out of control. This is how trauma works: it rewires the brain to anticipate threats everywhere.
But rather than recognising this, adults often misinterpret these reactions as “bad behaviour” or “defiance.” A child who lashes out is seen as a problem to be fixed, not as a person in pain. Adults respond with more rules, more control, more consequences — intensifying the child’s sense of powerlessness. This dynamic triggers more stress for both sides. Adults feel burned out, children feel overwhelmed, and the environment becomes toxic.
This is where trauma-informed care is essential. Trauma-informed practice recognises that behaviour is communication. A dysregulated child isn’t “choosing” to misbehave; they’re responding to a nervous system that feels unsafe. Instead of reacting with punishment, adults need to create safety, offer co-regulation, and provide predictable environments where children feel seen, heard, and valued.
The Way Forward - A Call for Consistency and Compassion
If we want children to learn respect, autonomy, empathy, and self-regulation, then adults must live those values first. Children do not learn from lectures; they learn from experience. If they experience disrespect, their lesson is clear. If they experience control, they learn to control others. If they experience blame, they internalise it or pass it on.
A trauma-informed approach can break this cycle. Here’s what that could look like:
Respect is mutual - Model the respect you want to see. Apologize when you’re wrong. Speak calmly.
Bodily autonomy is honoured - Offer choices where possible. Respect personal space. Listen to children’s “no” when it’s safe to do so.
Listening is reciprocal - Take a breath. Let them finish. Respond with curiosity, not dismissal.
Bullying is addressed at all levels - Reflect on adult behaviour as much as children’s. Challenge systems of dominance, not just playground scuffles.
Trauma is acknowledged, not punished: See beyond the “behaviour” to the root cause. Focus on connection before correction.
If we are serious about raising emotionally intelligent, self-aware, and compassionate young people, then we need to confront the inconsistencies in our own behaviour. Children are watching. They are learning how to be human from us. We have to ask ourselves: What are we teaching them? and just as importantly- Why? What’s happening inside of us that leads us to believe we have the right to control others?
For more information, Ask us about our ‘Supporting Regulation In Schools’ Framework developed with Lived Experience insight, by visiting the contact page on our website.
The Most Important Question Never Asked: “Why?”
In schools across the country, a familiar pattern plays out daily. A student misbehaves — perhaps they lie, swear, have an “outburst,” or exhibit “bad behaviour.” The response? Punishment. Detention. Reprimands. These actions are justified as necessary for discipline and maintaining order. Meanwhile, safeguarding procedures are strengthened. Staff are required to report more, document every detail, and even log the reasons for not reporting something.
Yet, in all this activity, we miss the most important question of all: Why?
Why did the student lie?
Why did the student have an outburst?
Why are they behaving this way?
People don’t lie for no reason. People don’t erupt into emotional outbursts in isolation. Behaviour, especially behaviour labelled as “challenging,” is communication. Behind every incident is a story, an experience, or a trigger. The fight-or-flight response — our most primal survival mechanism — is often at the heart of these so-called “meltdowns.”
What often appears as ‘attention seeking’. behaviour’ is actually connected seeking - in other words: “help me! I’m in free fall… I am frightened, I don’t know what’s happening to me, I feel unanchored, I don’t feel safe”
But instead of asking what prompted the reaction, the focus too often shifts to control, punishment, and compliance.
Here’s the problem: When a child already feels unsafe, punishment only confirms their fears.
Survival Out of Context
When students behave in ways that seem “extreme” or “disproportionate,” it’s worth considering whether what we’re seeing is survival in action. Imagine a child who lives in an environment where they have to be on high alert — perhaps they experience neglect, conflict, or instability at home. Their nervous system becomes trained to recognize threat everywhere. So, when a teacher raises their voice or a peer says something hurtful, it can trigger that child’s fight-flight-freeze response. What looks like “defiance” or “disruption” is often self-protection.
What happens next? Often, the child is punished. They’re sent out of the room, kept in detention, or subjected to further isolation. But here’s the paradox: when a child feels unsafe, isolating or punishing them makes them feel even less safe. Instead of resolving the behaviour, it reinforces it.
