You were meant for more than “coping.”

Many trauma survivors have been told we’re strong. And we are. 

The thing is, many people seem to think that acknowledging trauma survivors’ strength is all we need in order to feel and function better. 

They seem to think that because we’re so strong— so “resilient” (ugh, that word)— we don’t, or shouldn’t, need additional support to recover from what happened to us. 

Many people seem to think that because what traumatized us is entirely or mostly in the past, “the worst is over.” 

Those people haven’t suffered from complex trauma. 

It’s often— but not always— the case that our initial trauma is in the past. 

But what people don’t understand is that living with complex trauma s itself a traumatic stressor— one that itself meets every criteria of complex trauma (it occurs over time; it’s functionally inescapable; it entwines with all of our important relationships). 

Yes, complex trauma survivors are strong. But here’s the thing: we shouldn’t have had to be. 

And, going forward, we shouldn’t have to be as strong as we were back then just to build a life we don’t to end every day. 

You there, reading this, are strong. 

But I think your strength is meant for something more than just survival. 

I think your strength was meant for creation. 

I think your strength was meant for love. 

I think your strength was meant for supporting people and causes you care passionately about. 

I don’t think the destiny of anybody reading this is to just get by. 

Coping is really important— but I don’t believe it’s the end all, be all of trauma recovery. 

We are not doing this in order to cope. 

We have to cope in order to do the things we really want to do. The things we were meant to do. 

The things that our bullies and abusers tried to take away from us. 

Trauma has this way of dragging us away from the things we love. 

Not just the people we love— though it does that, too— but the interests and passions and journeys that make life meaningful. 

Trauma has this way of consuming us such that every single day becomes about trauma. 

I don’t think we were meant to live like that. 

I don’t think that’s an ideal use of your strength; or your creativity; or your life. 

There is a myth out there that committing to trauma recovery means you make surviving trauma your identity— but nothing could be farther from the truth. 

We commit to trauma recovery precisely because we DON’T want trauma reactions and symptoms to become our identity. 

In the best possible version of trauma recovery, we get so adept at using the skills, tools, and philosophies of trauma recovery that we can, paradoxically, kind of forget about them. They’re just second nature to us. 

When trauma recovery becomes the lens through which we live our lives, trauma ceases to be the centerpiece of our lives. 

When, then, is the centerpiece of our lives, if not trauma?

It’s whatever and whoever you want it to be. 

Your strength was not meant to bear suffering. 

Your strength was meant to create your unique life and legacy. 

That’s what I think, anyway.