Root to Rise: Reclaiming Power After Trauma

“Just like the trees, we are meant to shed, root, and rise again.”(Also like trees, we’re allowed to be a bit knobbly, sway in the wind, and sometimes drop our leaves without warning.)

The Aftermath of FragmeThe Aftermath of Fragmentation

Trauma doesn’t just break our hearts—it scrambles our internal GPS. Suddenly, what felt like north feels like… sideways. It messes with our relationship to safety, trust, and our own sense of “I’ve got this.”

For many of us—especially those navigating CPTSD or layered emotional wounds—trauma doesn’t always arrive with a dramatic kaboom. It drips in slowly, like a leaky tap you didn’t know was ruining the floorboards. Quietly, it silences our voice, erodes our boundaries, and dims our glow.

In my own healing (unglamorous-but-transformative) journey, I’ve realised trauma isn’t something to be deleted like an annoying browser tab. It’s something to be integrated. The aim isn’t to be who we were before the storm—but to become who we are after: rooted, resilient, and perhaps even radiant… with a few glorious bark-scars.

Power Isn’t Loud—It’s Grounded

We often imagine reclaiming power like a movie montage: fists clenched, hair blowing in slow motion. But real power after trauma? It’s quieter. Gentler. It’s the sacred art of:

• Saying “no” and not writing a three-paragraph apology.

• Choosing a nap over a meeting (yes, revolutionary).

• Crying in the bath and ordering pizza afterwards.

• Laughing—loudly, awkwardly, gloriously—without checking who’s watching.

Reclaiming power isn’t a one-off Beyoncé moment. It’s a series of delicious, rebellious micro-movements:

• Saying yes only when you really mean it.

• Walking away without a dissertation.

• Crying without apologising for being “too much.”

• Laughing without permission, possibly snorting.

The Tools That Reconnect Us

As a consciousness coach and a neurodivergent woman in the great unmasking, I don’t pretend to have it all figured out (who does?). But I do lean into practices that help bring people—myself included—back into wholeness:

Body Awareness

You can’t “logic” your way out of trauma (believe me, I tried). It starts in the body. Breathwork, stretching, gentle movement—anything that says, “Hey body, you’re safe with me now.”

Voicework & Expression

Songwriting, oracle cards, scribbly journal entries—your voice matters. Even if it’s a shaky whisper or a doodle in the margins. Truth, once expressed, is already halfway healed.

Energetic Hygiene

Reiki, ritual, spiritual Febreze (aka energy clearing)—these aren’t just “woo”. They’re protective acts. Little love letters to your nervous system.

Community & Body Doubling

Healing doesn’t have to be a solo hike through the wilderness. Find your people. Your witness. Even if it’s just someone to sit on Zoom while you tackle your inbox and sip tea in silence.

Root, Then Rise

Before we bloom, we burrow. We nap. We binge-watch nature documentaries. We rest when the world says hustle. We listen inward. We forgive ourselves for the messiness, the slowness, the “is this healing or just me crying over a cat video?” moments.

There’s no gold star for speed. No trauma-healing Olympics (though if there were, we’d all deserve medals for showing up).

As you reclaim your power, let it be weird and wobbly and yours. Let it be soft. Let it be still. Let it be sparkly.

And when you’re ready to rise—do it with your own soundtrack, your own rhythm, and your own glorious, unapologetic shine. ✨