Traumalescence: A Trauma Therapist's New Word for the Pattern No One's Talking About
Understanding and Normalizing This Essential Phase of Healing
Your Trauma Therapist by Lauren Auer, LCPC is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
As a trauma therapist, I kept noticing this pattern. Clients would reach a certain point in their healing where everything felt awkward - like adolescence all over again. Their old lives felt like borrowed clothes, their relationships shifted, and simple choices became overwhelming.
I searched for a term to describe this phase and found nothing. That's when I started calling it "traumalescence." Because watching my clients navigate this reminded me so much of being thirteen - when your body feels foreign and you're discovering who you are.
In my office, I've watched countless people move through this beautiful, messy phase. Standing in Target wondering if they actually like the color black, or if they just wore it because someone once told them to be smaller. Sitting with old friends feeling like they're speaking a different language. Looking in mirrors, not quite recognizing who's looking back.
After years of witnessing these transformations, I can tell you - this isn't regression. This is progress. Like adolescence, this phase is about becoming. Your wobbling steps are taking you exactly where you need to go.
Traumalescence (n.): The transformative period during trauma recovery when a person begins experiencing the world through a new lens, marked by shifts in identity, relationships, and neural pathways. Like adolescence, it's characterized by a sometimes uncomfortable "in-between" state where old survival patterns are shed while new, healthier ways of being emerge. This natural phase of healing often involves:
Questioning previously automatic behaviors and beliefs
Rediscovering authentic preferences and boundaries
Neural reorganization and nervous system regulation
Changes in relationships and social dynamics
A mix of grief, liberation, and uncertainty as the nervous system recalibrates
I remember standing in front of my bathroom mirror at thirteen, staring at a face I barely recognized. My skin had betrayed me with acne, my limbs felt too long for my body, and nothing made sense anymore. The world that had seemed so straightforward in childhood had become a maze of unspoken social rules and shifting identities. Back then, at least I had a word for what I was experiencing - adolescence. The term itself offered a kind of comfort, a recognition that this awkward, uncomfortable phase was normal and necessary.
Years later, I found myself in front of another mirror, this time with a newborn sleeping in the next room. My body felt foreign again, but it wasn't just physical changes throwing me off balance. My entire identity was in flux. I felt caught between who I used to be and who I was becoming, struggling to find solid ground in this new version of myself.
It wasn't until later that I discovered the term "matrescence" - a word coined by medical anthropologist Dana Raphael in 1973 to describe the developmental transition into motherhood. Learning this term was like finding a missing puzzle piece. Just as adolescence encompasses the physical, hormonal, and emotional changes of becoming an adult, matrescence captures the profound identity shift of becoming a mother.
Dr. Alexandra Sacks, who brought this term into modern discourse through her work in reproductive psychiatry, describes matrescence as a complex process that includes both biological and psychological elements. Research shows this transition period affects everything from brain structure to self-concept, yet until recently, we didn't have language to describe this profound transformation. Society expected new mothers to seamlessly adapt, denying the reality that identity transitions are inherently messy and uncomfortable.
These experiences took on new meaning as I began my work as a trauma therapist. In my office, I started noticing familiar patterns in clients who were deep in their healing journey. They would describe feeling "weird" or "off," how relationships that once felt comfortable now seemed strange, how they were seeing their past experiences through an entirely new lens. Their descriptions reminded me of my own experiences with adolescence and matrescence - that same sense of being caught between identities, of seeing the world differently but not quite knowing how to navigate it yet.
Birth of a Term
As these patterns emerged across different clients' experiences, I realized we needed a term for this distinctive phase of trauma recovery. Just as adolescence marks the transition from child to adult, and matrescence describes the transformation into motherhood, this phase of trauma recovery deserved its own recognition. That's when I coined the term "traumalescence."
traum·ah·les·cence (n.): The transition period of the trauma healing process when a person starts to experience the world from a new lens and shift their identity.
The Brain in Transition
To understand why this phase feels so profound, we need to look at what's happening in the brain during trauma healing. Just as adolescence and matrescence involve significant neurobiological changes, trauma recovery literally reshapes our neural architecture.
Dr. Bruce Perry's research shows that trauma, particularly during developmental years, fundamentally alters our brain's architecture. Think of it like a house being built during an earthquake - the structure adapts to maintain stability, but those adaptations might not serve us best in calmer times.
Recent studies using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) have revealed several key brain regions affected by trauma:
The Alarm System (Amygdala):
Sarah, a client in her mid-thirties, described it perfectly: "It's like my brain's smoke detector used to go off at the slightest hint of smoke. Now that I'm healing, it's recalibrating - but sometimes that means it feels even more sensitive as it learns the difference between actual fire and just cooking dinner."
The Memory Center (Hippocampus):
Mark, another client, shared how his memories began shifting during healing: "Things I thought were normal suddenly don't seem normal at all. It's like I'm watching my childhood home movies with new eyes."
