In my last post, I shared six reasons why many people struggle to see themselves in the historically understood definition of “childhood trauma.”
Those reasons boiled down to the limitations of historical definitions, causing people to discount their trauma because of the subtlety of certain experiences, because their mother was the abuser, because the abusers may not have been guardians/parents, because they viewed the privilege they had also experienced as some kind of neutralizer, because they experienced gaslighting about their experiences, and because they had preconceived notions about what “counted” as abuse or trauma.
There are many reasons why people struggle to see themselves inside the definition of “childhood trauma,” and all of those reasons are what led me to use the term “relational trauma” very often in my work.
In today’s post, I want to share my definition of childhood trauma with you along with some amalgam vignettes that reflect experiences captured by this definition in the hope that you may see the subtly of your own experiences more clearly.
My definition of relational trauma
Over time, in response to what I experienced as limitations in how we have historically and collectively come to understand childhood trauma, I created a definition that, to me, felt more expansive:
“Relational trauma is the kind of trauma that results over the course of time in the context of a power-imbalanced and dysfunctional relationship (usually between a child and caregiver but also between a child/adolescent and systems/communities) that results in a host of complex and lingering biopsychosocial impacts for the individual who subjectively endured the trauma and was overwhelmed by the experience.” —Annie Wright, LMFT
Honestly, one of the biggest pieces of feedback I receive about this definition and what I put out online is:
“Ah, finally, there’s a name for what I went through…”
I’m not here to say this is the only or ultimate definition of relational trauma. But I do say that when we use a more expansive definition of trauma—one that includes subjectivity at its core and more nuance in the how and why—we can help clients see themselves and their lived experience more clearly and, quite frankly, feel more validated.
What are some examples of relational trauma?
Beyond a more expansive definition, something that can help so many of us from relational trauma backgrounds feel seen, validated, and normalized is seeing and hearing stories that reflect aspects of our own lived experience.
These vignettes I’m about to share are amalgam vignettes (meaning mixed, blended stories) from hundreds of clients I’ve worked with over 13 years.
These vignettes reflect situations and experiences that can lead to relational trauma depending on how they were subjectively experienced by the individual.
[Note: These vignettes might feel triggering. Please stop reading them if you feel triggered or notice uncomfortable feelings coming up in your body that you’d prefer not to feel.]
Examples of potential relational trauma experiences:
- A father constantly criticizes his teenage daughter’s appearance, comparing her to her friends and celebrities, telling her she needs to lose weight or dress differently to be accepted and loved by others, and telling her it’s “just for her own good.”
- An older, much stronger and bigger brother constantly bullies his younger, smaller sister, calling her names, hitting her, and hiding her belongings while the parents dismiss it as normal sibling behavior and do nothing to intervene.
- A mother micromanages every aspect of her son’s life, from homework to friendships, tells him he will fail if he doesn’t follow her instructions exactly or if he doesn’t spend time with “worthwhile people.” All of this erodes his ability to choose freely, but she claims she’s just being a responsible parent, trying to get him into the Ivy League and into the “right” social crowd.
- A church shames and ostracizes a child for questioning promulgated beliefs or behaviors, labeling the child as a sinner or damned while the parents support the church’s actions and refuse to protect their child, claiming “it’s for their own good; this is what Jesus wants.”
- A father consistently undermines his son’s confidence by mocking his interests and achievements and any hint of effeminacy the son displays, telling him that he will never amount to anything. He justifies his actions by saying he’s preparing his son for the “real world” and that only “real men” can make it in life.
- Boarding school teachers physically and emotionally abuse a student, using excessive discipline, humiliation, and isolation while the parents dismiss their child’s complaints as exaggerations and insist they continue to suffer for the sake of education.
- Parents impose unrealistic expectations on their children, demanding perfection in academics, sports, and behavior. Any mistake or failure is met with severe criticism, emotional withdrawal, and sometimes physical punishment, such as being hit with a wooden spoon.
- A sibling incites fear in their younger brother by frequently threatening harm or abandonment, using intimidation to control and manipulate while parents see the older sibling as just being strict or protective.
- A mother constantly invades her teenage son’s privacy, reading his journal, going through his phone, and questioning his friends, all under the guise of protecting him, but in reality undermining his sense of autonomy as well as his feelings of trust, and safety with her.
Each of these vignettes illustrates examples of dysfunctional power-imbalanced relationships where the behavior of those with more power may lead to the child/adolescent subjectively feeling overwhelmed and unable to cope.
Each of these vignettes has the potential to be a relational trauma experience with a lingering host of biopsychosocial impacts for the person who endured the trauma.
In my next post, I will address why and how relational trauma and its biopsychosocial impacts can be so detrimental. But for now, I hope this definition of relational trauma helps you discover whether the term more adequately describes what you’ve lived through. Perhaps you’ve even seen aspects of your own story mirrored back in the vignettes I shared.
