So, you have an idea of what you want to say to a loved one about what you’ve gone through. You’ve thought about what might come up for you while you tell them, and practiced soothing yourself in different ways so that you have some go-tos for how you might bring yourself back to the present if you need to. If you missed part 1, you can read that here.
What’s next: Planning for what you might specifically need from the conversation and person you’ll be telling.
Questions and Reactions
Imagine: you’re face-to-face with your loved one and you’re sharing this difficult part of your story with them. Will you accept questions at any point? And do you want to tend to their emotions in any way, as you tell them or afterward?
People are probably going to have questions about what’s caused your pain.* But that doesn’t mean you need to answer them, and it definitely doesn’t make you “mean” or “selfish” if you don’t want to answer them. On the one hand, fielding questions might help you further organize and understand what happened to you, but it might also make you feel more exposed and interrogated. So just remember that, while you can’t control how people react, you can control what you’ll discuss by thinking about what you might need and feel beforehand.
It’s also normal for a wide range of emotions to come up for your loved one in response to your story.* Depending on your relationship, you might feel like tending to each other’s more painful emotional reactions is part of how you support each other. But telling them about your trauma is going to be a little different than your average exchange: it’s probably going to be emotional for you, and you’re allowed to request that the person you’re telling to seek out support elsewhere so that you can focus on tending to yourself, as you tell your story and after you’re done. If you’d like to be present for what might come up for your loved one, account for that as something during which you might need to soothe yourself and think about what might do that best.
Let’s Talk About Breaks, Baby
Think about when you might need a break, either based on which emotions might necessitate one or certain parts in the story that are difficult to think back on and allow yourself to take them ahead of time.
Breaks can be hard for trauma survivors to take for themselves. A lot of people feel shame around rest and pacing themselves, as if it implies they’re weak or not willing to “power through” in the best way for others. I’ll take this time to remind you that you’re telling this story for you. You can think ahead to when you might need to take a breather, but when the time comes, you’ll need to allow yourself to actually take it. This might mean practicing taking breaks during work, creative time, or times you interact with the person you’re planning on sharing your story with. Do whatever will help you practice allowing yourself to listen to and validate your own emotional cues.
This practice will also help you heal from your trauma. The more in sync we are with our emotional cues, the easier it’ll be to validate them as real, investigate them with curiosity, and give ourselves what we need in the way we couldn’t when we were experiencing trauma.
With that in mind, play with what a break might look like for you.
For some people, it means physically leaving a space and engaging in something entirely different than whatever you were doing before. For others, it means a couple of deep breaths as you follow the sensations of each inhale and exhale. Breaks can look different depending on why you need them, where you are, and who you’re around at the time. Find out what fulfilling breaks can be for you based on how you feel when you return from them, and take them as often as you can to reinforce that you’re allowed to have them.
Figure Out What You’ll Need from Your Loved One
The bad news? No matter how supportive your loved one is, they won’t be able to fix what happened to you.* I have so much compassion for why you might want the pain to stop and those memories to be plucked clean out of your timeline, but it’s simply not possible.
What you can hope to get is support and understanding.** Consider how to make what happened to you digestible to the person you’re telling–down to which types of details help them empathize with others and how much they can absorb in one sitting–and shape your story accordingly. Then, identify which type of support you’ll want from them in particular and what you want them to understand. This will make it easier to decide what you’re going to share. Clear goals for what you want out of this can be worth its weight in gold if you begin to second-guess yourself about sharing what happened to you in the first place.
It makes sense to need a safe environment with your loved one when you’re sharing a painful experience, and how you talk about that experience–on top of explicitly asking for what would be helpful beforehand–can invite the support and understanding you didn’t get in the past.
Trauma and the Two of You
Are you open to discussing how you think, feel, and act around your loved one as a result of your trauma? You might better understand all of that if you make it part of the conversation, which could include getting curious about anything you feel around them that’s changed since your trauma happened.**
Potential benefits? This could help them understand what you’re navigating when you have a trigger around them, including what might’ve caused the trigger.* That could make them a supportive ally who gets you the physical or emotional space you need, or lead them to say or do things that help soothe you and bring you back to the present.*,**
Potential drawback? Someone knowing about your triggers and getting into the mix when you’re time traveling might feel intrusive. And if that’s the case, that’s ok. Managing triggers can feel best alone, with others, or in some specific ratio you figure out over time. The common thread here is that you get to decide whether you want to talk about this aspect of your relationship (and trauma). You can invite the conversation on your own terms or decide preemptively that it’s not something you want to discuss.
That’s a lot to think about…
I hear you. In our last blogpost in this series, we’ll be discussing gathering further support and how to have the actual conversation. But for now, I suggest you do a couple of things: consider which questions help you feel more grounded; allow yourself to take breaks when you’re feeling triggered, distressed, or generally tapped out; consider why the loved one you’re thinking of talking to about your trauma feels like a safe person to tell, and if anything could help them feel even safer; and think about how much you want to explore the impact of your trauma on your relationship (or don’t). Use this blogpost as an outline to explore how this conversation could feel as healing as possible for you, and continue listening to your emotions and pacing yourself accordingly.
Each time we follow our emotions and experiences as a guide for what we need and what makes us feel grounded, we tell our minds and bodies that it’s safe to listen and settle.
And you deserve settling and peace after everything you’ve gone through.