The Rational Brain (Prefrontal Cortex):
"I used to pride myself on never feeling angry," Ana told me during a session. "Now I realize that wasn't emotional control - it was emotional shutdown. Learning to feel anger appropriately is like learning to walk again."
The Shape of Survival
When trauma occurs, especially during formative years, it doesn't just create wounds - it shapes an entire identity. Like a tree growing around an obstacle, we develop around our trauma, creating personalities and behaviors designed to keep us safe in an unsafe world. This adaptation is brilliant and necessary for survival. But as we begin to heal, we face a startling question: Who am I without these adaptations?
Think of it like wearing a suit of armor since childhood. The armor kept you safe, but it also limited your movement, affected how others interacted with you, and influenced every decision you made. Now, as you begin to heal, you're slowly removing that armor. The freedom is exhilarating, but it's also terrifying.
The Patterns We Inherit
"I should be happy," Emma said, twisting her wedding ring in my office after receiving a major promotion. "I've wanted this job forever. But ever since I started therapy, since I started dealing with my past... I'm not even sure if I wanted this job, or if I just wanted to prove I wasn't worthless like my father said."
Like Emma, many clients start to recognize patterns they never questioned before:
Maya, a successful executive, realized her perfectionism wasn't ambition - it was a response to a mother whose love was conditional on performance. "I'm exhausted," she admitted. "I've been trying to earn the right to exist my whole life."
James, everyone's favorite friend, discovered his people-pleasing wasn't kindness - it was a strategy learned from navigating an unpredictable parent. "I don't even know what I want most of the time," he shared. "I'm so busy scanning for what everyone else wants."
Ana, praised all her life for being "so mature," saw how her hypervigilance wasn't wisdom - it was the cost of growing up with an alcoholic parent. "I thought I was just really good at reading people," she said. "Now I realize I learned to read micro-expressions because my survival depended on it."
These weren't character flaws or personality quirks - they were survival skills. But like a soldier returning from war, these hypervigilant responses don't serve us in times of peace.
The Neuroscience of Change
Dr. Rachel Yehuda's research shows that trauma doesn't just change our behavior - it alters how our genes express themselves through epigenetic modifications. This helps explain why trauma responses can feel so deeply ingrained in our personality. The good news, according to Dr. Norman Doidge's work on neuroplasticity, is that these changes aren't permanent.
During healing, several key transitions occur in the brain:
Neural Network Reorganization:
New pathways form as we develop healthier responses
Old trauma patterns begin to weaken
Integration between brain regions improves
One client, a musician, described this healing process beautifully: "It's like my brain was an orchestra where the percussion section (fear response) was drowning out everything else. Now, through therapy, it's like the conductor (prefrontal cortex) is learning to balance all the sections again."
The Great Unbecoming
"I feel like I'm going through puberty again," Lily said during one session, laughing as she gestured to her bright yellow sweater. "I've worn nothing but black and grey my whole life because my mom always said bright colors were attention-seeking. Now I'm discovering I love color. But it feels so... conspicuous. Like everyone is staring at me."
This phase of "trying on" new ways of being parallels adolescence in striking ways. Just as teenagers experiment with different identities, those in traumalescence begin to explore who they might be without the constraints of trauma responses.
Tom, a former client who gave permission to share his story, described abandoning his 20-year career in finance after realizing his entire professional identity was built around proving his worth through achievement. "I used to judge people who didn't have ambitious careers," he shared. "Now I work at a garden center, make less than half what I used to, and I've never been happier. But getting here? Telling my family? That was the hardest thing I've ever done."
The Timeline of Change
Research from the National Institute of Mental Health suggests that significant brain structure changes can begin within 8-12 weeks of starting trauma therapy. However, like adolescence, the full process of neural reorganization typically takes several years.
Common patterns include:
First 3-6 months:
Increased emotional awareness
Heightened sensitivity to stimuli
Some disorientation as old patterns shift
"It's like getting glasses for the first time," one client described. "Everything is clearer, but that clarity can be overwhelming."
6-18 months:
New neural pathways strengthening
Better emotional regulation
Improved stress response
"I'm starting to trust myself," another client shared. "Not just my thoughts, but my body's signals too."
18 months - 3 years:
Integration of new patterns
More stable sense of self
Resilient nervous system
The Freedom and Fear of Choice
Like adolescence and matrescence, traumalescence brings a flood of new choices - choices that can feel both liberating and overwhelming. Rachel, a naturally gifted artist, had pursued a "practical" career because art was "selfish" in her family of origin. In therapy, she brought in her first painting since childhood. "I felt guilty the whole time I was making it," she admitted. "But also more alive than I have in years."
