Events that cause intense emotional distress affect us not only mentally but also physiologically. When trauma strikes, the limbic brain—the center for emotion—can become overactive, while areas responsible for rational thinking, like the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and thalamus, may shut down.
This imbalance leaves individuals highly sensitive to perceived threats, caught in a loop of reacting to triggers. They may struggle to differentiate between past and present, safe and unsafe, leading to a constant sense of vulnerability.
They are stuck fighting invisible threats, unable to successfully detect whether a situation is dangerous or safe, whether it's happening in the present or in the past, and whether it will ever end.
Though everyone’s experiences differ, trauma often stems from feeling unseen, unacknowledged, or dismissed.
In other words, a lack of attunement—feeling as though no one truly connects with us.
Extensive research has shown that chronic emotional abuse or neglect can have an impact as severe as physical abuse or sexual trauma.
Even when we try to find meaning in our suffering, revisiting these memories often causes the brain to react as if they were happening now. Each recollection can release stress hormones that deepen these imprints, distancing us from the present, which begins to feel less engaging.
One quote that resonated with me explains:
"Our emotions assign value to experiences and thus are the foundation of reason. […]
When our emotional and rational brains are in conflict, as when we’re enraged with someone we love, frightened by someone we depend on, or lust after someone off-limits, a tug-of-war ensues."
In response to distress, some people shut down emotionally rather than experience an overactive mind. Unable to process their pain, they choose to numb it.
While this approach may help them function, the body doesn’t forget; physiological responses remain, and by numbing the bad, they risk losing their ability to fully feel pleasure, joy and even recognize their emotions.
When an individual feels threatened, their response typically follows one of three stages, each corresponding to a physiological level of perceived safety.
The first response is social engagement – asking for help.
If this call goes unanswered, the next level is fight-or-flight.
When an individual cannot escape or defend themselves from the threat, they enter the final stage: freeze or collapse.
For those who feel constantly triggered, the most crucial part of recovery is fostering a sense of safety through supportive, meaningful connections with others. These connections, marked by reciprocity and genuine attunement, can help recalibrate one’s response to perceived danger. I
t’s not merely about being around others but feeling truly connected, which helps reinforce safety and self-attunement over time.
The goal isn’t just to understand that the threat is in the past but to allow the body to experience safety in the present.
"It clarifies why a kind face or soothing tone can dramatically alter how we feel, why being seen and heard by those we care about can make us feel calm and safe, and why being ignored or dismissed can lead to rage or a sense of collapse."
What I found unexpected in this book was its emphasis on the importance of individual perspectives and emotions.
Often, we’re conditioned to think that if an emotion holds us back, we should ignore it and push through. Yet this book emphasizes that every emotion matters deeply and affects us physically as well. In a society quick to prescribe pills to ease our problems, this book suggests a more thoughtful approach: taking time to understand our emotions without rushing or judging.
A therapeutic approach limited to talk therapy and medication is incomplete if it doesn’t restore a sense of safety within the brain and body.
The book encourages a state of true attunement with our bodies, which, in turn, connects us to the reality of the present.