Ask Before You Act
If we know this, why do we continue to prioritise punishment over curiosity? The simple answer is often time. Teachers are stretched. Workload pressures mean that “dealing with the issue” takes precedence over “understanding the issue.” But what if we reframed our approach?
Instead of asking, “How do I stop this behaviour?”
Ask, “Why is this behaviour happening in the first place?”
This shift in perspective does not mean excusing poor behaviour. It means seeking to understand it. What triggered it? What might the child be experiencing beneath the surface?
Staff don’t need to solve these questions alone. Schools have access to services and support teams trained to recognise trauma responses and understand emotional regulation. Educational psychologists, safeguarding leads, counselling teams and pastoral staff are there to help bridge this gap. But if the first instinct is to punish, these resources are never called into action.
The Paradox of Caring Roles
Here’s an uncomfortable truth: Those who care for others often pretend they themselves have no need of care.
Teachers, social workers, clinical psychologists, safeguarding leads, and others in caring professions are constantly focused on the vulnerability of others — the students, the service users, the clients. But rarely do they acknowledge their own vulnerability. By some unspoken logic, it’s as if the very role of “the carer” grants them immunity from stress, struggle, or personal difficulty.
But is that really true? Of course not. Teachers experience emotional overwhelm. Social workers face moral injury and burnout. Safeguarding leads are exposed to the weight of distressing stories daily. They, too, are human. They, too, are vulnerable.
Yet, in many settings, this truth is quietly ignored. Why? Perhaps it’s fear. To acknowledge one’s own vulnerability requires humility, and that can feel like a threat to authority or professionalism. It’s often said that “those who teach cannot be taught,”and there is some truth in that observation. Many in positions of authority believe they know best. After all, they are the “expert” in the room. But this mindset has its dangers. When educators and carers refuse to reflect on their own vulnerability, they risk becoming rigid, defensive, and closed off to learning.
If you believe you have nothing left to learn, how can you ask “why” with an open mind? If you believe you are invulnerable, how can you recognize the vulnerability of others?
The irony is clear: Those tasked with safeguarding the most vulnerable people in society sometimes fail to safeguard themselves. They resist admitting their struggles, and in doing so, they project strength while quietly carrying stress, frustration, and burnout. The risk is that, in this state of denial, they become less able to respond with compassion, patience, and empathy.
The result? More control, more punishment, and less curiosity.
The Power of “Why”
Imagine a student who regularly disrupts the classroom. On the surface, it’s easier to label them as “difficult” than to recognise the complexity of their experience. But the teacher who asks “why?” might discover that this child is experiencing hunger, grief, bullying, or fear. Their “bad behaviour” is a reflection of their unmet needs. Once those needs are addressed, the behaviour often improves naturally.
Now, imagine a teacher who feels overwhelmed by the constant demands of the job. On the surface, it might look like that teacher is being short-tempered or “inflexible.” But if we asked “why?”, we might discover they are carrying the weight of unspoken pressures — deadlines, inspections, emotional fatigue, or personal challenges at home. Their “bad behaviour” is also a reflection of unmet needs.
If staff fail to ask “why” — of students, of colleagues, or of themselves — they send a message: “Your feelings don’t matter. Your context doesn’t matter. Only your compliance matters.” For a child already feeling unsafe, this lesson is deeply harmful. For a teacher already feeling overwhelmed, it is equally so.
A Call to Action
If there is one thing to take away from this message, it is this: Always ask why.
When a student lies — ask why.
When a student lashes out — ask why.
When a student “refuses to follow instructions” — ask why.
But also…
When a colleague is unkind — ask why.
When a staff member seems withdrawn — ask why.
When you, yourself, feel on edge or overwhelmed — ask why.
Asking “why” is not a sign of leniency; it’s a sign of strength, compassion, and professionalism. It’s safeguarding at its most effective. If staff don’t have time to ask, the cycle will continue: punish first, ask later. But later is often too late.
If you want safer schools, stronger relationships, and more meaningful safeguarding, you must always ask why — not just of others, but also of yourself.
When Systems Fail Us…
When Systems Fail Us: The Cost of Exclusion in the Helping Professions
When you’ve experienced trauma in your life — and by trauma, I simply mean a dysregulated nervous system — it’s all too easy to internalise the belief that “I’m not good enough.”
