Healing from Collective Trauma in the Wake of Charlie Kirk’s Death

The death of Charlie Kirk, like so many other acts of violence in recent decades, has left many people grappling with difficult emotions. Even if we were not present, the constant replay of images, headlines, and arguments online can leave us shaken. For some, this has brought grief or fear. For others, anger, numbness, or even a conflicted sense of justice. These varied responses are part of the collective trauma we carry as a society when violence erupts in public life. Healing begins when we acknowledge both the pain and the division, and start to imagine ways to bridge the gap between us.

Why Collective Trauma Matters

Violence affects more than the immediate victims or witnesses. It ripples outward into families, communities, and even the nation as a whole. Each time such an event occurs, old wounds are reopened, from school shootings, to political violence, to everyday tragedies that remind us of our fragility.

Our nervous systems are not built to repeatedly absorb violent images, yet social media and news outlets expose us to these moments over and over. This can create a sense of hopelessness, division, and fatigue.

Holding Complex Reactions

Not everyone responds in the same way. Some feel grief and despair. Others feel anger or rage. Still others feel indifference or even a sense of justice. These differences can make it harder to come together, but they also remind us that trauma is complex. There is no single “right” way to react when confronted with violence.

Steps Toward Healing Together

• Limit your exposure: Take breaks from constant media updates and arguments online.

• Name your experience: Recognize what emotions are most present for you, such as grief, anger, fear, or numbness.

• Lean into connection: Healing collective trauma requires community. Find spaces where listening and compassion are possible.

• Ground yourself in hope: Division may feel overwhelming, but small acts of kindness and understanding still create change.

Collective trauma does not disappear quickly. Even as news cycles shift, the emotions we carry remain real. Healing will take time and requires us to resist becoming numb. By choosing connection, compassion, and reflection, we begin to soften the divisions and remember our shared humanity.

When Violence Finds Us Through Screens: Healing from Secondary Trauma

In our current world, many of us experience trauma not only by being physically present at a violent event, but also through what we see, hear, and read in its aftermath. The recent news and circulating images of Charlie Kirk’s death are a reminder of this reality. Even if we weren’t there in person, witnessing violence through screens can leave us shaken, fearful, and heavy with emotion.

For some, these moments evoke sadness and grief. For others, they stir anger, numbness, or even a conflicted sense of justice. And for many, the constant stream of arguments and posts on social media can intensify the pain. Our responses are human, and they reflect how overwhelming it can be to hold so many perspectives and emotions at once.

Why We Feel It So Deeply

Our brains and bodies don’t always distinguish between what we see firsthand and what we experience indirectly. Images of violence, especially when they are replayed across news outlets and social feeds, can trigger the same fight, flight, or freeze responses as if we had been there. This is sometimes called secondary trauma or vicarious trauma. It can leave us feeling unsafe in our communities, disconnected from others, or worn down by the intensity of public discourse.

The Added Weight of Social Media

Social media often amplifies trauma. Instead of giving us space to grieve, it can:

• Flood us with repeated images and headlines we can’t unsee

• Expose us to polarized arguments that dismiss or attack our feelings

• Pressure us to “take a side” when our inner world may be more complex

• Create a cycle of outrage and exhaustion that leaves us feeling powerless

The very place many of us go for connection can sometimes increase our sense of isolation.

Signs You May Be Carrying This Trauma

• Heightened vigilance or fear in everyday life

• Intrusive thoughts or images of what you saw online

• Emotional numbness when new tragedies appear

• Anger or irritability that spills into daily interactions

• Feeling overwhelmed by the arguments and hostility on social platforms

If you recognize yourself in these experiences, you are not alone.

Steps Toward Healing

• Set boundaries online: Limit your exposure to distressing posts and arguments. Curate your feed so it serves your well-being.

• Name your feelings: Whether it’s grief, anger, fear, or indifference, acknowledging your reactions is part of healing.

• Seek safe spaces: Connect with people who can listen without judgment, whether friends, family, or a therapist.

• Ground your body: Small practices like breathing exercises, walking, journaling can calm your nervous system.

• Balance with hope: Look for signs of care, resilience, and humanity, even in small ways. These reminders can soften the weight of despair.

Remembering Our Shared Humanity

Each time tragedy strikes, we are faced with both the pain of division and the reminder of how deeply interconnected we are. Social media may amplify our fractures, but it can also become a place to share compassion and solidarity. Healing begins when we recognize the impact these images and arguments have on us, and when we choose to respond with care to ourselves and for one another.

