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Echoes from the Past: How Psychodynamic Therapy Helps Clients Heal Childhood Trauma

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Jun 4

Psychodynamic therapy helps clients heal childhood trauma by uncovering how early relationships and experiences shape current emotions, behaviors, and self-beliefs. By creating space for insight, grieving, and emotional processing, psychodynamic therapy helps clients reclaim parts of themselves they had to hide to survive.

Echoes from the Past: How Psychodynamic Therapy Helps Clients Heal Childhood Trauma

Childhood trauma doesn’t stay in childhood. It echoes—through adult relationships, self-esteem, decision-making, and even the body. For many clients, trauma shows up not as a memory but as a pattern—a reflex to withdraw when loved, to panic when slighted, or to sabotage success because it feels unfamiliar or unsafe. These aren’t conscious choices. They’re emotional survival strategies learned early, often in homes where safety, love, or stability were inconsistent or absent.


Psychodynamic therapy helps clients explore these early experiences not to place blame, but to understand how the past informs the present—and how it can stop running the show.


More Than Just Talking About the Past


A common misconception is that psychodynamic therapy is only about digging up old memories. In truth, it’s about uncovering the emotional logic behind current suffering. This approach understands that the roots of many adult struggles are unconscious, buried beneath years of coping, masking, or avoidance.


For example, someone who grew up walking on eggshells around a volatile parent may struggle with setting boundaries as an adult. They may not remember why, but their body remembers the danger of conflict. Psychodynamic therapy gently helps clients connect the dots—between past emotional injuries and present relational patterns—so they can begin to make new, empowered choices.



“Why Do I Always Feel This Way?”


Imagine a client who feels intense panic when their partner doesn’t respond to a text. They might say, “I know it’s irrational, but I feel abandoned.” That emotional intensity isn’t about the text—it’s about a younger version of themselves who learned that love could vanish at any moment.


Psychodynamic therapy honors these younger parts. The therapist might ask: “When was the first time you remember feeling that kind of panic?” This question opens the door to buried stories—often of neglect, unpredictability, or unmet emotional needs. As clients begin to recognize their emotional responses as echoes of the past, they gain the power to respond instead of react.


The Power of the Therapy Relationship


One of the most powerful elements of psychodynamic work is transference—the way clients unconsciously replay past relational dynamics with their therapist. While this might sound technical, it’s deeply human. Clients may fear they’re too much, expect rejection, or idealize the therapist—just as they once did with caregivers. These feelings are not interruptions—they’re data.


In this relational space, the therapist doesn’t just talk about safety—they embody it. When a client becomes withdrawn or angry and the therapist remains present and curious, something radical happens: the client begins to experience a new template for connection. This lived experience of being accepted, even in vulnerability, becomes the seed of healing.


Defenses: Not Broken, But Brave


Clients often come into therapy ashamed of their coping mechanisms—self-isolation, perfectionism, overachievement, people-pleasing. Psychodynamic therapy reframes these as brilliant, if outdated, survival tools. Every defense once had a purpose: to protect, to soothe, to preserve dignity or safety in an unsafe environment.


The goal isn’t to tear these down, but to understand their origin with compassion. A client who dissociates during conflict, for example, may learn that zoning out was the only way to survive a household where emotions were explosive or ignored. Once these defenses are recognized, the client can begin to build more adaptive strategies, grounded in the present rather than the past.


So, Who Is Psychodynamic Therapy Best For?


Psychodynamic therapy is especially helpful for clients who:


  • Struggle with recurring relationship issues that don’t resolve with surface-level interventions

  • Feel stuck in emotional patterns without clear reasons

  • Have complex or early-life trauma histories

  • Are curious, open to introspection, and willing to explore deeper emotional layers

  • Want not just symptom relief, but insight and long-term change


However, it's not always the best fit for everyone. Here are some important limitations:


  • It’s a slower process, and results may not be immediate—this can be frustrating for those in acute crisis or looking for short-term coping strategies.

  • It may feel abstract or too "in the head" for clients who prefer structured, skills-based approaches like CBT or DBT.

  • It requires a certain level of psychological mindedness, meaning clients need to be able (or willing to learn) to reflect on inner experiences.

  • For individuals with severe dissociation, psychosis, or acute substance use without stabilization, this approach may not be safe as a first step and may need to be paired with other interventions first.