These words don’t come from nowhere; they are often reinforced by the very systems that claim to support us.
Systems that call themselves “person-centred” and “inclusive” but operate within rigid walls of process and policy.
The problem is, humans don’t fit neatly within those walls. We are complex, adaptive, and shaped by our lived experiences. Trauma doesn’t follow a linear process, and neither does healing. Yet many of the structures we encounter — from education to employment to accreditation in the helping professions — are designed to measure people against narrow, one-size-fits-all criteria. If you don’t fit the mould, the message is clear: You don’t belong.
But what if the very qualities that make us “different” are the ones that make us most effective at supporting others?
What if lived experience, emotional intelligence, and the capacity to understand dysregulation from the inside are just as valuable — if not more so — than formal qualifications?
And what happens to the people we aim to support when systems exclude those with the deepest understanding of what it means to feel lost, overwhelmed, and unsafe?
This is the conversation we need to have. It’s not just about qualifications or accreditation — it’s about recognising the humanity in all of us, especially those who have learned to navigate and regulate their own nervous systems. It’s about challenging the idea that inclusion can be achieved through exclusion.
If we truly want to create person-centred, inclusive systems, we have to go beyond process and policy. We have to recognise that lived experience is not a limitation — it’s an asset. We have to stop asking people to fit into systems and start designing systems that fit people.
This is not just theory — it’s lived experience. My lived experience. And it’s why I believe that real inclusion must be built on understanding, not control; on compassion, not compliance.
As a person-centred counsellor with lived experience, I know firsthand the profound impact of trauma. I haven’t just studied it — I’ve lived it.
My journey has taken me through war-torn landscapes, displacement, poverty, domestic abuse, ill-health, loss and the relentless search for safety. As a youngster, I witnessed the pain of depression, grief and post-traumatic stress, survivors in their own right, but adults who were emotionally unavailable due to their own unresolved wounds. Victims of Victims.
As a child, our family spent time separated; grateful for the hospitality of relatives when having our own home was not an option. As a young woman, I faced partner violence that left me unconscious — a stark reminder of the cost of dysregulated rage in others.
For years, I lived in a state of flight — 53 addresses, constantly running, searching for safety. Each move wasn’t just a change of scenery — it was a complete restart. New jobs, new schools, new doctors, new dentists. Each shift required me to re-establish everything from the basics of daily life to essential healthcare and education. For anyone who’s experienced displacement, you’ll know it isn’t just about finding a new place to stay — it’s about a search for belonging and trying to create a sense of “home” in an unfamiliar world. The constant upheaval left little room for stability, forcing me to live in survival mode, always on high alert. The cost of these constant new beginnings cannot be understated. It’s exhausting, disorienting, and impacts your mental, emotional, and physical well-being. At the time, I didn’t realise that I wasn’t just running from circumstances — I was trying to escape from the internal chaos I carried within myself.
When I eventually recognised the patterns of behaviours and discovered that the true “escape” wasn’t from a place outside, but from the turmoil within myself, I turned inward. I learned to settle my nervous system, and began the work of healing from the inside out.
This personal transformation led me to help others do the same. I founded an organisation dedicated to providing safe spaces and therapy for those experiencing emotional turbulence and distress triggered by trauma, understanding — on a deeply embodied level — what it means to be dysregulated, disconnected, and desperate for safety.
For over 10 years, I’ve provided face-to-face counselling, received positive rewarding feedback and zero complaints about my practice. But much more than that, I care deeply and genuinely about supporting others. I listen with compassion, strive to understand their unique perspectives, and offer a non-judgmental space where they feel seen and heard. This isn’t just a job for me — it’s a calling rooted in lived experience, empathy, and a belief in human potential. Every practitioner who joins our organisation share our vision and values.
I have studied, trained, and earned many qualifications, including my Level 4 Diploma in Counselling. I am also due to begin my dissertation in January as the final part of my MSc degree at the University of the West of Scotland — a significant milestone in my ongoing academic and professional journey. My commitment to continuous learning reflects my deep belief that both lived experience and formal education have a role to play in building effective, compassionate counsellors. But most of all, I have lived it.
