Developmental Trauma (DT) is drawing increasing attention in academic, therapeutic and social care settings. DT is what happens when a child goes through repeated and intense negative experiences that exceed her ability to cope. Trauma is a toxic concoction of all-consuming fear and the inability to act on self-preserving instincts such as fight or flight. With no defense or escape in reach, traumatized children swerve into - and become stuck in - a protective albeit dysfunctional mode of being mentally, emotionally, and physiologically. DT is often inflicted by a child’s parents or carers, though the array of child abusers is in no way limited to them.
Unfortunately DT is commonplace. Too many children live in homes wrecked by war, domestic violence, sexual abuse, addiction, poverty, mental health issues, and the list goes on. As society is beginning to take notice of the unbearable suffering and harm inflicted upon some of its most precious and vulnerable members, we are also only breaking ground in understanding the many ways in which DT diminishes one’s chances to live a fulfilling life and what systems and interventions we must put in place to prevent DT and help DT survivors heal.
It will come as no surprise that I am a DT survivor myself. I’ve grown up in a deeply inadequate family environment and spent decades thereafter making sense of my early life experiences and the many scars I was left with. Not that you could tell. On the surface I did what most people do, trying my hardest to fit in a world that I didn’t understand and that I was in no way prepared to navigate. I went to school, built a career, got married and had children, all while secretly looking for answers and companionship on the long road to DT recovery.
It turns out that healing from DT is expensive. Digging yourself out of such a deep hole takes time, grit and not an insignificant amount of money. Attempting to edit your life script is a luxury not everyone enjoys. To make things harder yet, DT survivors have to confront a complete lack of DT awareness among friends, family, and, tragically, most mental health practitioners. DT is not (yet) a visible topic like autism, ADHD or depression. DT isn’t big on TV, Tik Tok or even most psychotherapy degree curricula. Some cases of overtly brutal child abuse feature in our news feed occasionally, but they’re seldom followed by an in-depth discussion about the long term implications for the victims. And yes, we’re seeing emerging efforts to put in place trauma informed approaches in social care and education. But for adult DT survivors whose demons swarm below the surface there’s practically nothing out there. The mismatch between the pervasiveness of DT and the general shrug of shoulders when it comes to DT prevention and its aftermath is a topic I will return to.
DT is not something neatly boxed in our private lives. I’ve spent 20+ years working in corporate environments, in various roles across the Human Resources function. I have witnessed first hand, in myself and others, how an unaddressed history of DT shows up in much of what we do at work. Job interviews, elevator speeches, feedback conversations, salary negotiations, high stakes presentations are all a stage for DT sequela to act out on.
My HR career convinced me that support for DT survivors in the workplace is nowhere in sight. Corporations are not mental healthcare providers. Organizations exist to supply products and services and produce wealth. Some employers have an honest ambition to foster caring, inclusive cultures but they do not have the time, money or skillset to go into any depth on mental health topics. Their limited resources go into more prominent concerns such as stress, anxiety, or discrimination. DT is not even an afterthought. I am not optimistic about how quickly we will begin to talk candidly and compassionately about DT at work. With no cavalry on its way it is up to us, the DT survivors, to, yet again, help ourselves. Watch this space for more of my thoughts on how DT permeates work and careers, and what DT survivors can do to navigate these situations successfully.
Finally, it baffles me that the voice of DT survivors is all but missing in the current conversation about DT. Of course, talking about DT is daunting and definitely something we all must do with care and in the right setting. But it is time to put fear and shame aside. I intend to share here some of my own experiences and learnings, as well as the research and clinical experience of others. I hope this will provide some clarity and alleviate the suffocating sense of pain and loneliness many DT survivors feel. I also hope this will encourage other DT survivors and their support networks to join me in speaking up and problem solving together. I have no doubt there is tremendous opportunity, at work and elsewhere, for DT survivors who have the knowledge and tools they need to surpass their past and build a better future.
So there you have it! These are the things that demand, in my opinion, more visibility and action. Subscribe, comment or email me at traumaatwork@outlook.com and let me know your reactions, where you’re at on your journey, and any questions or struggles you’d like to explore together.
Thanks for tuning in,
Adina
Adina, I read your piece with great interest. Developmental Trauma (DT) is, indeed, often a consequence of childhood mental, physical, or emotional abuse. How fascinating that you work in HR—what a unique perspective that must give you! When I read your thoughts on work environments and DT, I couldn’t help but smile; it almost feels like something out of science fiction!
Happy to join the conversation and share my views and stories.