These discoveries ripple through every aspect of life:
Katie realized she hated spinning classes, which she'd been doing for years because her emotionally abusive ex insisted she needed to "stay in shape"
David discovered he actually loved hosting dinner parties after growing up believing he was "too awkward" for social gatherings
Jennifer found herself drawn to bold, feminist literature after years of reading only what her controlling mother deemed "appropriate"
The Discomfort of Authenticity
"Sometimes I feel like an alien in my own life," Maria shared during a particularly powerful session. "Last week, I told my sister 'no' for the first time ever. She needed me to babysit, and instead of automatically saying yes and rearranging my whole schedule like usual, I just... didn't. I had plans to go hiking, and I kept them. I felt horrible and amazing at the same time."
This reclamation of authentic choices often starts small but carries profound neurological impact. Dr. Stephen Porges's research on the Polyvagal Theory shows that as our nervous system begins to feel safe, we activate different neural circuits that allow for new behaviors and responses.
These shifts can appear in unexpected ways:
Realizing you actually hate the taste of coffee, you just trained yourself to drink it to seem "grown up"
Finding your political views were shaped more by fear of conflict than personal conviction
Discovering you love dancing after years of staying still to avoid attention
Noticing that your spiritual beliefs were rooted in fear rather than faith
"I bought red lipstick yesterday," a client told me, her voice quiet with wonder. "My mother always said it made women look 'cheap.' I put it on in the store and started crying - not because it looked bad, but because I loved it. I'm 42 years old, and it's the first time I've chosen something purely because I liked it."
The Ripple Effect in Relationships
The brain's mirror neuron system, which helps us understand and connect with others, undergoes significant reorganization during trauma healing. This biological shift often creates waves in our relationships.
Sam described it as "learning to speak a new language." In his healing journey, he found himself pulling away from drinking buddies who bonded over shared trauma histories and gravitating toward people who could hold space for deeper connections.
These shifts can be particularly challenging in family systems:
Claire had to renegotiate boundaries with her mother, who was used to daily phone calls and unlimited access. "It feels like I'm breaking her heart," Claire shared, "but I'm realizing I've been breaking my own heart for years by never having limits."
Marcus found himself unable to laugh at his father's racist jokes, breaking a longstanding family pattern of compliance. "It's like once I started respecting myself, I couldn't pretend anymore."
Elena realized her "best friend" since childhood was actually a trauma bond, and their relationship was built on mutual dysfunction. "We kept each other stuck," she realized. "Neither of us could grow because we were too busy reinforcing each other's old patterns."
The Grief in Growth
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of traumalescence is the grief. The brain's limbic system processes both past and present losses during healing, often bringing up layers of mourning we didn't know existed.
Common areas of grief include:
The time spent in survival mode
The relationships that don't survive the transformation
The decisions made from a trauma response
The person you might have been without the trauma
The comfort of familiar patterns, even if they were unhealthy
"Sometimes I get angry at myself for grieving," Alex shared in session. "Like, why am I sad about letting go of behaviors that were hurting me? But then I remember - these patterns kept me alive. They deserve to be honored, even as I outgrow them."
Supporting the Brain Through Transition
Research suggests several key factors that support healthy brain change during traumalescence:
Regular Exercise:
Promotes neuroplasticity
Releases BDNF (brain-derived neurotrophic factor)
Supports new neural growth
Adequate Sleep:
Allows for memory consolidation
Supports emotional processing
Helps regulate stress hormones
Social Connection:
Activates social engagement system
Supports neural regulation
Provides environmental safety
Finding Your Way Through
If you recognize yourself in this description, here are some things to remember:
This phase is normal and necessary - research shows identity reconstruction is a crucial part of trauma recovery
The discomfort you're feeling is a sign of growth
You don't have to figure it all out at once
It's okay to grieve what you're leaving behind
Your feelings of uncertainty are valid
A Natural Part of Healing
Understanding traumalescence as a natural phase of healing can help normalize what might otherwise feel like a frightening or isolating experience. Just as we wouldn't expect a teenager to wake up one day magically adjusted to adulthood, or a new mother to instantly understand her transformed identity, we shouldn't expect trauma recovery to be a linear journey from wounded to healed.
This in-between space, uncomfortable as it might be, is where some of our most important growth happens. It's where we learn to trust ourselves, where we discover our authentic voices, and where we begin to create lives that align with who we're becoming rather than who we were told to be.
As one client beautifully put it: "I used to think healing meant going back to who I was before the trauma. Now I realize it's about becoming who I was always meant to be."
If you're in this phase right now, know that you're not alone, you're not doing it wrong, and this too shall pass. You're not losing yourself - you're finding yourself, one awkward, beautiful step at a time.
Your Trauma Therapist by Lauren Auer, LCPC is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
Thank you so much for writing out all of this. This explains so much of what I am going through right now.
I desperately needed to read this in this exact moment. Really thoughtfully written, with such potent examples. Thank you, thank you.