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Releasing trauma is not a one-shot deal. It’s a process—a timeline where the past gradually morphs into the present, and something clearer emerges. We reconcile multiple versions of ourselves at once: the past self who experienced (or inherited) the trauma, the present self who feels its ongoing effects, the future self who has landed beyond it.

Somewhere on this journey, a subtle but profound shift must occur to fully reclaim who we are: from “I AM the victim” to “this happened to me.” At first glance, the difference seems semantic. It isn’t. It is structural. It determines whether we remain fused with a trauma—or fully release it.

“I AM the victim”

Any statement that begins with “I AM” is an identity statement. We believe that whatever follows this declaration is an innate, inherent aspect of our being—our core. And what we believe, we experience. When we say, “I AM the victim,” we weld the traumatic experience into our identity. The event is no longer something that occurred; it is part of who we are.

This reflects the way trauma embeds itself: buried in the unconscious, shaping our thoughts, behaviours, and coping mechanisms without our awareness. Like a bizarre toroidal alien, the trauma is inside us and we are inside it.

The problem with “I AM the victim” is that it unconsciously fosters a belief that we may be victimised and traumatised again in the future. Fearing for our future, we retreat deeper into coping mechanisms that have served us in the past.

Over time, these coping mechanisms form what psychoanalysis calls the ‘false self’: a protective shell built to survive unresolved pain. Early psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich calls it ‘emotional armouring’:

“An ‘armour’ surrounding the living organism… Its function in every case was to protect against unpleasurable experiences. However, it also entailed a reduction in the organism’s capacity for pleasure.” [1]

The false self is not inherently ‘bad’; it’s purely functional. It keeps us going. But it’s not who we truly are. It’s who we became in response to what we couldn’t process.

This is why trauma release often feels destabilising. As the emotional charge begins to dissolve, the coping mechanisms fall away. The identity built around them fractures. We may feel lighter—but also uncertain, as though we’ve lost something essential.

In truth, we’re not losing ourselves. We’re losing what we are not.

“This happened to me”

The shift to “this happened to me” introduces a crucial separation. It acknowledges the reality of the experience without keeping us in a victim state indefinitely. It puts boundaries around the trauma in time—past you—rather than letting it dominate the present.

The distinction becomes clearer as the trauma release timeline unfolds. Early in the process, past and present blur together. Past feelings are associated with present events and vice-versa. Intense emotions erupt; it feels as though the event is happening now. Gradually, a separation emerges. The feelings fade and our capacity to be present—to ‘show up’—increases. We are no longer stuck in the burned-out hulk of our car-crash past.

This is where identity is reclaimed.

Not as a fixed concept, but as a lived experience. A sense of being here, now, rather than trapped in what was. The more we allow the past to be processed—fully felt rather than resisted—the more space opens for the true self to reappear.

Importantly, this shift is not about denial or minimisation. It does not erase responsibility or invalidate pain. As I write in 12 Principles for clearing generational trauma, it’s not yours, but it is your responsibility. The event may not have been chosen, but we must recognise our participation in it—and the process of integrating it belongs to us.

Integration requires language that reflects reality—not identity (con)fusion.

  • “I AM the victim” keeps us stuck inside the trauma
  • “This happened to me” externalises it and lets us to move on

Over time, as the emotional backlog clears, something quiet but unmistakable takes its place: a self that is less armoured, less reactive, and more present. Not a new identity, but a truer one—no longer defined by what happened but informed by having lived through it.

That is the paradox of trauma release. We lose the identity built on survival—and in doing so, we recover the one that never needed it.

Next steps

For further resources on generational trauma, both free and paid, please click on this image.

Generational trauma

Photo by Hans Eiskonen on Unsplash


References

[1] Reich, Wilhelm; The Function of the Orgasm (1942)

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