The Weight of Being Seen
If you're reading this, you might know the exhausting experience of living under what feels like constant surveillance—not necessarily from cameras or authorities, but from an internalised sense that you're always being evaluated, measured, and found lacking. This invisible jury follows you everywhere, whispering about what you should be doing, how you should look, what counts as acceptable.
For those carrying complex trauma, this feeling runs deeper than social anxiety. It's woven into the very fabric of how we learned to survive. We became experts at reading rooms, anticipating reactions, shape-shifting to meet others' expectations—all while losing touch with what we actually wanted, needed, or valued.
The philosopher Michel Foucault wrote about how power structures don't just control us through force, but by making us feel constantly observed and judged. When trauma happens early and repeatedly, especially in relationships that were supposed to be safe, we internalise this surveillance system. We become our own prison guards, our own harsh critics.
But; You can learn to step outside this panopticon. You can build a sense of self that isn't dependent on external validation or approval.
If you're reading this, you might know the exhausting experience of living under what feels like constant surveillance—not necessarily from cameras or authorities, but from an internalised sense that you're always being evaluated, measured, and found lacking. This invisible jury follows you everywhere, whispering about what you should be doing, how you should look, what counts as acceptable.
For those carrying complex trauma, this feeling runs deeper than social anxiety. It's woven into the very fabric of how we learned to survive. We became experts at reading rooms, anticipating reactions, shape-shifting to meet others' expectations—all while losing touch with what we actually wanted, needed, or valued.
The philosopher Michel Foucault wrote about how power structures don't just control us through force, but by making us feel constantly observed and judged. When trauma happens early and repeatedly, especially in relationships that were supposed to be safe, we internalise this surveillance system. We become our own prison guards, our own harsh critics.
But; You can learn to step outside this panopticon. You can build a sense of self that isn't dependent on external validation or approval.
Starting with Your Nervous System
Before we can challenge old patterns or craft new stories, we need to help your nervous system feel safe enough to explore. Dr. Stephen Porges' research on the polyvagal theory shows us that our autonomic nervous system is constantly scanning for safety or threat. When we've experienced complex trauma, our system often gets stuck in states of hypervigilance (fight/flight) or shutdown (freeze).
Small steps toward regulation:
Reclaiming Your Agency
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) as an example offers us a powerful concept: psychological flexibility. This means being able to stay present with whatever you're experiencing—including difficult emotions or memories—whilst still moving towards what matters to you.
Agency isn't about controlling outcomes or never feeling afraid. It's about recognising that even in difficult circumstances, you have choices about how you respond. Sometimes that choice is as simple as deciding to be curious instead of critical about what you're experiencing.
Questions to reconnect with your agency:
Discovering Your Preferred Story
Narrative therapy reminds us that we are not our problems—we are complex beings who have experienced problems. The stories we tell about ourselves matter immensely, especially when trauma has convinced us that we are fundamentally flawed, dangerous, or unworthy.
But you get to be the author of your own story. Not the only author—we're all co-creating with others and with circumstances beyond our control—but you have significant authorial power over the meaning you make of your experiences.
Exploring your preferred story:
Good Enough Is Revolutionary
Psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott introduced the concept of the "good enough" parent—someone who meets a child's needs adequately without being perfect. This idea is radical for those of us who learned that anything less than perfection was dangerous.
Good enough parenting of yourself means:
The Practice of Becoming
Building a self after complex trauma isn't a destination—it's an ongoing practice. Some days you'll feel more solid in who you are. Other days the old surveillance system will activate, and you'll feel like you're performing for an invisible audience again. Both are normal parts of the process.
What matters is developing the capacity to notice when you've slipped back into old patterns and gently guide yourself back to what feels authentic. It's learning to ask: "What do I actually want?" and crucially, trusting that your preferences matter.
You Are Already Enough
The self you're building isn't something you need to construct from scratch. You're excavating, uncovering, and reclaiming parts of yourself that were always there but had to go underground for safety. Your curiosity, your capacity for joy, your unique way of seeing the world, your ability to love—these weren't destroyed by trauma, even if they were buried for a while.