Moving Beyond Survival: The Journey of Trauma Recovery

Trauma changes how we see ourselves, others, and the world. Whether it comes from a single event or a long history of pain, trauma leaves invisible wounds that often surface as anxiety, depression, relationship struggles, or feeling disconnected from life. But healing is possible.

Safety Comes First

Recovery begins by building a sense of safety, both internally and externally. This might mean practicing grounding skills, surrounding yourself with supportive relationships, or finding a therapist who can offer a steady and nonjudgmental presence.

The Body Remembers

Trauma doesn’t just live in memory, it lives in the body. Flashbacks, hypervigilance, and emotional numbing are not signs of weakness but the body’s attempt to protect you. Approaches like EMDR and somatic therapies help release trauma where it is stored in the nervous system.

Reclaiming Your Story

Trauma often robs people of their voice and sense of agency. In therapy, you can begin to tell your story at your own pace, reframing it from one of helplessness to one of survival and resilience.

Building a Life Beyond Trauma

The ultimate goal of healing is not simply reducing symptoms but creating a life where joy, trust, and connection are possible again. It is about moving from surviving to truly living.

Final Thought

Trauma may have shaped your past, but it doesn’t have to define your future. With compassion, support, and the right tools, you can reclaim your sense of self and step into a life of hope and wholeness.

The Body Remembers: How Trauma Shows Up in Everyday Life

You may not think of yourself as a trauma survivor. Maybe you didn’t experience a major accident, war, or natural disaster. But trauma isn’t always a single catastrophic event, sometimes it’s chronic stress, a painful relationship, childhood neglect, or moments when you felt unsafe and alone.

What many people don’t realize is that trauma doesn’t just live in memory. It lives in the body. Long after the event has passed, the nervous system remembers. And those memories show up in everyday life in ways that can be confusing, frustrating, or overwhelming.

Everyday Signs of a Nervous System on Alert

Trauma activates the body’s survival system. When that system never fully resets, it can show up like this:

• Startle responses – jumping at sudden noises or movements

• Tightness in the chest or stomach – feeling “on edge” even in safe moments

• Trouble sleeping – difficulty falling asleep or waking up in the night

• Irritability or reactivity – snapping at loved ones without knowing why

• Difficulty concentrating – brain fog, forgetfulness, or zoning out

• Numbing out – disconnecting from emotions or avoiding situations that feel overwhelming

These symptoms aren’t signs of weakness. They’re signs that your body is still trying to protect you.

Why the Body Holds On

Unfortunately the past doesn’t just vanish, it often gets replayed. Early experiences shape how we view ourselves, others, and the world. When trauma happens, especially in relationships, the nervous system encodes “templates” for safety and danger.

This is why someone who grew up walking on eggshells around a volatile parent might still feel anxious when their partner raises a voice, even if no harm is present. The body says, “I know this. I’ve been here before. Protect.”

In EMDR and other trauma therapies, we work with this embodied memory directly. The goal isn’t just to talk about what happened, but to help the nervous system finally release what it’s been holding.

Healing: From Survival to Safety

The good news is that what is wired in can be rewired. Healing is about moving from survival mode into a sense of safety and connection. In therapy, that often means:

• Naming what the body is saying – learning to recognize triggers and body signals

• Reprocessing traumatic memories – with tools like EMDR to release the nervous system’s grip

• Rewriting relational patterns – practicing new ways of connecting that feel safe and secure

• Building self-compassion – shifting from “what’s wrong with me?” to “my body is trying to protect me.”

Over time, people notice that they’re less reactive, more grounded, and able to experience joy, intimacy, and calm without the constant background hum of hypervigilance.

A Note of Hope

If you see yourself in these descriptions, it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your body has been protecting you in the only way it knew how. Healing is possible. With the right support, the body can learn a new language, one of safety, freedom, and connection.

The body remembers, and it can also relearn.

Healing After Betrayal: What Couples Can Expect in Therapy

When betrayal enters a relationship, whether thats through an affair, secrecy, or a broken promise the impact is seismic. The relationship you thought you were in is gone, and both partners are left in the rubble, wondering if anything can be salvaged.

Yet affairs don’t just rupture a relationship, they also reveal. They reveal unmet needs, unspoken longings, and the fault lines that may have been invisible until now. This duality is painful, but it can also be the beginning of something new: a more honest, resilient, and connected relationship than the one that existed before.

The First Stage: Shock and Survival

The discovery of betrayal is often traumatic. The partner who was betrayed may feel grief, rage, disbelief, or shame. The partner who strayed may feel guilt, defensiveness, shame, or fear of losing everything.

In therapy, the first step is stabilization, making space for each partner to speak and to be heard, while protecting against further harm. This isn’t about forgiveness yet; it’s about emotional survival and grounding when the world feels turned upside down.

