
Feeling misunderstood is a very common trigger for many complex trauma survivors.
We will do deep back bends, behaviorally and emotionally, to try to prevent being misunderstood.
We will overexplain. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot.
We can get very defensive, very quickly, if we feel someone is misunderstanding where we’re coming from, what we’re saying, what we want.
Much of this stems from being not listened to when we were growing up.
Many of us have convinced ourselves that the problem was, actually, in us— that we didn’t communicate well enough, or we weren’t assertive enough.
As a result, when we’re misunderstood as adults, it can make us feel ashamed.
We assume that if we’re being misunderstood, it’s because of our failure. Our inadequacy. Maybe our “weakness” or “stupidity.”
Feeling misunderstood is a huge trigger for me, personally.
It brings me back to conversations with my dad, who loved “debate” as a form of communication and entertainment.
One of his favorite tactics was to reframe whatever you were arguing with the phrase, “so, what you’re saying is…” or “so, to be clear…”
Of course, this was never an attempt to “be clear.” This was an attempt to get you to agree to his framing of your argument. And his framing of your argument was always designed to make you feel stupid.
I don’t mind losing debates. (I don’t especially care if I win them, either, actually. As you might guess, my experiences with my father profoundly soured me on all things “debate.”)
But it makes me crazy to think that somebody thinks I think or feel something I don’t think or feel.
I want to argue. I want to correct them. I want to explain.
This is a problem when— as sometimes happens in the world— I’m in an exchange with someone who isn’t, actually, interested in understanding where I’m coming from.
As I’ve worked my own trauma recovery, I’ve gotten better— sort of— at letting it go when I realize that I’m just going to be misunderstood by a person, and there’s functionally nothing I can do about it.
But it still makes me crazy. And it leads me to shut down.
For many complex trauma survivors, feeling misunderstood essentially feels like an attack— because, in certain relationships in our past, that’s functionally what it was.
You need to know that it’s normal to shut down when you feel attacked.
You also need to know that there are going to b LOTS of people who want to argue with you in this world for reasons other than whatever the subject at hand is.
We have to do what we can to not let it get in our head or under our skin.
For me, feeling attacked and misunderstood keys right into a “freeze” trauma response. Your mileage may vary.
Letting go of the fantasy that we can make everyone— or anyone— perfectly understand us is hard.
Trauma Brain tries to tell us we just need to try harder.
Trauma Brain tries to tell us that, if we just explained it well enough, we wouldn’t be misunderstood.
It’s not true. You’re going to be misunderstood. I’m going to be misunderstood. It’s going to happen.
It’s a bummer. Depending on who we’re talking about, it might be a big bummer. Sad. Maddening. Depressing.
I know. But breathe into it.
Breathe; blink; focus.
This is where that “radical acceptance” thing comes in handy.