That said, when the timing, therapeutic match, and client readiness align, psychodynamic therapy can be deeply transformative.



Slow Work, Deep Change


Psychodynamic therapy isn’t a quick fix—but for trauma survivors, it’s often the right fix. It doesn’t rush the client toward symptom relief; it invites them to explore the origin of their pain, and to gently rewrite the scripts they’ve been living by.


This type of therapy creates space for grieving what was lost—the childhood that wasn’t safe, the care that wasn’t given, the needs that went unseen. Only through grieving can clients reclaim parts of themselves they had to abandon to survive. In doing so, they don’t just “feel better.” They feel whole.


What Might Your Wounds Say?


Psychodynamic therapy asks brave questions—and holds space for difficult answers. In the quiet of the therapy room, many clients begin to hear something they’ve never heard before: the voice of their inner child, asking to be seen, understood, and loved.


So here’s the question:If your childhood wounds could speak, what would they want you to finally understand—and how might your life change if you truly listened?


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Building Bridges After the Break: How DBT Supports PTSD Recovery

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 29

DBT supports PTSD recovery by helping individuals regulate overwhelming emotions, tolerate distress safely, and rebuild a sense of self that trauma often fractures. Through skills like mindfulness and emotional regulation, DBT supports PTSD recovery not just by managing symptoms, but by empowering survivors to reclaim their lives with resilience and self-compassion.

Building Bridges After the Break: How DBT Supports PTSD Recovery

When we think of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), images of flashbacks, anxiety, and emotional flooding often come to mind. But beneath the surface of these symptoms lies a deeper struggle: the feeling that your inner world is unmanageable, unsafe, or disconnected from who you once were. For many, Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) offers not just coping skills—but a compassionate map back to themselves.


Originally developed by Dr. Marsha Linehan for individuals with Borderline Personality Disorder and chronic suicidality, DBT has become a lifeline for many living with PTSD. Why? Because DBT doesn’t just treat symptoms—it teaches people how to navigate the emotional storms trauma leaves behind.



The Four Pillars of Healing


At the heart of DBT are four core skill areas: Mindfulness, Distress Tolerance, Emotion Regulation, and Interpersonal Effectiveness. For trauma survivors, these aren't just therapeutic tools—they’re survival skills reimagined.


  • Mindfulness helps individuals reconnect with the present moment, anchoring them during flashbacks or dissociation. Many trauma survivors feel "hijacked" by the past; mindfulness gives them back a sense of agency over their attention and body.


  • Distress Tolerance equips clients to ride out emotional pain without resorting to harmful coping strategies like self-harm, numbing, or avoidance. In DBT, clients learn crisis survival skills that offer real alternatives—like grounding exercises, the TIPP skill (Temperature, Intense exercise, Paced breathing, Progressive relaxation), and self-soothing.


  • Emotion Regulation teaches clients how to name, understand, and manage overwhelming feelings like shame, rage, or fear. Instead of being controlled by emotions that don’t make sense, clients build a toolkit for emotional clarity and balance.


  • Interpersonal Effectiveness helps trauma survivors relearn how to relate to others. When PTSD results from relational trauma—like abuse, betrayal, or abandonment—this skill set empowers clients to set boundaries, ask for what they need, and rebuild trust slowly and safely.


DBT Meets Trauma: What Makes It Work?


What sets DBT apart from traditional trauma therapies is its balance of acceptance and change. Many trauma survivors feel pressure to "get over it" or to always be working toward healing. DBT acknowledges that it’s okay to feel broken and want to move forward. Clients are taught how to hold two truths at once: “This pain is real, and I can still build a life worth living.”


For individuals with PTSD, particularly complex trauma or co-occurring issues like self-harm, substance use, or dissociation, DBT provides a structured, skill-focused approach that doesn't re-traumatize. Instead of diving straight into trauma narratives, DBT helps clients stabilize first—so that when trauma processing happens (often with EMDR, CPT, or prolonged exposure), the emotional foundation is stronger and safer.


When Healing Feels Possible Again


One of the most beautiful things about DBT is its validation. Survivors often hear, “What happened to you was terrible—but your reactions make sense.” In a world that may have dismissed their pain, DBT offers a new kind of truth: you are not broken beyond repair.


Whether taught in group sessions, individual therapy, or integrated with trauma-specific treatments, DBT can gently guide clients from survival to self-understanding. It's not about rushing to "fix" trauma—it's about learning to live alongside it, with dignity, skill, and hope.



