This is Part 4 of the “Weight of Words” series. Read Part 1 | Part 2: The Whisper Test | Part 3: The Compliment That Cuts

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I’m an XL or 1X, depending on the brand and cut.

This isn’t speculation. I know this because I live in this body. Dressing it every single day means I know what fits and what doesn’t. I know what size I reach for when shopping, what size I order online, what size I need to feel comfortable and confident.

So you can imagine my surprise when I mentioned my size recently and someone immediately said: “No you’re not. You’re not that big. You’re definitely not an XL.”

As if they knew my body better than I do.

As if my lived experience of getting dressed every morning was somehow incorrect.

As if their perception of my body trumped my actual knowledge of what fits it.

This is what I call size gaslighting, and it’s more common than you think.

When “Compliments” Become Invalidation

Usually, size gaslighting comes disguised as a compliment. “You’re not THAT size – you carry it well!” or “Girl, you’re definitely not an XL!” or “You don’t look like you wear that size at all!”

Here’s what makes it so insidious: the person saying it genuinely thinks they’re being nice. They think they’re making you feel better. They think they’re giving you a compliment by denying the reality of your body.

What they’re actually doing is telling you that your size is something to be ashamed of – so shameful that they can’t even accept it’s true.

Think about it. When was the last time someone said “You’re not a small!” with that same emphatic reassurance? When did anyone ever protest “No way, you’re definitely not petite!”?

We don’t gaslight people about small sizes. We don’t argue with them. We don’t feel the need to “correct” them or “reassure” them.

We only do this with sizes we’ve decided are unacceptable.

The Hidden Messages in Size Denial

Here’s what this communication actually says:

I like you too much to admit you wear an “undesirable” size. I need to believe you’re smaller than you are so I can continue to approve of you. Your size is so problematic that I literally can’t accept it as reality. You should be ashamed to claim that size, so I’m going to deny it for you.

And perhaps most damaging: Your own knowledge of your body is less valid than my perception of it.

This isn’t just about hurt feelings. This is about invalidation.

The Pattern of Invalidation

In my work with trauma survivors, I see this pattern everywhere: people being told their own experience isn’t real, isn’t valid, isn’t what they think it is. Being told “that didn’t happen that way” or “you’re remembering it wrong” or “it wasn’t that bad.”

When you tell someone they don’t wear the size they know they wear, you’re doing the same thing. Invalidating their lived experience means telling them they can’t trust their own knowledge of their own body.

Research on body image and self-perception shows that this kind of external invalidation contributes to distorted body image and undermines self-trust.

A bizarre situation emerges where someone can’t win.

If I say I’m an XL and you tell me I’m not, what am I supposed to do with that?

The Impossible Position

Should I argue with you about my own body? Should I prove it by showing you tags? Should I feel grateful that you’re “protecting” me from the truth of my own size?

Or should I just learn to stay quiet about my body entirely, because apparently my accurate assessment of it makes people uncomfortable?

Here’s what I think is really happening:

When someone tells you “you’re not that size,” what they’re really saying is: “I can’t reconcile the size you’re telling me with the person I see in front of me – because I’ve been taught that people who wear that size are supposed to be less worthy, less attractive, less acceptable than you are.”

They like you. They value you. They think you look good.

And they can’t hold all of that alongside the “shameful” size you’ve just claimed.

Rewriting Reality Instead of Examining Bias

So instead of examining their own biases about what certain sizes are “supposed” to look like or what people who wear them are “supposed” to be worth, they just… deny your reality.

They rewrite your body to fit their worldview instead of adjusting their worldview to include bodies like yours at sizes like yours.

It’s exhausting.

Because now I’m not just navigating the world in my body – I’m managing other people’s discomfort with what size that body happens to be.

I’ve also noticed this happens in professional settings where someone’s size becomes almost… inconvenient. Where acknowledging the reality of someone’s body might mean acknowledging that your systems, your inventory, your spaces don’t actually include them. So it’s easier to just insist they’re not really that size.

“You’re not an XL!” becomes a way to avoid saying “We don’t carry your size.”

“You don’t look like you wear that!” becomes a way to avoid admitting “We didn’t think about bodies like yours when we planned this.”

The Real Impact of Size Gaslighting

But here’s what I need you to understand:

When you tell me I’m not the size I know I am, you’re not making me feel better. You’re making me feel invisible.

