When people hear the word trauma, they often imagine a single dramatic event. Often people associate trauma with the experiences of veterans who have seen war. But you might also think of a serious car accident, a violent assault, a natural disaster, or something else that is clearly frightening and life-changing. And you’d be right, trauma can certainly arise from experiences like these. But that’s not the whole picture, and experiencing trauma is often much more complex than many people realise.
Something I often hear from clients is uncertainty about whether what they experienced was "bad enough" to be considered traumatic. They compare themselves to other people and minimise their own experiences. However, trauma is not defined by how dramatic an event appears from the outside. Instead, it is about the impact an experience (or repeated set of experiences) has on us and the way it affects our emotional wellbeing, sense of safety, relationships, and nervous system.
It can sometimes be helpful to think of trauma as anything that overwhelms our ability to cope. This means that two people can experience the same event and be affected very differently. Factors such as age, previous experiences, available support, neurodivergence, and the context in which an event occurs can all influence how we respond.
It’s helpful to distinguish between single-incident trauma and complex trauma. Single-incident trauma refers to a specific event or series of events that occur over a relatively short period of time. These are the types of traumatic incident I mentioned at the beginning of this post; a car accident, a serious illness, a medical procedure, an assault, witnessing violence, or living through natural disaster. It serves as a ‘line in the sand’ in the chronology of our life, with a clear sense of life before and after it happened.
Complex trauma happens differently. Rather than arising from a single event, it is usually the result of repeated experiences that occur over a prolonged period of time, often within our key relationships. This might include domestic abuse, emotional neglect, bullying, or growing up in an environment that felt unpredictable, unsafe, or emotionally invalidating. Because these experiences happen repeatedly, they can become woven into a person's understanding of themselves and the world. Rather than feeling like something that happened to them, complex trauma can feel like part of who they are.
I often think of the difference as like carrying a backpack. A single-incident traumatic event can be like having a large rock suddenly dropped into the bag. You notice the weight immediately because it represents a significant change. Complex trauma, on the other hand, can be like having small stones added every day for years. Each individual stone may seem insignificant on its own, but eventually the backpack becomes incredibly heavy. Because the weight accumulated gradually, you may not even realise how much you are carrying until much later, after it begins to affect every aspect of your life.
Abuse and neglect can take many forms, some of which are easier to recognise than others. Physical abuse involves the use of violence or physical force and is often what people think of first when discussing abuse. Sexual abuse includes any unwanted sexual activity and can occur in childhood or adulthood. Emotional or psychological abuse can be more difficult to identify because it often leaves no visible marks, yet its effects can be profound and long-lasting. This might include criticism, humiliation, intimidation, manipulation, coercive control, gaslighting, rejection, or being made to feel frightened, worthless, or responsible for the emotions of others.
Even harder to identify than abuse is the experience of neglect. Unlike abuse, neglect is characterised by what was missing rather than what was actively done. A child may have their physical needs neglected through a lack of food, clothing, supervision, medical care, or protection. However, emotional neglect can be equally significant. Many adults who seek therapy describe growing up in households where their practical needs were met but their emotional world was largely ignored. They may have had nobody to comfort them when they were upset, nobody who was curious and empathic about their feelings, or nobody who helped them make sense of difficult experiences. As a result, they learned to cope alone, often carrying this pattern into adulthood without realising it.
One of the reasons emotional neglect can be so difficult to identify is because there is often no obvious event to point to. People may say, "Nothing bad happened to me," whilst simultaneously describing childhoods where they felt lonely, unseen, and unsupported. People need more than just food, shelter, and safety. We are relational beings who need to experience connection, acceptance, and emotional attunement. When these needs are not consistently met, it can shape our development and our lives.
Trauma, whether single-incident or complex, affects us in so many ways. It impacts on our thoughts and emotions, as well as affecting our brains and nervous systems.
Our brains are designed to keep us safe, constantly scanning the environment for signs of danger. When a threat is detected, the nervous system activates survival responses such as fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. These responses are not conscious choices. They are automatic protective mechanisms that evolved to help us survive threatening situations.
Trauma can alter the way the brain interprets danger. Even after the traumatic experience is over, the nervous system may continue behaving as though the threat is still present. This can leave people feeling constantly on edge, anxious, and hypervigilant. And it’s exhausting. Some people experience intense emotions that seem to appear without warning, whilst others become disconnected from their feelings altogether. Sleep difficulties, concentration problems, relationship challenges, and a persistent sense of unease are also common experiences. From a trauma-informed perspective, these responses are understandable adaptations developed by a brain and nervous system that has worked hard to keep you safe.
For neurodivergent people, trauma can sometimes be particularly complex. Being autism and ADHD is not traumatic, and certainly not something that need to be cured or fixed. But, many of us grow up in environments that do not fully understand or accommodate our needs. This misattunement at best, or rejection at worst, sustained over time, can have a significant emotional impact.
The relationship between trauma and neurodivergence is not always straightforward. Some experiences that might not be traumatic for one person may feel overwhelming for someone whose nervous system processes information differently. Equally, some difficulties associated with trauma can look similar to experiences associated with autism or ADHD. This is one reason why it is so important for me to approach each client’s experiences with curiosity rather than assumptions. Understanding the context of someone's life, their neurotype, their relationships, and their personal history allows for a much more compassionate and accurate understanding of what they may be experiencing.
This is one of the reasons I value person-centred psychotherapy. Rather than starting with one-size-fits all assessments, diagnoses, or assumptions, person-centred therapy begins with the individual and their unique lived experience. The focus is on creating a therapeutic relationship in which they feel genuinely heard, understood, and accepted.
Many people who have experienced abuse, neglect, or trauma have spent years feeling unseen or misunderstood. They may have learned to dismiss their own feelings, minimise their experiences, or believe that their needs do not matter. Within a person-centred therapeutic relationship, there is an opportunity to explore these experiences in a safe and supportive environment. Through empathy, acceptance, and genuine human connection, people can begin to make sense of what has happened to them and how those experiences continue to affect their lives.
Healing is not about forgetting the past or simply moving on. It’s about developing a deeper understanding of ourselves, our emotional responses, our relationships, and the ways we have adapted to survive difficult experiences. And bringing back a sense of autonomy and agency. Therapy can’t change what happened, but it can help us move from self-criticism towards self-compassion, from confusion towards understanding, and from surviving towards living more fully.