The Second Stage: Asking “Why?”

After the initial shock, couples often find themselves circling the same question: Why did this happen?

For the betrayed partner, “why” is about making sense of what feels senseless. For the partner who strayed, “why” is about exploring what the affair represented… passion, validation, freedom, escape, or a longing for a part of themselves that felt lost or cut off.

It is not about excusing betrayal or minimizing the pain it caused, its about making meaning. It’s about moving beyond the surface of the act to uncover the deeper story:

• What did the affair awaken in the partner who strayed?

• What longings or vulnerabilities were left unspoken in the relationship?

• What patterns of distance or disconnection may have quietly shaped the bond?

This process is rarely neat. It often brings forward uncomfortable truths, but it also creates the possibility of transformation. By making meaning, couples begin to understand not only what broke, but what might need to be rebuilt differently if the relationship is to move forward.

Answering “why” does not excuse the betrayal. Instead, it reframes the affair as more than a crime of lust or opportunity. It becomes a window into the dynamics of the relationship, as well as the inner world of each partner. Sometimes an affair isn’t about leaving the other person, but about leaving the version of oneself that felt trapped, unseen, or disconnected.

This deeper understanding is painful, and it’s also the beginning of transformation.

The Third Stage: Rebuilding Trust

Trust is not repaired with promises. It is rebuilt through consistent action over time.

In therapy, rebuilding trust often means:

• Radical transparency from the partner who betrayed trust

• Patience for questions, triggers, and painful emotions from the betrayed partner

• New agreements around communication, boundaries, and intimacy

It’s not about returning to “normal.” It’s about creating something sturdier and more intentional than what existed before.

The Fourth Stage: Creating a New Relationship

The paradox of betrayal is that, if couples are willing to do the work, it can be a catalyst for growth. Many couples who commit to the process of healing discover that their relationship becomes more alive, more connected, and more truthful.

This new relationship is built not on the illusion of safety, but on a deeper knowing of each other’s vulnerabilities and needs. Affairs may destroy the old marriage, and they can also give birth to a new one.

A Note of Hope

If you’re navigating betrayal right now, it may feel like nothing could be harder. That’s true, and yet it is also true that repair is possible. Couples therapy provides the structure, guidance, and safety to navigate this fragile terrain.

Betrayal may mark the end of what was, and it can also be the beginning of what’s next. With care, courage, and support, healing is possible. And for many, love can be rediscovered in deeper, more authentic ways than ever before.

Beyond Us and Them: Finding the Third in a Divided America

In the therapy room, one of the most challenging dynamics a couple can face is polarization. Each partner becomes entrenched in their perspective, convinced the other is wrong, or worse, that the other is dangerous. They stop seeing each other and start seeing symbols. Battles over dishes or discipline become proxies for deeper existential threats. It becomes you or me. Someone has to win. Someone has to lose. This is the “us vs. them” trap. And right now, America is caught in it too.

Whether it’s political parties, racial identities, gender dynamics, or social class, we are explicitly and implicitly being told to divide the world into opposing camps. You’re either for or against. Woke or asleep. Patriot or traitor. Citizen or stranger. There is no space for nuance, no room for complexity. No one gets to be uncertain, evolving, or contradictory. And in this binary, empathy dies.

But there are different ways to understand conflict than just binary. When a couple is gridlocked in an all blame and no curiosity split, what we look for is the third.

The third isn’t a person. It’s a space. A possibility. A perspective that arises between the two and because of the two. It’s the “us” that can hold both “me” and “you.” It is not compromise, but a transformative process of witnessing, imagining, and integrating. The third doesn’t mean agreement. It means recognition. It’s the space between, or in other words, a heart big enough to hold difference without annihilation.

In a marriage, cultivating the third means slowing down, asking questions, tolerating discomfort, and recognizing how each partner’s position might be protecting something deeply vulnerable. In a country, it might look like listening to someone’s story without needing to immediately agree or dismantle it. It might look like being curious about the fear underneath the rage, or naming the pain that gets masked by righteousness. Or even allowing yourself to see the humanity, or pieces of you, in the other.

The third is hard to hold when you’ve been hurt, threatened, or marginalized. It’s not about false equivalency or forced unity. It doesn’t mean we excuse harm or pretend everyone’s reality is the same. But it does mean we challenge ourselves to see more than caricatures. To resist the pull toward totalizing narratives that keep us locked in cycles of retaliation and dehumanization.

Right now, the U.S. is in a psychological splitting. And in that splitting, we lose not only each other, we also lose parts of ourselves. The third reminds us that we are more than this fight. That every “them” is a person with a story. That democracy, like a relationship, requires the capacity to hold competing truths without collapsing.