You’re telling me that my reality is negotiable. That my body is up for debate. That I can’t be trusted to know basic facts about my own physical existence.

You’re also reinforcing the idea that certain sizes are so terrible that they can’t be acknowledged – even when they’re literally the truth.

What If We Just Believed People?

What if we just… believed people about their own bodies?

What if when someone says “I’m an XL,” we just accept that as the neutral fact it is?

What if we didn’t treat certain sizes like confessions that need to be argued with or reassured away?

What if we understood that every size is just a size – a measurement, a number, a piece of information about what cut of fabric fits a particular body – and nothing more?

I promise you: I know what size I wear. I’ve known for years. Your denial of it doesn’t change the reality. It just makes me feel like I’m living in a world where even basic facts about my body are considered too shameful to acknowledge.

The Long-Term Consequences

Here’s the thing about gaslighting – even the well-intentioned kind:

It teaches people they can’t trust themselves. It teaches them their reality is less valid than someone else’s perception. It teaches them that certain truths about themselves are so unacceptable that even they shouldn’t speak them out loud.

And after years of this, people stop talking about their bodies at all. They stop advocating for what they need. They stop asking for accommodations. They stop existing fully in spaces because they’ve learned that the truth of their body makes others uncomfortable.

How to Respond When Someone Shares Their Size

So the next time someone tells you their size, believe them.

Don’t argue. Don’t “reassure” them. Don’t tell them they’re wrong about their own body.

Just… believe them.

It’s not a confession. It’s not a problem to be solved. It’s not something that needs your input or correction.

It’s just information. Information they’re sharing because it’s relevant, necessary, or simply true.

And they deserve to have that truth acknowledged – not debated, not denied, not dismissed.

Standing in Your Truth

Because here’s what I know for certain:

I am valuable beyond measure.

Not at the size you think I should be. Not at the size you’re comfortable acknowledging. Not when I’m small enough that you don’t have to whisper about it.

Right now. At this size. The one I actually am.

Valuable beyond measure.

And I don’t need your permission – or your denial – to know it.

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You are valuable beyond measure – and you know your own body better than anyone else ever will.

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CONTINUE THE SERIES:

• Part 1: Why I’m Writing This Series
• Part 2: The Whisper Test
• Part 3: The Compliment That Cuts
• Part 5: The Stories Bodies Tell (Coming soon)

I want you to know something that took me years to learn: Your worth was never on the table.

What happened to you didn’t diminish it, can’t destroy it, and will never define it. You were born worthy, you remained worthy through everything that happened, and you’re worthy right now as you read this.

Not because of what you do or don’t do, but simply because you exist.

As a Christian, I believe this worth is stamped into your very being by the Creator of the universe—you were made in God’s image (Genesis 1:27). But whether or not you share my faith, the truth remains: that’s not something anyone can take from you—not even the person who hurt you.

But if you’ve experienced trauma, especially sexual trauma, you probably don’t feel that way. You probably carry a weight of shame so heavy it’s become part of how you see yourself. And you’ve likely spent years believing that shame is telling you the truth about who you are.

It’s not.

Let me show you why.

The Difference Between Guilt and Shame

Before we go further, we need to understand what shame actually is—because it’s not the same as guilt, even though we often use the words interchangeably.

Guilt says: “I did something bad.”
Shame says: “I am bad.”

Guilt is about behavior. Shame is about identity.

Researcher Dr. Brené Brown has spent decades studying shame, and she explains it this way: “Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.”

When you experience trauma—especially sexual abuse—shame doesn’t just attach itself to what happened. It attaches itself to you. It becomes woven into how you see yourself.

And here’s what makes trauma-based shame so insidious: you didn’t do anything wrong, but your brain interpreted what happened as evidence that something is fundamentally wrong with you.

Why Trauma Creates Shame (Even When It Shouldn’t)

Here’s what happened in your brain during trauma:

When something terrible happens to us, especially as children, our brains try to make sense of it. And children’s brains—even teenage brains—don’t have the capacity to understand that adults can be dangerous, that people who should protect us can hurt us, that the world isn’t always safe.

So instead, your brain came to a different conclusion: “This must be happening because of something about me.”

This is called internalization. And it’s how trauma creates shame.

You might have thought:

• “If I were better, this wouldn’t have happened.”
• “If I had fought harder, said no louder, been smarter…”
• “There must be something about me that made this happen.”
• “I’m dirty now. Damaged. Less than.”

