Why Relational Trauma Needs More Airtime… Because There’s More Than Enough That’s Gone Around
Relational trauma. Never heard of it. I’m not surprised, because it doesn’t get a lot of airtime. When we hear trauma, we usually think of “Big T” traumas—things like surviving accidents, disasters, or violent crimes. Yet relational traumas are quite possibly the most pervasive forms of trauma in the human experience. It often hides in plain sight. It hides under the cloaks of emotional neglect, especially in childhood, and feeling abandoned in adult relationships.
We don’t often consider adult relationships to be traumatizing unless there is the presence of domestic violence. We consider these more under the “little t” traumas. Now, “little t” doesn’t mean it isn’t significant; it’s more that there isn’t a single event we can point to as the cause of the trauma. Instead, it is the cumulative effect; the slow, steady erosion of safety that happens when the people we are supposed to trust most fail to see, hear, or protect us.
Relational trauma needs more airtime because it’s often dismissed as people being over-dramatic or not mentally strong. Take the recent commentary on how we should just ‘let go’ of experiences that caused us harm in an effort to maintain family contact and dynamics. This goes beyond just a bit of hurt here and there; it can fundamentally shift how safe we feel. When our body continues to experience a lack of safety, it can shift how our nervous system responds, rewiring it to become numb to extreme pain or highly reactive.
What Does Relational Trauma Actually Look Like? (The "Signals")
What is labeled in our world as symptoms is usually the clinical view of what has been decided as ‘wrong’ with us. But if we can use these signals to understand what we need more support on, they can serve a greater purpose. Some of these are the typical “symptoms,” or signals, as I’ll call them, letting you know you’ve experienced relational trauma.
The Invisible Signs You Might Be Ignoring
Self-gaslighting: When you feel like your reaction is strong and you convince yourself that you’re simply being ‘too sensitive’ or “dramatic,” as a way to convince yourself to move on. This is a survival mechanism; if the problem is you, then you still have the power to "fix" it and stay in the situation. It’s a self-blame boomerang.
Emotional Numbness: It feels hard to feel things, good or bad; it’s almost like you’re visiting your own life, a ‘checked-out’ feeling. This is often a dissociative response used to survive environments in which the emotional truth is too painful to stay present for.
People-pleasing & Difficulty w/ Boundary Setting: Saying ‘no’ or speaking up in disagreement feels impossible. You may as well crumble into the earth; you’ll avoid it at all costs, even if it costs you your happiness.
Hyper-vigilance: Being constantly on the lookout, minding what you say and how you say it; think "walking on eggshells." It looks like clocking how the other person will react: paying attention to micro-cues to anticipate their mood to determine how ‘safe’ it feels. This is your nervous system staying in a "high alert" state to prevent a surprise attack on your emotions.
Fawning: This is a newer addition to the fight-flight-freeze response. Fawning is using people-pleasing as a distraction from distress or conflict. This often happens in households where a child is used to having to intervene to soothe one or both parents. You might be the jokester, or the one who tries to take the heat off in a situation by being a storyteller, or soothing the most activated person.
The Ripple Effect: How It Shows Up Now
The relationships we have with others are such a huge part of our lives. We crave connection and support, so when our fundamental understanding of relationships is messed with because of others’ own pain, it can mess with our own system to the point that it can be hard to feel safe.
The Inner Critic and the "Fraud" Complex
You become your own toughest critic, convinced you deserve the negative monologue. Really, it’s an attempt to keep you safe from the pain of others seeing how much of a ‘fraud’ you are. If you criticize yourself first, it doesn't hurt as much when others do it, or so the brain thinks. It’s a way to feel like you don’t deserve much, so it’s okay to accept not getting much.
Partnerships & Friendships
These can feel like landmines. Either you tend to accept whatever comes your way because you fear attention won't come back around, or you cut yourself off—snarling or being unkind— as a form of self-protection. This is often referred to as Anxious, Avoidant or Fearful-Avoidant Attachment styles. The anxious accepts whatever comes their way, the avoidant are snarly, and the fearful-avoidant does a combination: snarls and seeks whatever comes their way. This all results in a fear of being abandoned being strong and serves as a protective mechanism. In all sceanrios trust is earned over time and fragile.
The High Cost of the "Workhorse" Mentality
Work is a perfect place where performance is monitored and rewarded. But the need to over-perform can place a huge weight on work being fulfilling. It creates a crippling feeling that it is unacceptable to make mistakes. There’s a toxic element to proving your worth in the workspace because your earning potential and identity become tied to being "perfect." This leads to extreme burnout and a fear of speaking up for yourself if your needs are unmet.
Relational Trauma… and how CPTSD fits in
I want to take a moment to talk about how relational trauma fits into the trauma schema. We’ve heard of PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), the thing we most often associate with incidents of “Big T” traumas. But what happens when someone is exposed to repeated pain that slowly but consistently chips away at them?
Being exposed to a repetitive lack of safety leads to more moments of “little t” traumas which over time can lead to a more formal diagnosis referred to as C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder).
When a person experiences frequent but unpredictable events of abuse or neglect, it leads to hyper-vigilance because the individual is constantly anticipating pain. Our brains try their best to protect us. It ignites the fight-flight-freeze-fawn response.
