Trauma is not Destiny

In every culture, there are truths we find too unbearable to face, so we turn away. One of the deepest of these truths is how profoundly our society fails women who carry trauma. Their suffering is too often silenced, minimized, or pathologized. When a woman seeks justice, she is met with suspicion. When she seeks healing, she is met with barriers. When she dares to name her pain, she is told she is “too much.”

This is a collective refusal to look at what we, as a society, have inflicted and allowed. Trauma does not arise in a vacuum. It is not an individual weakness, but the imprint of an environment families, institutions, cultures that did not or would not protect. When women stand in that vulnerable truth, the gaze of society frequently turns away, or worse, turns against them.

I have learned again and again that trauma is not only what happens to us; it is also what fails to happen: the compassion not extended, the justice not given, the solidarity denied. For women, this absence is amplified. Our structures of care, our legal systems, and our communities still struggle to see women as fully credible, fully human, and fully worthy of support.

Women persist despite this. They carry not only their own wounds but also the unhealed wounds of generations. Their silence has protected families, institutions, and reputations. Silence may shield the powerful, yet it is a slow death for the soul. Healing requires voice, recognition, and presence. It requires listening not to judge or to fix, but to witness.

A society that values life must begin by creating spaces where women’s truths are not only heard but honored. Their pain cannot be explained away; it must be met with compassion. Justice cannot remain a distant promise; it must be embodied in the ways we show up for one another.

Trauma is not destiny. Healing is possible when we are willing to turn toward the very realities we have avoided for far too long. We must break free of the threads that hold us back and step forward.