These beliefs weren’t true then, and they’re not true now. But trauma literally changes how your brain processes information about yourself and the world.

Neuroscientist Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, explains that trauma survivors often develop what he calls a “negative self-concept”—a deeply ingrained belief that they are fundamentally flawed or bad. This isn’t a choice. It’s a neurological adaptation your brain made to try to protect you from future harm.

Your brain essentially decided: “If I can figure out what’s wrong with me and fix it, maybe I can prevent this from happening again.”

But you can’t fix what was never broken.

The Shame You Feel Is Not Who You Are

Let me say this clearly: The shame you feel is not who you are.

It’s something that attached itself to you during trauma, like smoke clinging to clothes after a fire.

You are not dirty.
You are not damaged.
You are not less than.
You are not defined by what someone did to you.

The shame you carry belongs to the person who chose to hurt you. They should feel ashamed of their actions. You? You should feel proud that you survived, that you’re seeking healing, that you’re brave enough to read these words.

Scripture speaks to this truth: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). But even if that’s not your faith background, the principle stands—condemnation doesn’t belong on you. The shame was never yours to carry.

But I know that intellectually understanding this and actually feeling it are two very different things.

So let’s talk about why shame feels so real—and how to start releasing it.

What Shame Does to Your Nervous System

Shame isn’t just an emotion. It’s a full-body experience that hijacks your nervous system.

When shame is activated, your body goes into what’s called a “collapse” state. This is one of the nervous system’s responses to threat—similar to how an animal “plays dead” when it can’t fight or flee.

In this collapsed state:

• Your chest feels tight
• Your shoulders curl inward
• You want to hide or disappear
• You feel small and powerless
• Your gaze drops to the floor
• You might struggle to speak or defend yourself

This is why shame is so paralyzing. It literally shuts down the parts of your brain responsible for problem-solving, self-advocacy, and connection.

Shame researcher Dr. June Tangney has found that shame is associated with:

• Increased cortisol (stress hormone)
• Decreased serotonin (mood regulation)
• Hyperactivation of the threat-detection system in the brain
• Reduced activity in areas responsible for empathy and self-compassion

In other words, shame makes your body believe you’re in danger—from yourself.

And here’s the cruelest part: shame thrives in isolation. The more you hide it, the stronger it gets.

This is the opposite of how we were designed to live. We were created for connection, for being fully known and fully loved. Shame tries to convince us that being known means being rejected—but that’s the lie we need to break.

Shame Cannot Survive Being Seen With Compassion

Here’s what I know after years of my own healing work and walking alongside other survivors: shame cannot survive being seen with compassion.

Brené Brown’s research confirms this. She found that shame needs three things to grow:

1. Secrecy
2. Silence
3. Judgment

But shame withers in the presence of:

1. Speaking about it
2. Connection with safe people
3. Compassion (especially self-compassion)

Every time you name shame (“That’s shame talking”), every time you counter its lies with truth, every time you treat yourself with kindness instead of criticism—you’re winning.

This isn’t just a nice idea. This is neuroscience. And it echoes what Scripture has always said: “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Speaking truth—about what happened, about who you really are—breaks shame’s power.

When you practice self-compassion, you activate your brain’s caregiving system—the same neural pathways that light up when a mother comforts a child. This system releases oxytocin and endorphins, which calm your nervous system and counteract the stress response that shame triggers.

Dr. Kristin Neff, a leading researcher on self-compassion, has found that self-compassion is one of the most powerful predictors of mental health and resilience—even more than self-esteem.

Why? Because self-esteem says, “I’m worthy when I succeed, when I’m good enough, when I meet certain standards.”

Self-compassion says, “I’m worthy because I’m human. Period.”

Or as I see it: I’m worthy because I’m made by God, for God, and deeply loved by God—regardless of what I do or what’s been done to me.

How to Start Releasing Shame

If you’ve been carrying shame for years—maybe decades—releasing it won’t happen overnight. But it will happen. Here’s how to start:

1. Name It When You Notice It

Shame operates in the shadows. The simple act of naming it brings it into the light.

When you notice that familiar feeling—the tightness in your chest, the urge to hide, the internal voice saying you’re bad or wrong—pause and say (out loud or in your head):

“That’s shame talking.”