It’s not easy. The pull to simplify, to divide, to scapegoat, is seductive. Especially in times of fear. But if we want to build something different, we have to reclaim the third.

Not just tolerance. Not just opposition.

But the radical, difficult work of metallization and relational imagination.

That’s where healing begins.

The Ache to Be Alike: When the Threat of Differences Show Up in a Couple's Therapy Room

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, barely looking at each other.

He crossed his arms. She looked out the window.

I had asked a simple question, something about what made them feel safe with each other when things were good. She didn’t answer right away. He spoke first.

“I just want us to be on the same page, just like we used to be. We liked the same music, wanted the same things. Now everything’s a debate.”

She sighed. Not an eye-roll exactly, but the kind of sigh that carries years of trying to explain something that doesn’t translate.

“We weren’t the same,” she said quietly. “You just never noticed I was editing myself.”

That’s when I knew we weren’t just talking about conflict. We were brushing against something deeper… twinship.

He wasn’t trying to dominate her. In fact, he was tender in his own way, eager to repair, to fix, to understand. But underneath that urgency was a fear I could feel in the room. “If we’re different, maybe we’re not okay.”

And for her, that sameness he longed for didn’t feel like connection. It felt like annihilation.

Like being asked to disappear in order to stay loved.

In the language of self psychology, twinship lives in the ache to feel “like” someone else. Not similar in tastes or politics or morning routines, but in essence. In one’s emotional makeup. In what it means to be a person moving through this world.

When that need goes unmet in early life, we carry it with us. Some people try to recreate it in adult relationships. Not consciously, not manipulatively. But with a quiet desperation, “If you and I are the same, then I know I belong. Then I know I’m real.”

But when the other person starts to individuate, to assert difference, it stirs up something ancient. Panic. Threat.

Over time, he began to realize he wasn’t asking her to agree with him, he was asking her to make him feel safe.

And she began to see that underneath his need for sameness wasn’t entitlement, but vulnerability.

That shifted things.

He said one day, “I didn’t know that asking you to see things my way was really me asking, do you still see me at all?”

And she cried. Because she finally heard him, not as someone trying to control her, but as someone trying to not disappear.

This is what twinship does in couples, it whispers the lie that we have to be the same to be close. That if you are different from me, I might vanish.

And so often, that whisper is coming from an early wound, the child part of us that never quite felt mirrored, never quite felt like we belonged.

But in the therapy room, when we can name that fear, when a partner can say, “I don’t need you to be me, I just need to know you see me and you’re not leaving,” it creates room for a deeper kind of intimacy.

Not built on sameness, but on recognition. Recognition that different is not a threat. Different is simply different.

Now, they still don’t agree on everything. They still bump into difference. But something’s changed.

Less fear, more curiosity. Less performance, more presence. Less defensiveness, more openness.

And maybe that’s the gift of therapy, not to erase the differences between us, but to help us hold the differences in each of us, without feeling like we’re losing ourselves.

Because sometimes, the most healing thing in the world isn’t to be the same.

It’s to be seen as different, and loved anyway.

What is Trauma? Part 3 Healing

Healing isn’t about forcing yourself to remember, or to “move on,” or to “ignore it.” In fact, those attempts often keep the wound from healing. Your past traumatic experiences are something to tend to, to be with, to listen to.

There are parts of ourselves, our anger, grief, sadness, tenderness, even joy, that might get pushed down and out of awareness because at some point, those felt too dangerous or scary, or unsafe to express. Healing is about safely and authentically reconnecting to those parts of yourself that had to go into hiding. It’s about being seen by someone who can hold your story without judgement. Its about learning that you and your feelings aren’t bad or wrong even if you were once told otherwise.

Here are 5 ways you can begin to take steps toward healing.

1. Listening inward with curiosity, not judgement.

Instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?” Try asking “What happened to me?” or “What am I carrying?”

2. Notice your body’s language.

Trauma often lives in the body. You might start to notice:

When do I tense up, shut down, or feel numb?

What does safety feel like, and when/what/how do I feel like I lose it?

You don’t have to interpret everything. Just start noticing.

3. Find one safe relationship.

We heal from trauma in relationship not in isolation. If there is someone you trust, even just a little, try being a little more open with them about how you’re feeling.

4. Let go of any timelines.

Healing doesn’t move in a straight line. Some days will feel like progress, others will feel like taking a few steps backwards. Take a breath and trust that this is part of the process.

5. Remind yourself you deserve to heal.

Trauma isn’t about how bad the thing was. Its about how alone you felt. If it hurt, if it shaped you, if its still echoing inside you… IT MATTERS.