Brain "Safe Mode"
When you are constantly operating on essential functions only, the brain goes into a "safe mode." While everything is still technically online, you are left with a body that is figuratively disconnected from the brain. These repeated moments of activation lead to too many safe mode initiations, resulting in:
Gaps in memory: Your brain didn't think "recording" the memory was as important as surviving the moment.
The "Fog": Feeling like you are moving through molasses or can't think clearly under pressure.
System Overload: Difficulty speaking up for yourself; your mind goes offline as soon as you are asked a question, and the pressure builds.
Why Don't We Talk About It? The Stigma of "Invisible" Pain
Society places a lot of pressure on people to move on from pain quickly, with as little disturbance to those around them. Like grief, the pain of relational trauma is invisible to the naked eye. There’s an expectation that if you are impacted, you should ‘show’ signs of distress, like physical pain or obvious anxiety.
The Power Dynamics of Silence
Because relational trauma is based on the connection between two people, the manipulation the person in power has is quite great. For example, when Partner A experiences harm from Partner B, they often have a hard time believing such a bad thing could come from a "loving" partner. Partner B may apologize for "mistakes," and Partner A, invested in the relationship, starts to question their own worldview.
This investment fuels the abuse cycle. Relationships are built over time, and relational abuse is no different. When a series of harmful moments happens, they become normalized. If isolation is ensured—as it often is—it allows for very little room for the recipient to make connective points or realize they are being mistreated.
Breaking the Cycle: Healing and the "Resilience" Myth
If this resonates with you, I’m glad you found this post. Part of being able to move through this pain is first recognizing that it is real. What can be toughest is when it is hard to articulate experiences that we don’t have a clear recollection of.
Our bodies have an incredible capacity to push through, often labeled as being “resilient.” But your resilience isn’t in gritting your teeth and bearing the pain; it’s actually in seeking out support.
Steps Toward Healing
Validation: Acknowledging that "nothing happened" is often the trauma itself (neglect). Your pain is valid even without a "Big T" event.
Somatic Work: Learning to reconnect the brain and body. Since relational trauma lives in the nervous system, healing often happens through the body, not just talk therapy.
Community: Finding "safe" people who allow you to practice setting boundaries without punishment.
By taking the time to acknowledge and understand this pain, we give more room for healing and less room for generational trauma. When the body holds onto pain, we carry that into how we treat others. The choice to acknowledge relational trauma is an opportunity to be part of a greater global healing.
You have every ability and right to heal. You are worthy of love and safety; it is and has always been your birthright.
Be well.
Frequently Asked Questions About Relational Trauma
1. What is the difference between Relational Trauma and "standard" PTSD?
While Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is often triggered by a single, life-threatening event (like a car accident or natural disaster), Relational Trauma is typically cumulative. It is the result of repeated emotional injuries within a close relationship. This distinction is why it is often categorized under Complex PTSD (C-PTSD). Unlike a single event that has a clear "before and after," relational trauma often feels like the very fabric of your daily life has been woven with threads of unpredictability and emotional unsafety.
2. Can you have relational trauma from a "good" childhood?
Yes. Relational trauma isn't always about what did happen (like physical abuse); it is often about what didn't happen. This is known as Childhood Emotional Neglect (CEN). If your physical needs were met—you had food, clothes, and a roof—but your emotional world was ignored, shamed, or minimized, your nervous system can still develop trauma responses. The "invisible" nature of neglect makes it harder to identify, but the impact on adult attachment and self-worth is just as significant.
3. How does relational trauma affect the brain?
When you are in a relationship where safety is inconsistent, your amygdala (the brain's alarm system) becomes hyper-sensitive. It begins to view neutral cues—like a partner’s quiet mood or a boss’s brief email—as direct threats. Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex (the rational part of the brain) may "go offline" during conflict. This is why you might find it impossible to find your words or think logically when you feel emotionally threatened; your brain has prioritized survival over communication.
4. Is it possible to "heal" your attachment style?
Absolutely. This is often referred to as developing Earned Secure Attachment. While relational trauma may have wired you for anxiety or avoidance, the brain has neuroplasticity (the ability to adapt and rewire). Through consistent work, often involving somatic (body-based) therapy, boundary-setting practice, and building "safe" community, you can teach your nervous system that connection does not always equal danger. Healing is not about erasing the past, but about building a present in which you are no longer a prisoner of your old survival triggers.
5. Why do I feel guilty for acknowledging my trauma?
Guilt is a very common side effect of relational trauma, especially if the person who caused the harm was a parent or a "loving" partner. You may feel like you are being "disloyal" or "dramatic" by calling your experiences trauma. This is often a result of Self-Gaslighting, a mechanism that once protected you. If you blamed yourself for the problems in the relationship, it gave you a sense of control. Acknowledging that the trauma was not your fault means accepting that you were powerless at the time, which can feel scarier than carrying the guilt.
Surabhi Jagdish is a licensed psychotherapist with over 11 years of experience. She blends her clinical expertise with her lived experience as a child of immigrant parents. Using an integrative, trauma-informed approach, Surabhi supports individuals and couples navigating anxiety, complex trauma, depression, and relational wounds. Her work is rooted in curiosity and reflection, helping clients move beyond survival toward more meaningful connection to themselves and their relationships.
If you’re looking for support with relational trauma and are ready to try out therapy in Texas, Colorado, or Minnesota, let’s connect through a consultation call to get you started. Click ‘book now’ to get started.