This creates distance between you and the shame. It reminds you that shame is something you’re experiencing, not something you are.

2. Question the Story Shame Is Telling

Shame speaks in absolutes:

• “You’re disgusting.”
• “No one would love you if they knew.”
• “You’ll never be normal.”

When you notice these thoughts, ask:

• “Is this actually true, or is this shame talking?”
• “Would I say this to someone I love who went through the same thing?”
• “What would I tell my younger self if I could go back?”

Often, the compassion you can extend to others is the same compassion you deserve to give yourself.

I also ask: “Is this what God says about me, or is this what shame says?” Because those two voices sound very different. God’s voice brings conviction when needed, but never condemnation. Shame only condemns.

3. Practice the Hand-on-Heart Exercise

This is one of the most powerful tools from my book Healing What Hides in the Shadows, and it’s backed by research on self-compassion and nervous system regulation.

Take a moment right now. Put your hand on your heart—feel the warmth of your own touch, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

And say out loud or silently:

“The shame I feel is not who I am. I am worthy of love and respect, exactly as I am.”

For those with faith, you might add: “God made me, knows me, and loves me—shame doesn’t get to define me.”

This isn’t just a nice thought. This is your nervous system learning that you are safe, that you are not the threat, that you can be your own source of comfort.

Do this daily. Do it when shame feels overwhelming. Do it until your body starts to believe it.

4. Share Your Shame With a Safe Person

Remember: shame needs secrecy to survive. Speaking about it—even just saying “I’m struggling with shame today”—begins to break its power.

You don’t have to tell your whole story. You don’t have to share details. But finding even one person who can hear “I carry a lot of shame” and respond with compassion changes everything.

If you’re not ready to speak to another person, write it down. Journal about it. Name the specific shame beliefs you carry and then write what you would say to a friend who believed those same lies.

Or bring it to God in prayer. He already knows. But speaking it out loud—admitting “I feel ashamed”—invites His compassion into that wounded place.

5. Reconnect With Your Body

Shame makes us want to disconnect from our bodies—especially if the trauma was sexual. But your body is not the enemy. Your body is where healing happens.

God designed your body to heal, to release what’s trapped, to return to safety. Honoring that design through gentle movement helps shame leave your body, not just your mind.

Gentle movement, breathwork, and somatic practices help release shame that’s stored physically. This might look like:

• Gentle stretching or yoga
• Walking in nature
• Dancing alone in your room
• Deep breathing exercises
• Progressive muscle relaxation

These practices help your nervous system move out of the shame-induced collapse state and into a state of safety and connection.

The Neuroscience of Worth

Here’s something that might surprise you: Your brain doesn’t naturally generate shame.

Newborn babies don’t feel shame. Toddlers don’t experience it. Shame is learned—usually through experiences where we were made to feel that something fundamental about us is wrong or bad.

But that means shame can also be unlearned.

Neuroscientist Dr. Rick Hanson talks about “experience-dependent neuroplasticity”—the brain’s ability to rewire itself based on repeated experiences. Every time you practice self-compassion, every time you counter shame with truth, every time you choose kindness over criticism, you’re literally building new neural pathways.

The Bible calls this “renewing your mind” (Romans 12:2). Neuroscience calls it neuroplasticity. Either way, the truth is the same: your brain can change. Your thoughts can be transformed. The lies can be replaced with truth.

Your brain is learning: “I am safe. I am worthy. I am enough.”

This isn’t positive thinking. This is brain change. This is partnering with how God designed your nervous system to heal.

And research shows it works. Studies on trauma survivors who practice self-compassion show:

• Reduced symptoms of PTSD
• Lower levels of depression and anxiety
• Improved relationships
• Greater resilience
• Increased sense of self-worth

You are not rewiring your brain to believe a lie. You’re rewiring it to recognize a truth that trauma tried to hide from you.

What If I Can’t Believe It Yet?

If you read all of this and still think, “That might be true for other people, but not for me”—I get it. I’ve been there.

You don’t have to believe it fully right now. You just have to be willing to consider the possibility that it might be true.

Start here:

“What if the shame I feel isn’t the truth about who I am? What if it’s just something that happened to me, not something that defines me?”

You don’t have to have the answer. You just have to hold the question.

And then keep showing up for yourself. Keep practicing the hand-on-heart exercise even when it feels awkward. Keep naming shame when you notice it. Keep reaching for compassion even when criticism feels more familiar.

