It's amazing what the mind and body hold on to.

All clients come to therapy because they are suffering in some way. All clients have some level of unresolved trauma. Whether it stems from something overt and life-altering, or from experiences that are quieter and less obviously significant, no one moves through life completely untouched. Sometimes we believe we are 'over' something, only to notice that we are still holding on - in our bodies, our relationships, our patterns of thought.

Trauma doesn't always announce itself loudly. It doesn't always look like flashbacks or panic attacks. Often, it shows up in subtler ways: a tightness in the chest that appears without warning, a tendency to scan for what might go wrong, difficulty trusting moments of ease, or a persistent feeling that something is not quite safe even when nothing is obviously wrong.

One of the most misunderstood aspects of trauma is that it is not defined solely by what happened, but by what the nervous system learned in response. Two people can experience the same event and carry it very differently. Trauma occurs when an experience overwhelms our capacity to cope at the time - when we are left alone with fear, shame, or helplessness, without sufficient support or protection. The body remembers this, even when the mind believes it has moved on.

This is why insight alone is often not enough. Many people arrive in therapy saying, “I know why I’m like this,” yet still feel trapped in the same reactions. Trauma lives beneath language. It is stored in muscle tension, breathing patterns, vigilance, and withdrawal. Healing, therefore, is not just about understanding the past, but about gently teaching the body that the present is different.

Another overlooked truth is that many trauma responses are not rooted in fear alone, but in dignity. The ways people adapt - staying hyper-alert, controlling outcomes, avoiding closeness, intellectualising emotion,  often develop to protect against humiliation, exposure, or powerlessness. These strategies once served a purpose. They helped someone survive socially, emotionally, or psychologically. Letting go of them can feel less like relief and more like stepping into danger again.

In therapy, this means that resistance is rarely resistance to healing. More often, it is loyalty to what once kept someone intact. When a therapist approaches these patterns with curiosity and respect, rather than trying to dismantle them too quickly, something important happens: the client feels seen rather than corrected. Safety begins there.

Anxiety is one of the most common ways unresolved trauma continues to show itself. Many people arrive in therapy describing anxiety without always linking it to past experiences - a constant sense of unease, racing thoughts, health worries, or a feeling that something bad is about to happen. From a trauma-informed perspective, anxiety is not a malfunction but a signal: the nervous system is still orienting towards danger, even when the original threat has passed.

Healing from trauma is rarely dramatic. It often looks like small, almost unremarkable shifts: noticing the breath slow down in the presence of another person; allowing a good experience to remain good without immediately searching for what went wrong; recognising that a familiar anxious thought is about the past, not the present. Over time, these moments accumulate. The nervous system learns that it does not have to work so hard.

Perhaps one of the most compassionate reframes therapy offers is this: nothing is “wrong” with you for still carrying what you carry. The mind and body held on because they had to. Therapy is not about forcing release, but about creating enough safety, relationship, and understanding that holding on is no longer necessary.

And sometimes, simply realising that we are still holding something, without judging ourselves for it, is the beginning of change.

As a therapist in Brighton and Hove, my work with trauma and anxiety focuses on creating a space where these patterns can be met with curiosity, compassion, and respect, rather than urgency or pressure to change.