Writing about trauma is a significant topic, and while I'm not the first to tackle it, I certainly won’t be the last. Trauma is a common experience, and so is the anxiety that often accompanies the act of writing about it. This was evident during my Medium Day session, where over 90 participants engaged with the subject.

Before the session, I grappled with feelings of inadequacy, especially as a relatively new writer with only five articles published. To my surprise, many attendees were eager to hear my insights, and several shared their own narratives, transforming the session into a supportive dialogue that extended beyond the planned duration.

This article captures the collective wisdom shared during that time rather than simply summarizing my presentation. For further insights, feel free to watch the recording available on YouTube.

Why Write About Trauma? Writing about trauma can be a personal choice that varies from person to person. For those who feel inclined, here are three common motivations that emerged from the Medium Day writers:

We Write for Ourselves Writing can empower us to reclaim our narratives and restore a sense of control that trauma may have stripped away. It serves as a mechanism to process and understand our experiences. Sharing these writings publicly can enhance this healing process and help us release any lingering shame.

We Write for Fellow Survivors The accounts of other survivors are crucial to many of our healing journeys. Writing becomes a way to pass that support forward. By sharing our stories, we break down stigma and foster connections with others who have faced similar challenges, letting them know they are not alone.

We Write to Inspire Societal Change One participant, Jonathan, pointed out that unresolved trauma contributes to numerous societal issues. Many of us write with the hope of raising awareness and promoting understanding of trauma, aiming for a world that offers greater compassion to survivors and reduces the prevalence of trauma itself.

Regardless of your motivation, writing about trauma doesn't always have to be burdensome. While it can be challenging, there are ways to derive strength, joy, and healing from the process:

Pace Yourself Writing about trauma isn’t a task that can be easily scheduled. Some days, I can write for hours; other times, simply sitting at my desk feels daunting. For those living with ongoing PTSD symptoms, it's crucial to approach writing with patience and self-compassion.

Having spent years in bureaucratic environments, I initially tried to impose strict targets on myself—like publishing two articles monthly or achieving 100 followers by year-end. This pressure stifled my creativity. Eventually, I abandoned those metrics and instead prioritized how I felt about my writing, celebrating small victories like finalizing a title or jotting down new ideas. The consensus from my Medium Day peers was that writing about trauma often takes longer than anticipated, and each step forward is worthy of acknowledgment.

Despite this understanding, I still face challenges. After my Medium Day proposal was accepted, I felt ashamed of the time since my last article. I hastily composed a piece based on a previous social media post without considering my readiness to share those details, leading to a wave of self-doubt that nearly made me withdraw.

Never write about your trauma out of obligation. Only write when you feel ready and willing.

Always Decompress Engaging with your trauma can be emotionally taxing, regardless of your enjoyment of writing. Some days, I find myself dissociating while I write, while other writers have described feeling drained afterward. My remedy is to always decompress. As Donna mentioned in our session, this is especially crucial if you find yourself thinking, "I’m fine. I have no emotions about this material."

Trauma resides in both our bodies and minds. Bessel van der Kolk's "The Body Keeps the Score" delves into this concept, illustrating how unresolved trauma can lead to various physical issues. Personally, I’ve experienced chronic back pain as a result. Engaging in physical activity during decompression allows trapped emotions to flow and release, preventing negative energy from lingering throughout the day.

I initially resolved to take a walk after writing, a common suggestion for processing difficult emotions. However, living in London can make outdoor activities unpredictable, particularly when I’m feeling vulnerable. Instead, I’ve found simpler, indoor activities that work for me, like blasting a powerful song to sing and dance to, especially those with uplifting lyrics.

I also enjoy mindful movement practices like yoga or qi gong. Following a 20-minute online session can be refreshing, but even just five minutes of deep breathing and gentle movement can make a significant difference. Choose whatever activities help you unwind and rejuvenate. Suggestions from my Medium Day peers included gardening, drawing, showering, or enjoying nature videos.

Move your body. Distract your mind. Release and continue with your day.

Prepare for Naysayers When I informed my dad about my intention to write online about my trauma, he expressed concern due to the documented prevalence of online abuse against women. I reassured him that I had considered the risks and had a supportive network in place. However, once I began writing, I realized I needed to implement additional proactive measures.

First, I made a conscious effort regarding what I share and when. I avoid publishing anything that I’m still processing in therapy. While I aim to be authentic and open, I won’t share topics when I feel too raw to handle external scrutiny. I need to be in a stable emotional state to ensure negative comments won’t derail me.

You have the power to minimize naysayers to mere annoyances.

During Medium Day, several participants noted that backlash can also stem from friends and family. Sharing our stories may inadvertently breach the privacy of others. Some writers choose to use pseudonyms or alter names, while others, like Annelise, transform their trauma into fiction or poetry, thus maintaining anonymity. For me, sharing my experiences under my real name is vital for overcoming shame. Each approach holds validity; it’s a personal choice based on individual comfort levels and obligations to others.

My first negative comment came from a stranger doubting the truth of my story. Despite my preparations, it shook me. I impulsively typed a lengthy response and hit publish. In hindsight, I realize that I didn’t need to reply at all. A more measured response could have been beneficial. While responding to criticism isn’t wrong, there’s no obligation to engage. In fact, my second negative comment went unanswered, which I believe was a more powerful choice.

Since those initial criticisms, I’ve shifted my perspective. Instead of allowing negativity to breed self-doubt, I now see critical feedback as evidence of my influence. Negative comments indicate that I’m reaching beyond my comfort zone. While I may not change someone’s mind, the mere fact that they reacted suggests that my writing resonated with them. Perhaps it planted a seed for future reflection. And if not, at least I took the leap!

Regardless of reframing, negative comments can impact your mood. It’s crucial to acknowledge and process any pain they may cause. Similar to decompressing after writing, self-care following negative feedback is essential. After my first negative comment, I countered it by covering a piece of paper with affirming feedback I’d received. I now keep it above my desk for moments when I need a reminder.

You have the power to reduce those naysayers to little more than nuisances. Reaffirm your reasons for writing and ground yourself in that purpose.

Together We Are Powerful In the six months since I began writing on Medium, I’ve made mistakes and learned swiftly. Connecting with fellow writers during Medium Day has fueled my desire to continue writing and reinforced my commitment to strategies for maintaining my mental well-being.

There’s immense strength in sharing your trauma narrative, but many of us require encouragement and support to take that step. I encourage you to watch the full recording of my session on YouTube to hear from the remarkable writers who participated. Additionally, feel free to share your own advice or experiences in the comments.

Writing about your trauma demands courage, but I genuinely believe it’s a worthwhile endeavor. By doing so, we initiate change—both for ourselves and for other survivors, as well as for society at large. This change may be gradual and nonlinear, much like any healing journey, but it is occurring—one powerful story at a time.

References: ¹ Acknowledgment to some survivor resources that have supported me over the past two years: ‘Finding Ok’ with Hecate, ‘Healing Honestly’ with Alisa Zipursky, ‘Trauma Queen’ with Jiminekia Eborn.

² My current go-to song for decompressing is ‘Jericho’ by Iniko, which makes it hard not to feel empowered belting out its chorus: ‘When I move it’s an earthquake rumble, I will never ever fall never stumble, and I don’t need to be humble, break down walls like Jericho crumble.’

³ I’ve also drawn inspiration from the book ‘Writing Hard Stories,’ a beautiful read recommended by a Medium Day attendee named Colice, where Melanie Brooks interviews numerous successful memoirists about the challenges and rewards of writing about the most difficult moments in life.