Because here’s what I’ve learned both personally and professionally: healing doesn’t require you to believe you’re worthy before you start. Healing is what teaches you that you were worthy all along.

God has been waiting to show you what He’s always known: you are His, you are loved, and you are worth fighting for.

The Truth Shame Never Wanted You to Discover

Shame has been lying to you for so long, you might have forgotten what the truth actually sounds like.

So let me remind you:

You are not what happened to you.

You are not the trauma. You are not the abuse. You are not the worst thing that was ever done to you.

You are the person who survived.
You are the person brave enough to seek healing.
You are the person reading these words right now because some part of you—maybe buried deep, maybe barely audible—still believes that healing is possible.

That part of you is right.

The shame you carry was never yours. It was placed on you by someone who hurt you, reinforced by a brain trying to make sense of the incomprehensible, and sustained by a culture that doesn’t know how to talk about trauma.

But it doesn’t belong to you.

And you don’t have to carry it anymore.

From a faith perspective, here’s what I hold onto: When shame whispers “You’re dirty,” God says “I’ve washed you clean” (1 Corinthians 6:11). When shame says “You’re worthless,” God says “You’re worth the life of My Son” (Romans 5:8). When shame tells you “You’re too broken to fix,” God says “I’m making all things new” (Revelation 21:5).

This doesn’t bypass the pain. It doesn’t minimize the trauma. It doesn’t mean healing is instant or easy.

But it does mean this: the God who created you knows your worth, even when shame tries to convince you otherwise.

Your Next Steps

Releasing shame is a process, not a one-time event. But every step you take matters.

Today:

• Practice the hand-on-heart exercise
• Write down one shame belief and counter it with truth
• Reach out to one safe person (or to God in prayer)

This week:

• Notice when shame shows up and name it
• Practice self-compassion when shame feels overwhelming
• Consider reading Healing What Hides in the Shadows for deeper tools and exercises

This month:

• Find a trauma-informed therapist or coach
• Join a support group for survivors
• Commit to treating yourself with the same kindness you’d show someone you love

You deserve to live free from shame. Not because you’ve earned it or proven yourself, but because you exist. Because you were made with purpose, by a God who doesn’t make mistakes, who sees you fully and loves you completely.

That’s not just a nice thought.

That’s the truth shame never wanted you to discover.

If you’re ready to dive deeper into healing from trauma and releasing shame, my book “Healing What Hides in the Shadows” offers 30 chapters of practical tools, body-based exercises, and trauma-informed guidance for your private healing journey. Learn more at HealingWhatHidesInTheShadows.com

For personalized support in your healing journey, visit CoachAgenna.com to learn about trauma-informed coaching services.

 

For over a decade as a life and mindset coach, I’ve sat across from countless clients who apologized for being “too sensitive,” wondered why they couldn’t “just get over” their anxiety, or believed their struggles were simply part of their personality. What broke my heart wasn’t just their struggle—it was how many had no idea they were carrying the invisible weight of trauma.

Over time, I began noticing patterns. The millennial executive who couldn’t set boundaries without feeling guilty. The Gen Z college student who dissociated during stressful conversations. The young parent who felt disconnected from their own body. They all shared something in common: childhood experiences that had never been named, processed, or understood as trauma.

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When Research Becomes Personal

I’ve always drawn wisdom from the books I read, but “The Body Keeps the Score” hit different. Dr. van der Kolk’s groundbreaking work on how trauma lives in the body provided the missing pieces I’d been searching for in my coaching practice—and in my own life. Suddenly, the research made sense of what I was seeing in my clients and what I had experienced myself.

As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I understood the confusion my clients felt. For years, I thought my memory gaps, low self-worth, and overwhelming shame were just “who I was.” It wasn’t until I began studying trauma research that I realized these weren’t character flaws—they were my mind and body’s way of protecting me from overwhelming experiences that I couldn’t process at the time.

My fascination with neuroplasticity and brain development through various courses I’ve taken has shown me that what the brain learns, it can also unlearn. The same neural pathways that created survival responses can be gently rewired for healing.

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The Silent Epidemic

The statistics are staggering, but they don’t capture the human reality: one in three girls and one in six boys experience sexual abuse before age 18. Yet many of these survivors, now adults, have never connected their current struggles to their past experiences. They live with anxiety, depression, relationship difficulties, and a deep sense that something is fundamentally wrong with them—never realizing they’re dealing with unprocessed trauma.