Our organisation strives to bridge the gap between lived experience and education. We recognise that true understanding doesn’t just come from textbooks or theory, but from life itself. By integrating lived experience with professional training, we aim to create a more inclusive, accessible, and human approach to support and care.
One of the ways we do this is through our trauma-informed framework, TRUST, which was developed with input from survivors. This model centres around five core principles that guide how we support individuals in moments of distress and dysregulation:
•T - Trigger: Acknowledgment and identification of the triggers that activate a stress response. When we can name it, we can tame it.
•R - Reassurance: Offering compassion, empathy, and emotional support to soothe the nervous system. Reassurance is the antidote to fear.
•U - Understanding: Cultivating understanding from those around us, including family, friends, and professionals, to prevent isolation and further harm.
•S - Safety: Establishing a sense of safety both within ourselves and in our physical environment, because without safety, no healing can begin.
•T - Truth: Practicing congruence, honesty, and transparency, ensuring that those we support experience relationships rooted in trust, not deception or control.
This framework was built on lived experience and survivor input, reflecting the real needs of those who have lived through trauma. It’s more than a theory — it’s a practice.
TRUST is a daily commitment to understanding, supporting, and empowering people to feel safe, seen, and heard. It challenges the traditional “clinical” model of care by centring lived experience and emotional safety as essential components of healing.
And yet, in the eyes of many professional systems, I am still not “enough.”
The System of Accreditation: Inclusion by Exclusion
Despite my qualifications, experience, and the depth of my understanding, I am often overlooked or dismissed for one reason: I do not belong to one of the “approved” accredited bodies, instead, I am a Chartered Fellow Member of ACCPH (Accredited Counsellors, Coaches, Psychotherapists & Hypnotherapists) — an organisation that recognises the value of lived experience alongside formal qualifications. This was a deliberate choice, as it aligns with my own organisation’s commitment to genuine inclusion.
Many of the so-called “inclusive” bodies claim to champion diversity, but their version of inclusion is conditional. It’s inclusion by exclusion. If you’ve learned through alternative pathways, such as online study, or if your qualifications aren’t tied to a specific institutional stamp, you’re shut out. It’s as if experience, wisdom, and lived knowledge don’t count unless they’ve been rubber-stamped by a select few.
But here’s the irony: The very skills that are most essential for helping dysregulated people — creating a sense of safety, understanding the nervous system, and offering authentic, non-judgmental presence — are not guaranteed by formal accreditation. A person fresh from university with no lived experience can access roles and opportunities that are denied to those with deep, hard-earned understanding.
This is not inclusion. This is exclusion disguised as professionalism.
Why This Matters
When systems define “worthiness” solely by membership to a specific body, they send a clear message: “You are not good enough.” This message echoes the internal narratives that so many people in crisis already carry. It mirrors the exact wounds we, as counsellors, are here to help people heal.
Those of us with lived experience often know this message all too well. We’ve spent years untangling the belief that we are not enough. And for some of us, these accreditation systems become just one more external voice telling us the same story. This isn’t just a professional issue — it’s a human one.
Many people who struggle to thrive in traditional educational environments can succeed through alternative routes, such as online study, self-guided learning, or mentorship. ACCPH recognises this. They allow students who have completed recognised qualifications to join, offering a pathway for those who may not have followed the “standard” route. Other accrediting bodies, however, close that door.
This is why it’s essential to question the criteria by which we define competence and professionalism. Experience matters. Lived knowledge matters. And yet, the current system often rewards theory over practice, and process over presence.
What We Need to Change
If the goal is to create a profession that truly serves people in crisis, then we need to start by rethinking how we assess competence. Competence is not determined by a logo on a certificate. It is determined by a person’s capacity to hold space, to regulate their own nervous system, and to offer authentic, grounded support.
Here’s what we need to consider:
Experience Matters: Can the counsellor recognise when they are regulated or dysregulated? Do they understand what it means to hold space for someone in the grip of a survival response?
Presence Over Process: It’s not the name of the accrediting body that calms a person in crisis — it’s the quality of presence and connection.