So here’s the real question:


What if the first step in healing trauma isn’t reliving it—but learning the skills to hold your pain with compassion?


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Why Intimacy Feels Risky—and How to Build Meaningful Relationships Anyway

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 16

Why intimacy feels risky often traces back to early experiences where vulnerability was met with pain, making closeness feel more threatening than comforting. Even when we crave connection, intimacy feels risky because it asks us to be seen, known, and emotionally exposed—without any guarantee of being accepted.

Close Enough to Touch: Why Intimacy Feels So Risky Yet Matters So Much

Why do some of us pull away just when things start getting close? Whether it’s a romantic partner, a trusted friend, or even a therapist—we might crave connection but find ourselves building walls instead. This inner conflict is at the heart of Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stage of Intimacy vs. Isolation, a crucial developmental task that unfolds in early adulthood.


In this stage, the challenge isn’t just about finding someone—it’s about being seen, known, and emotionally safe with another human being without losing your own sense of self.


What Intimacy Really Means


Intimacy isn’t just physical closeness. It’s the courage to reveal your vulnerable parts, to be fully present with someone without armor. It involves trust, emotional risk, and the mutual exchange of authenticity.


True intimacy looks like:


  • Having honest conversations, even when it’s uncomfortable.

  • Letting someone support you without feeling like a burden.

  • Holding space for another’s truth without trying to fix or flee.

  • Maintaining your individuality while building “we.”


Why Intimacy Feels So Risky


Opening up means handing someone a fragile part of yourself—and not knowing what they’ll do with it. For many, especially those who’ve experienced betrayal, neglect, or emotional abandonment, vulnerability has been met with pain. We learn early on that closeness can lead to hurt, rejection, or even shame.


Intimacy can feel risky because it:


  • Challenges old survival strategies like shutting down or staying in control.

  • Forces us to confront our deepest fears: being “too much,” “not enough,” or ultimately unlovable.

  • Means relying on someone else—which can feel unsafe if support hasn’t always been reliable.

  • Makes us visible, and with that comes the terrifying possibility of judgment or loss.


These risks aren’t imagined—they’re wired into us through experience. But so is the capacity to heal.



When Isolation Takes Over


For those who struggle to form deep connections, the alternative is often quiet isolation—not always visible from the outside. People may appear social, successful, even loved—but inside, they feel alone. Past wounds, attachment trauma, or a fear of engulfment can all fuel a pattern of withdrawing when emotional closeness is required.


This emotional distance can manifest as:


  • Fear of commitment or long-term attachment.

  • Sabotaging relationships when they get serious.

  • Relying solely on oneself, refusing to ask for help.

  • Feeling fundamentally “different” or misunderstood.


The Healing Path to Intimacy


The good news? Intimacy is a skill, not just a state. It can be developed. It begins with self-awareness and is nurtured by safe, emotionally responsive relationships.

To build intimacy:


  • Start with vulnerability in small doses—share your feelings with a trusted person.

  • Notice your automatic reactions when someone gets close.

  • Seek therapy if past wounds make connection feel unsafe.

  • Learn to sit with discomfort rather than escape it.


When Connection Hurts: How to Handle Disappointment


Sometimes, you do open up—and the other person doesn’t meet you there. Maybe they shut down. Maybe they criticize. Or maybe they disappear.


Here’s how to stay standing when intimacy doesn’t go as hoped:


  • Name the hurt without blaming yourself. Disappointment is not a sign that you were wrong to try—it’s a sign you were brave enough to risk connection.

  • Grieve the letdown. Feel the sadness or anger fully. Let it pass through, not control you.

  • Stay rooted in your worth. One person’s response doesn’t define your value.

  • Revisit your boundaries. Sometimes, the lesson isn’t “don’t open up again,” but “be more mindful about who you open up to.”

  • Try again, with wisdom. Resilience in intimacy means knowing pain is part of the process—but not the whole story.


Disappointment can be a detour—not a dead end.



What If It’s Worth the Risk?


When we lean into intimacy, we create opportunities for mutual growth, healing, and joy. Isolation may feel safer, but it rarely leads to the emotional nourishment we all need.


So here’s the real question:


What would it take for you to let someone truly know you—and are you willing to risk being seen to be loved, even if it doesn’t go perfectly the first time?


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