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The Privacy Paradox

As both a coach and a survivor, I recognized a critical gap in the healing resources available. Most trauma recovery books and programs assume you’re ready to talk about what happened. They encourage you to “share your story,” join support groups, or process your experiences with a therapist.

But here’s what I know from my own journey and from working with survivors: many people aren’t ready to tell their story. And they shouldn’t have to.

Some survivors don’t have safe people to tell. Others aren’t ready to put words to experiences that still feel too overwhelming. Some have told their story and been dismissed, blamed, or retraumatized by the response. And many simply need privacy—a chance to heal on their own terms, in their own time, without the pressure to perform their trauma for others.

The question that drove me to write this book was: Can you heal from sexual trauma without having to tell anyone what happened?

The answer is yes. And that’s what this book is about.

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Tools for Private Healing

Over the years, I began compiling exercises and approaches that honored the need for privacy while still facilitating real healing. Body-based practices that help regulate the nervous system. Writing exercises that process trauma without requiring disclosure. Mindfulness techniques adapted specifically for traumatized nervous systems.

These weren’t just theoretical exercises—they were tools I used in my own healing and that I watched transform my clients’ lives. I saw people who thought they’d never feel safe in their bodies again learn to breathe deeply. I witnessed survivors who believed they were “broken” discover their resilience. I watched as people reconnected with parts of themselves they thought were lost forever.

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When the Words Just Flowed

I didn’t plan to write this book. It wasn’t on my calendar or part of some strategic business plan. One day, I simply sat down and started writing—and the words just flowed.

But here’s what I know to be true: those weren’t my words. God provided every single one. I was simply being obedient, showing up at my keyboard, and allowing Him to work through me. This book is His story of redemption, written through my fingers. I get to be the vessel, but He gets all the credit for the healing message within these pages.

I’ve always been fascinated by neuroplasticity and how the brain develops and heals. The courses I’ve taken on brain science, combined with my own healing journey and years of coaching survivors, all came together in those writing sessions—but not by my design. It felt less like I was creating something and more like I was uncovering what God had already prepared, like He’d been storing up these words inside me, waiting for the right moment to pour them out.

There were days I sat down not knowing what to write, and the words came anyway. There were chapters I didn’t think I was qualified to write, and God provided the wisdom. This wasn’t my strength or my expertise alone—it was divine inspiration meeting human obedience.

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Conversations That Changed Everything

I have three daughters, and over the years, we’ve had open and ongoing conversations about bodies, boundaries, safety, and healing. Those conversations shaped not just how I parent, but how I think about trauma recovery. They reminded me that healing doesn’t have to happen in silence and shame—but it also doesn’t have to happen on anyone else’s timeline or terms.

Recently, I was talking to a friend I’ve known for almost 50 years. As I shared about the book and my own journey, she said something that stopped me in my tracks: “How is it that I’ve known you for almost five decades and I had no idea?”

That moment crystallized why this book matters. Because even people who love us, who’ve been in our lives for years, often have no idea what we’re carrying. Not because they don’t care, but because we’ve learned to hide it so well. We’ve become experts at appearing fine while everything inside us is still fighting to survive.

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You Don’t Have to Choose Between Healing and Privacy

“Healing What Hides in the Shadows” was born from this realization: you can heal without having to tell your story. Your body knows what happened. Your nervous system remembers. And with the right tools, you can release what’s been trapped without ever having to speak it aloud.

This book is my love letter to every survivor who thought they were “just anxious,” every client who apologized for their sensitivity, and every person who has been told to “get over it” when their body was still trying to protect them from dangers that no longer exist.

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Hope in the Shadows

The shadows don’t have to define you, but they do hold valuable information. They’re not just places of pain—they’re also where your greatest strengths were forged.

Healing isn’t about eliminating your survival responses—it’s about updating them, honoring what they’ve done for you, and gently teaching your nervous system that you’re safe now.

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself, know that you’re not broken. You’re not too sensitive. You’re not making too big a deal of something that happened “so long ago.” You’re a survivor whose body has been trying to protect you, and now it’s time to help your body learn that the danger has passed.

Your healing matters. Your story matters. You matter.

And most importantly—you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.

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