- Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
- May 14
Supporting a child with PTSD means showing up with patience, consistency, and a willingness to listen, even when their behavior is hard to understand. Safety and trust are more powerful than any single intervention—healing begins with feeling truly seen.
When we think of trauma, we often imagine battlefields or natural disasters. But for many children, trauma takes the form of what happens behind closed doors: the loss of a parent, emotional neglect, witnessing domestic violence, or even ongoing instability in their environment. Childhood PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) is a silent weight that too many young hearts carry—and it rarely looks the way we expect.
What PTSD Looks Like in Children
Unlike adults, children with PTSD may not verbalize their distress. Instead, they may become irritable, aggressive, withdrawn, or overly anxious. They may regress developmentally, struggle with sleep, experience frequent nightmares, or display physical symptoms like stomachaches or headaches. Some children act out the trauma in play or drawings; others go numb.
It’s easy to misinterpret these behaviors as “bad,” “attention-seeking,” or “defiant,” especially if we don't know what’s beneath the surface. But these are not acts of rebellion—they're signals of a child trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels safe.
What Happens When the Trauma Is in the Family?
This is one of the most painful truths: sometimes, the very people who are supposed to keep a child safe are the ones who’ve caused harm.
When the trauma stems from within the family—whether it’s abuse, neglect, addiction, or witnessing violence between caregivers—it adds a complex layer of betrayal and confusion for the child. Their primary attachment figures, the ones they rely on for safety, have also been the source of fear or hurt.
In these situations, healing requires more than individual therapy. It may mean:
Separating from harmful environments. Sometimes safety can only begin when distance is created—physically, emotionally, or both.
Establishing alternative sources of security. A grandparent, aunt, foster parent, or therapist may become the consistent and safe adult the child needs.
Family therapy (when appropriate). In cases where the harmful caregiver is doing their own healing work, structured therapeutic reparation may be possible.
Holding accountability with compassion. Families can break cycles—but only when the harm is acknowledged, not minimized or denied.
It’s important to understand that a child’s healing journey does not require the restoration of all relationships. Safety must come first. Trust must be earned, not expected.
Family: The First Line of Healing—Or Hurt
When the family can be a safe space, it becomes the most powerful tool in a child’s healing. Even when trauma is part of the family history, transformation is possible. Survivors can become cycle-breakers. What matters is not perfection, but presence, consistency, and a willingness to learn.
Here’s how families can support a child coping with PTSD:
Stay Consistent. Routines build safety. Predictable daily patterns—like meals, bedtime, and school drop-off—send the message: “You can count on me.”
Validate Feelings. Avoid minimizing their emotions. Instead of “You’re fine,” try “That sounds really scary. I’m here now.”
Model Regulation. Children mirror adults. Your ability to remain calm during their outbursts teaches them how to self-regulate.
Educate Yourself. Learn the signs of trauma and how it manifests. The more you understand the “why,” the more empathy you’ll have for the “what.”
Avoid Retraumatization. Loud voices, physical punishment, or unexpected separation can retraumatize a child. Safety isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, too.
Seek Professional Support. Trauma-informed therapy, such as TF-CBT (Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), can be a game-changer. But it works best when the family is involved and aligned.
Healing is Not Linear—But It’s Possible
PTSD doesn’t mean a child is broken. It means their nervous system is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do in the face of danger: protect. But when that system gets stuck in survival mode, healing requires patience, compassion, and long-term support.
The Bottom Line
No child should have to heal alone. Family doesn’t need to be perfect—just present, informed, and willing. And when family has been part of the trauma, the greatest gift we can give is not just our love, but our accountability and willingness to change.
Eye-opening question to end: What if the greatest therapy a child ever receives isn’t from a clinic—but from the way their family chooses to show up, break cycles, and become the safe space they never had?