True Inclusion: If inclusion requires you to meet narrow, exclusionary criteria, then it’s not inclusion at all.
People in crisis don’t ask for a counsellor’s accreditation status. They ask for connection, empathy, and safety.
Learning to Approve of Yourself in a System That Disapproves of You
When the system tells you that you’re not good enough, it’s easy to believe it. After all, for many of us, it’s a message we’ve been hearing since childhood. But I’ve learned something else in my journey — a truth that no system can take from me.
You do not need external approval to know your own worth.
For years, I chased it. I ran from place to place, role to role, looking for someone to tell me I was good enough. But no system, no job, and no title will ever give you that. The only way to stop running is to turn within, to anchor yourself in your own knowing.
I have lived through war, violence, homelessness, and poverty. I have rebuilt myself from the ground up. I have supported others to do the same. I have studied, trained, and grown. I belong here — not because a system says I do, but because I know I do.
If you’ve ever been told you’re not enough because you don’t meet the criteria of an external system, I want you to hear this: You are enough. Your lived experience matters. Your capacity to heal and hold space matters. And while systems may fail us, we do not have to fail ourselves.
Repeat after me: “I Approve of Myself”
Food for Thought
Conveying the experience of living through a dorsal vagus lens to someone who has never felt it is profoundly difficult.
Having experienced life through both a dorsal and ventral lens, it's clear that the difficulty goes both ways. Just as it's nearly impossible to convey the weight of dorsal to someone who hasn't lived it, it's equally challenging to fully remember or relate to it when you're in a ventral state.
In dorsal, your mind is consumed by a sense of impending threat and looming danger, imagining the worst in every situation. Words feel insufficient to bridge the gap between these states. The harder you try to explain, the further away you seem to get from being understood. You sense the other person pulling away — not out of malice, but out of incomprehension — yet it feels like rejection, deepening the isolation. The feelings are within you, but they appear to be coming from those we interact with - there reactions are often confusing and disorientating through the distorted lens of dorsal, that we are completely unaware of. We imagine it is them as opposed to us. The gaze of professionals can be just as disorienting. Their well-meaning expressions spark a quiet panic in your soul, signalling not understanding but judgment — mirroring the relentless self-criticism already at play within you.
The following exercise aims to bridge the gap.
Visualise two buffet tables in front of you:
•The Table of Abundance (Ventral State) — a luxurious delicious, nutritious, banquet
•The Table of Lack (Dorsal State) — a table with a murky grey tablecloth, less than appetising, although similar in appearance to the untrained eye
Each table is filled with "food" — but this food is not physical. It represents thoughts.
Here's how it works:
1.The Luxurious Table (Ventral: Abundance) contains thoughts of joy, love, gratitude, possibility, and hope.
2.The Grey Table (Dorsal: Lack) contains thoughts of scarcity, fear, hopelessness, and isolation.
The choice of which table you "eat" from determines your internal experience. Remember this simple process:
Thought → Feeling → Action
If you select "joy" from the ventral table, what does joy feel like in your body? Heart, Soul?
You begin to feel joy within, which shapes your actions and, in turn, your lived experience.
If you select "lack of joy" from the dorsal table, you feel its absence, leading to experiences of isolation, scarcity, and limitation. True for every choice you make
Something you may be unaware of is, your starting point is always your last choice. Your point of power is NOW...
Every choice is a fresh opportunity to decide which table you will eat from next. But here's the challenge:
When we experience trauma, it's like being locked in a room with only the 'lack of' table. The luxurious 'ventral' table is there, but is feels unreachable, out of bounds, unavailable to the 'likes of you'. We observe as others select the juicy fruits of love, joy, wellbeing and abundance, but its off limits - no obvious access - which feels like exclusion. You may believe there's no other option but to consume from the Table of Lack. The more we observe others enjoying the table of abundance, the more we gorge on a diet of 'a lack of', internalising misery. This is the experience of a "dorsal state" — the shutdown, numbness, and disconnection that often follow overwhelm or trauma.
The Way Out - The gift of inclusion..
