Dear Survivor,
I was standing in a Jamaican patty shop, a place I frequently visited, a place I felt reasonably safe, when my body betrayed me. Or so I thought.
An older gentleman in the corner started complimenting me. I said thank you out of courtesy, but the more he spoke, the more something inside me clenched. My heart started racing. My breathing turned shallow. Then he got up from his stool and walked toward me.
And just as he reached out to touch me, I snapped.
I swatted his hand away hard while shifting my body. Expletives flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. It was like my body hijacked me, mouth and hands moving faster than my brain. When I returned to myself, all I saw were startled, judgmental eyes staring at me.
“I was just trying to say hello,” he said.
As I rushed out, I heard someone murmur in patois: “A wey she a gwaan so fa?” Why is she acting that pway?
I felt humiliated. Angry. Fearful. Sad. And most of all, alone.
The shame hit me in waves. What was that about? What is wrong with me? Why did my body have to react like that?
It was early in my healing journey and I didn’t have language to express what had just happened. It took me years to understand what my body was doing that day.
My body wasn’t betraying me. It was protecting me.
When Your Body Remembers What Your Mind Forgot
For years, I didn’t have words for what I felt. Some sensations had names I made up. Others remained nameless.
I’m still uncovering things. Still learning what meanings I’ve attached to feelings and responses. And that’s okay, healing doesn’t come with a manual or a timeline.
But here’s what I know now: your body holds the memory of what happened to you, even when your mind tries to forget.
That racing heart when an older man gets too close? That’s not paranoia. That’s your nervous system saying: “I remember. And I won’t let it happen again.”
That queasy stomach when someone crosses a boundary? That’s not weakness. That’s your body saying: “Danger. Get out.”
Your body isn’t broken. It’s remembering. And it’s trying to keep you safe.
The Physical Responses That Protect You (Even When They Feel Like Too Much)
Let me name some of the ways your body might be protecting you, and why they deserve respect, not shame.
Panic as Protection
That explosive reaction in the patty shop? Panic. My body went into fight mode before my brain could catch up.
Panic isn’t an overreaction, it’s your body saying: “No!” “Not again. Never again.”
If you’ve ever had a panic attack in a “safe” situation and felt ashamed, like you should have been able to control your response, hear me: your body was doing exactly what it was designed to do. It saw a pattern, a trigger, a reminder, an activation, and it protected you the only way it knew how.
A story that broke my heart wide open:
I often think of a call with a mother who expressed concern about her son who has been institutionalized for quite some time. The staff at the facility had become increasingly aggressive with him because he refused to take showers and would go into a full-on panic when forced to. She admitted it was getting increasingly difficult for her and other family members to be around him because of the odor. She said that “they” including the professionals at the facility, could not pinpoint why he refused to bathe.
I apologized for my question ahead of time before asking if this young man was at any point sexually violated, and if so, if she knew the details of what happened.
There was a deep breath taken, followed by a passionate “Oh my God!” and then sobbing.
After the mom regained her composure, she said, “Larissa, he was assaulted in our bathroom as a very young boy by our sitter. How could we miss that?”
Panic was this young man’s body screaming: “No!” “Not again. Never again.”
After a lengthy conversation, including suggested approaches, I left that call and wept for the child stuck in that young man’s body, misunderstood but working overtime to keep himself safe.
Your panic makes sense. It always has.
Hypervigilance as Wisdom
I’ve been called “too cautious”, and that’s saying it mildly. “Overprotective” is more like it. Even paranoid. I assess every room, notice exits, watch hands, stay alert. My children are NOT allowed to do sleepovers. Some call it paranoia. I call it survival.
Hypervigilance isn’t a flaw. It’s wisdom and awareness born from experience. You’re not “too much”, you’re appropriately alert based on what you’ve survived.
Exhaustion as Evidence
After retreats or heavy conversations, I’m wiped out. For years, I labeled it differently. I thought I had to get a better handle on being overly passionate or too caught up in my work. I questioned: Why couldn’t I just bounce back like everyone else seemed to? Was I cut out for this? Was I being too emotionally invested?
Maybe I was. However -
Now I know: exhaustion after triggers isn’t weakness. It’s evidence that your body has been working overtime to process trauma, your own and others’. I also learned that healing is invisible labor, and rest is required, not optional. This is especially true when living with a chronic illness that can create complications at any given time.
What God Says About Your Body’s Protection
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ~ Psalm 34:18
God doesn’t shame your responses. He draws near. Even your panic and hypervigilance can be seen as ways He has preserved your life.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ~ Psalm 34:18
God sees your triggers. He sees the child who wasn’t protected and the adult who’s still learning to trust her own body. Your nervous system—with all its panic, hypervigilance, exhaustion, and shutdown- isn’t something God condemns. It’s something He understands. It took me a while to believe that, but I do now.
Get Honest with Yourself - Ask Yourself:
- When has my body warned me, and I ignored it? What happened?
- When has my body kept me safe, even if others didn’t understand?
The Truth You Need to Hear
Dear Survivor, your body is not betraying you, it’s protecting you.
The work isn’t to silence your body. The work is to begin listening again.
🔵 Next week, we’ll continue with Part 2, where I’ll share how shutdown, and dissociation are not failures, but signs your body is working hard to protect you. Together, we’ll walk through how to honor these responses and work with your nervous system, not against it.”
From my heart to yours
Join me as I/we
Journey 2 Free
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