I studied trauma on a doctoral level. One could say that for three years I ate trauma for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Probing deeply into the nervous system changes that take place when humans suffer intense distress, I absorbed valuable insight for myself and those I love. But toward the end of my studies, I started to sense that both the academic literature and the media, in warning of the negative effects of trauma, gave a very despairing message regarding it. A summary would read something like this:
“When you were vulnerable, you suffered a devastating blow or blows to your dignity and safety. You have been permanently altered by this. Your body keeps the score. You’ll have to manage your weakened state through safe spaces and trigger avoidance or be continually flooded with reminders of what you’d like to forget and suffer unrelenting anxiety, stress and sadness.”
In other words, sources from textbooks to social media influencers were saying that trauma wrecks a person. I didn’t—and don’t—believe this. I also noticed that the biblical champions of faith rejoiced under persecution. Nothing is more traumatic than being hunted like an animal for one’s faith, under the hovering cloud of social condemnation.
I felt that trauma, while distressing in the short run, had ultimately made me and others more effective, strong and resilient. I began to wonder if any scientific studies corroborated my experience. And that’s when I met Tedeschi and Calhoun.
Psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence G Calhoun pioneered the concept of post-traumatic growth (PTG) in the 1990s. PTG holds that people who endure internal difficulty following adversity can often see positive growth afterward in the form of phenomena such as improved relationships, deeper appreciation of life, spiritual renewal, renewed purpose and character strength. In other words, they found that really bad experiences can make us better, deeper and happier people.
Of course, trauma doesn’t always help us. For some, it does seem to have a ruinous effect. For this reason, Tedeschi and Calhoun asked what traits encouraged PTG. They identified several.
what’s sharable is bearable
Having a family or community to care for us when we’re broken makes a world of difference. I watched a loved one thrive in spite of a nearly fatal car accident. His family had supported him in love, nursing him through the recovery process. He never developed PTSD. Auto accident survivors without social support don’t fare as well.
the Velcro effect
Connected to social support is something called “emotional disclosure”. This, simply put, is the ability to express emotions in the presence of another person. Sharing what’s happening inside us results in what I call the “Velcro effect” in which opening up about our emotions helps us better connect to others. The comforting presence of another as we release pent-up distress can be a healing, penetrating balm to the soul.
knowing a loving God
Tedeschi and Calhoun also found that spirituality can help process trauma. Because traumatic events confront us with our mortality, many a survivor can trace a belief in God to the earth-shattering moment they needed Him as never before. But the way we see God matters much. Stanford professor TM Luhrmann has observed that when people see God as good, it makes them healthier.
“When God was experienced as remote or not loving, the more someone prayed, the more psychiatric distress they seemed to have; when God was experienced as close and intimate, the more someone prayed, the less ill they were.”1
accepting what happened
Finally, PTGers have a little habit called “acceptance coping”, in which they accept what happened, while also seizing the opportunity to respond to it constructively.2 Even if we can never accept something like child abuse, we can accept the reality that it happened to us and ask ourselves how we can respond to it in the best possible way. The more we dwell on what we cannot change, the more disempowered we become. We can’t change past trauma—it sits like a 10-tonne weight on our timeline. Telling ourselves a million times that it never should have happened will not move the reality of it one inch. But accepting it and working around it? That gives us back our lost power.
Imagine what our families and communities could be if we were more trauma-informed—striking that delicate balance between empathising with people in their pain and encouraging them onward and upward.
What if we normalised tears shed in our presence, sitting with people in their distress instead of trying to shut it down?
What if we reminded each other that growth and healing are possible?
What if we trusted in a God who promised to one day dry every tear?
We could all become agents who foster post-traumatic growth in a world of pain.
- Tanya Luhrmann, “The Benefits of Church,” The New York Times, April 20, 2013. ↩︎
- https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2011-13405-001 ↩︎