Here's the secret: You use your imagination to "transform" the 'dorsal' lack of table into the ventral table of abundance. We don’t realise this from the dorsal perspective, someone needs to guide us. It’s challenging, but it’s entirely achievable with the right support in the right space, with reassurance understanding and without criticism or judgment.
Instead of trying to fight your way out of the dorsal state, which only serves to keep you trapped in there, you come to see abundance where you currently see lack. By "tricking" your brain, you shift perception from scarcity to abundance.
Someone from the table of abundance has to open the door for you, authentically welcoming you in… guide you to take your rightful place at the table of abundance, helping you to choose what to eat.. they do so - as an equal, you are not a guest .. reminding you how you have always belonged here, even though you may not feel like you should be there.
Your invite to dine at the table of an abundance has to be constantly renewed and communicated to you until you feel you belong. It has to be okay when you forget your manners, spill on your clothes, forget to use your cutlery. You are welcomed and guided back to the table until you are able to approach and consume from the table alone - once you feel safe, confident and comfortable to do so.
There is a buffer of time between the thoughts we consume and the experiences they create. Unsure? What is your current state? Which table have you been feasting from? Your current state is not fixed — it is simply the result of past choices, and a new choice can redirect your experience.
Beliefs are the thoughts we persistently hold. Since thoughts are malleable, we have the power to alter our beliefs by consciously selecting different thoughts.
5 Take-aways...
- You are always choosing which table to eat from.
- Trauma makes you feel trapped with the Table of Lack, but it is only an illusion.
- Your power is now. The table you choose today shapes the feelings and actions you experience tomorrow.
- You can shift states by changing your perspective — see the possibility, love, or joy hidden within the present moment.
- We are here to support and guide you through.. Get In Touch
(Food for Thought; The Two Tables of the Mind - by Deborah J Crozier/2024).
From the Safety of Ventral
If you’ve been fortunate enough to spend most of your life in a ventral vagal nervous system state, you might not fully understand what it’s like to experience a dorsal state. You may not realize the toll it takes when an overactive inner critic constantly drives negative self-perception at every turn, or when your perspective is persistently shaped by a sense of scarcity and inadequacy, no matter the situation.
You might not comprehend the profound exhaustion of trying to push forward when every cell in your body feels like giving up. The pervasive sense of disconnection and isolation—saturating every part of one’s being—might be entirely foreign to you.
It’s easy to see the surface symptoms without grasping the deeper struggles beneath. If ventral has been your baseline—the state that fosters joy, creativity, love, and self-worth—take a moment to be grateful. And before passing judgment, consider the privilege of never having lived through what you cannot truly understand.
Imposter
What is Imposter Syndrome Really?
Imposter Syndrome is often described as a persistent lack of self-belief — a chronic sense of self-doubt. At its core, self-doubt is a loss of trust, both in our own judgment and in the judgments of others. This loss of trust is, in many cases, a trauma response.
The root cause of self-doubt lies in our negative core beliefs. Over time, we unconsciously assign meaning to the negative behaviours of others, asking ourselves questions like, “What did I do to make them treat me that way?” This pattern leads us to internalise blame and view others’ unkind actions as a reflection of our own worth. In reality, other people’s behaviour says more about them than it does about us.
However, this internalised negative self-narrative becomes persistent. Critical and judgmental self-talk keeps us trapped in a cycle of self-loathing and doubt, constantly seeking validation and approval from others. We become highly sensitive to external triggers — words, actions, or events that echo past traumas. Often, these triggers operate outside of our conscious awareness.
Internal triggers are just as powerful. They tap into our deepest fears and insecurities. For example, if we hold a long-standing core belief like “I’m not good enough,” any comment, action, or situation that aligns with this belief can provoke intense emotional distress. In an effort to escape these uncomfortable feelings, we may turn to avoidance behaviours like overeating, overworking, shopping, drinking alcohol, or withdrawing socially.
How do we heal from Imposter Syndrome?
The healing process begins with self-care and self-awareness — learning to understand how we feel about ourselves at a core level. Society often teaches us to seek validation from external sources, but true growth comes from looking within. By addressing and reprogramming these deep-seated beliefs, we can break free from the cycle of doubt and rediscover our self-worth.
If you’re ready to begin your healing journey, we’re here to support you.
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