If something resonated with you while reading this, I want you to know, that part of you deserves care.

You don’t have to figure everything out at once. You don’t have to be ready to dive into the whole story. You just have to be willing to listen to the parts of you that have been hidden.

Sometimes healing begins not with a grand decision, but with a “I don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

If you ever feel ready, reaching out to someone like a therapist or a trusted person can be the beginning of not erasing your story but the weaving of a new one where all of you gets to exist.

How do I know if I have Trauma? Part 2 Signs of Trauma

Dr. Gabor Moté said it well, “Trauma is not just what happened to you. It’s what happened inside you as a result of what happened to you.”

Trauma doesn’t always shout, sometimes it whispers through our bodies, our emotions, and our relationships. And unlike a physical wound that can easily be seen, the psychological and emotional wounds we sustain can be harder to recognize, because our wounds often hide in the adaptations we made to survive.

How we adapted at a young age such as, shutting down, pleasing others, being acutely aware of other people’s emotions, highly skilled at reading body language, over working or achieving, etc, is how we stayed connected with others in order to survive.

So what are some of the more common signs of trauma?

• Feeling like you have to stay “on” all the time, even when you are exhausted.

• Finding yourself disconnected from others, from your own feelings, and even from your own body.

• Having difficulty trusting others, or feeling safe in relationships.

• Blaming yourself when things go wrong even when it’s not your fault. Or being perfectionistic.

• Being drawn to people or situations that hurt, with or without fully understanding why.

• Wanting closeness, but pulling away when you find you are getting close.

• Living with a deep, almost invisible loneliness, even when you are surrounded by others.

• Constantly feeling like you are not good enough, or lovable. Or feeling like you are too much for people.

• Having negative self talk.

• Carrying a shame based view of yourself, or deep sense that something is wrong with you.

If any of this resonates with you, it’s ok. It doesn’t mean you’re broken. It doesn’t mean you’re “making a big deal out of nothing.” It means you found creative ways to protect yourself.

And now, maybe, there is a part of you that is ready for something different.

Therapy: Is it worth it?

I remember one of the first times I went surfing during a big swell, the waves were suppose to be 7-9 feet with an occasional 11-foot wave. I decided I would go to one of my favorite local spots. As I made the mile trek across the warm sand, I was feeling both excited and anxious, because often those two go hand-in-hand. So many unknowns bouncing around in my head… Will I be able to paddle out in such large surf? Will I have enough energy to catch a wave if I do get out? What if I get held under, or pummeled by a huge wave? 

It reminded me of when I decided to see a therapist. There was an excitement to be able to work through some things, to grow, to heal. AND there were so many unknowns going into the first few sessions. Will this therapist understand me? Will they be able to help? Will I feel comfortable opening up to them? 

I started the long, 100-yard paddle to where the waves were breaking. About half way there my arms felt like noodles from diving under so many powerful waves. I was huffing and puffing, trying to catch my breath as I fought the rushing whitewater of every crashing wave. I felt like I was never going to make it to where the waves were forming. I found my self-talk saying, “just keep paddling. Don’t look back, just keep looking forward to where you want to go. You WILL get there.” With every stroke and breath these words became like a mantra or meditation for me. I knew if I looked back I would be discouraged at where I was and then I would have to fight the desire to give up.

In that moment, I realized this is like the process of therapy. It can be difficult, painful, and scary, with so many unknowns going into it. These are the moments that often bring the growth and healing. It’s not easy, AND that doesn’t mean its not good. 

As I got closer to the lineup, I could see the big dark bumps way out toward the horizon, which generally means set waves (waves that come in larger than the current waves) are coming. I kept my eyes on the set waves, and with each wave that came in I was barely able to dive under the wave before it crashed on me. There were 4 set waves that came through with one rogue wave. They are often called rogue waves because they are the biggest set waves, they seem to come out of no where, and will often take everyone out in its path. 

Life seems to throw rouge waves at us from time to time doesn’t it? Maybe everyday feels like you are being pummeled and pushed back. They feel like set backs, like all the work and progress we have done to move forward and find healing is lost. It can be so defeating. This is the process of deep growth. Often times we take a couple of steps forward and then get pushed back, and if we keep going and trust the process of therapy, over time, we will look back and see just how far we have come. 

After all the hard work of getting out to the line up, I finally caught one of those bigger waves. I will never forget the joy, and the feeling of riding a wave like that. It was worth every moment of the fight to get there.  Life can become joyful again. You will find healing. You will grow and really thrive in life. You are worth every moment of the fight to get there!