When I first began my own recovery from childhood trauma, one truth hit me harder than anything else — if I wanted to heal, I had to develop self-awareness.
But becoming aware is not the soft, floaty thing Instagram quotes make it out to be. Awareness meant looking at some very uncomfortable truths about myself: the way I reacted to people, the relationships I stayed in, and the patterns I clung to because of what I’d been through.
I could face painful experiences from my past, but forgiving and accepting myself? That was a mountain I didn’t yet know how to climb.
Once I realised how much my past trauma shaped my current life, I went straight into self-blame. I saw how I’d people-pleased for validation, stayed in toxic relationships because deep down I didn’t feel lovable, and repeated dynamics that hurt me. My inner critic wasted no time — judgement, guilt, and shame became my go-to.
As Bessel van der Kolk says in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma isn’t simply left behind. The body and brain can reactivate old fear and survival patterns long after the danger has passed. This can leave survivors feeling “damaged to the core and beyond redemption.”
And this is where many people — including the clients I now work with — get stuck. We confuse self-awareness with self-criticism, and that judgement blocks the very healing we’re longing for.
The Turning Point: Responsibility Without Self-Blame
One of the most transformative shifts in my own recovery came when I stopped taking responsibility for what happened to me and started taking responsibility for my recovery.
That doesn’t happen overnight. It took me years of inner work, safe conversations, and trial-and-error self-care before I could genuinely move towards self-acceptance.
I remember being very young and realising — without anyone telling me — that if I could make the adults laugh, the tension in the room would melt just enough for me to feel safe.
It became my secret skill. If I sensed an argument brewing or someone’s mood turning sharp, I’d crack a joke, pull a silly face, or tell a funny story. And for a moment, everyone would laugh, the danger would pass, and I could breathe again.
On the outside, I was “the funny one” in my family — the one who kept the mood light, who always seemed cheerful. Inside, I was a little girl carefully scanning the emotional weather, doing everything I could to avoid the storms.
That pattern followed me into adulthood. People loved having me at parties because I’d make everyone laugh, lift the mood, and keep things light. But looking back, I see that many of those people weren’t real friends — they wanted my energy, my humour, the way I could make them feel good, but they weren’t there for me when I needed support.
Humour had once been a survival tool, but in my adult life, it became a mask. I was hiding my anxiety, sadness, and loneliness behind the punchlines. I had learned to perform connection rather than risk showing my true, more vulnerable self — because deep down, I still feared that if I stopped being “the funny one,” I might no longer be wanted at all.
It took daily forgiveness practices, journaling, and deep therapeutic work to see that my reactions weren’t proof I was broken — they were proof I was still surviving the only way I knew how.
The Three Shifts That Changed My Healing
Over time, both through my own journey and through supporting clients, I’ve seen three key shifts that help release self-judgement and open the door to healing.
1. Speaking the Truth in Safe Spaces
Early in my healing, I had to find the courage to speak out — not to everyone, but to people who had truly earned the right to hear my story. In my case, that meant my therapist, and a very few trusted friends.
In my work now, I help clients find or create those safe spaces too. Trauma is often born in relationships, and it is through safe, supportive relationships that we can begin to repair.
2. Asking “What Happened to Me?” Instead of “What’s Wrong With Me?”
Reading What Happened to You? by Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Bruce Perry was a breakthrough moment. It reframed my patterns — the people-pleasing, the avoidance, the overreaction — as survival responses, not character flaws.
This is something I integrate into my therapy practice every day. When we shift the question, we soften the self-attack and make room for compassion. I don’t believe any of us are broken — we are whole beings finding our way back to ourselves.
3. Quieting the Inner Critic
For me, meditation was where I first noticed my inner critic in action: “You’re not meditating right… your mind just wandered… do it better.”
I now teach clients to work with these inner voices, not against them — to spot the criticism, pause, and gently replace it with something supportive. It’s about saying to your inner child, I see you, I love you, and there’s nothing wrong with you.
Today’s Perspective
These days, I understand that the voice urging me to stay small and in survival mode isn’t truth — it’s my younger self calling out for love and safety.
And in my work as a trauma psychotherapist, I help others hear and respond to that voice differently too.
Self-acceptance isn’t about excusing harmful behaviour or pretending the past didn’t matter — it’s about reclaiming the power to respond with compassion instead of criticism.
If you’re finding it hard to stop judging yourself for how you’ve coped, know that this is a sign you’re human, not hopeless. And with the right support, you can move from self-judgement to self-acceptance — and that’s where true recovery begins.
If you’d like to explore this more, I offer therapy in Romford, Harold Wood, and Chelmsford, specialising in trauma, addiction, and codependency recovery.
Get in touch here to take the first step toward healing with compassion.
Andrea, x