You are not a project to be fixed. You are a person learning to live authentically in your own skin, on your own terms. That's epic work, and you're already doing it just by showing up, just by wondering if something different is possible.
The watchful gaze that once felt so threatening can gradually transform into your own gentle, curious attention—the kind that notices without judgment, that sees without demanding change, that simply witnesses you as you are: complex, resilient, and worthy of your own compassion.
Remember: Healing isn't linear, and you don't have to do it alone. Professional support can be invaluable in this journey, especially from therapists who understand complex trauma and these therapeutic approaches.
Before we can challenge old patterns or craft new stories, we need to help your nervous system feel safe enough to explore. Dr. Stephen Porges' research on the polyvagal theory shows us that our autonomic nervous system is constantly scanning for safety or threat. When we've experienced complex trauma, our system often gets stuck in states of hypervigilance (fight/flight) or shutdown (freeze).
Small steps toward regulation:
- Notice your breath without trying to change it. Sometimes just witnessing is enough.
- Find your feet on the ground. Feel the support beneath you.
- Look around and connect with each of your classic 5 senses - Hearing, Taste, Touch, Sight, Smell.
- Practice the gentle exhale—let your out-breath be slightly longer than your in-breath.
Reclaiming Your Agency
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) as an example offers us a powerful concept: psychological flexibility. This means being able to stay present with whatever you're experiencing—including difficult emotions or memories—whilst still moving towards what matters to you.
Agency isn't about controlling outcomes or never feeling afraid. It's about recognising that even in difficult circumstances, you have choices about how you respond. Sometimes that choice is as simple as deciding to be curious instead of critical about what you're experiencing.
Questions to reconnect with your agency:
- What would you try if you knew you couldn't fail?
- What would you do if no one was watching?
- What small step could you take today toward something that feels meaningful to you?
- How do you want to treat yourself in this moment?
Discovering Your Preferred Story
Narrative therapy reminds us that we are not our problems—we are complex beings who have experienced problems. The stories we tell about ourselves matter immensely, especially when trauma has convinced us that we are fundamentally flawed, dangerous, or unworthy.
But you get to be the author of your own story. Not the only author—we're all co-creating with others and with circumstances beyond our control—but you have significant authorial power over the meaning you make of your experiences.
Exploring your preferred story:
- What values have you held onto despite everything you've been through?
- When have you surprised yourself with your resilience or creativity?
- What would people who truly see and appreciate you say about your character?
- If your trauma had to shrink down and take up appropriate space in your life story (important but not dominant), what else would become visible?
Good Enough Is Revolutionary
Psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott introduced the concept of the "good enough" parent—someone who meets a child's needs adequately without being perfect. This idea is radical for those of us who learned that anything less than perfection was dangerous.
Good enough parenting of yourself means:
- Noticing your needs without immediately dismissing them as selfish
- Meeting some of your needs some of the time (this is actually excellent!)
- Forgiving yourself for being human and therefore imperfect
- Celebrating small wins and incremental progress
- Holding yourself with the same compassion you'd offer a good friend
The Practice of Becoming
Building a self after complex trauma isn't a destination—it's an ongoing practice. Some days you'll feel more solid in who you are. Other days the old surveillance system will activate, and you'll feel like you're performing for an invisible audience again. Both are normal parts of the process.
What matters is developing the capacity to notice when you've slipped back into old patterns and gently guide yourself back to what feels authentic. It's learning to ask: "What do I actually want?" and crucially, trusting that your preferences matter.
You Are Already Enough
The self you're building isn't something you need to construct from scratch. You're excavating, uncovering, and reclaiming parts of yourself that were always there but had to go underground for safety. Your curiosity, your capacity for joy, your unique way of seeing the world, your ability to love—these weren't destroyed by trauma, even if they were buried for a while.
You are not a project to be fixed. You are a person learning to live authentically in your own skin, on your own terms. That's epic work, and you're already doing it just by showing up, just by wondering if something different is possible.
The watchful gaze that once felt so threatening can gradually transform into your own gentle, curious attention—the kind that notices without judgment, that sees without demanding change, that simply witnesses you as you are: complex, resilient, and worthy of your own compassion.
Remember: Healing isn't linear, and you don't have to do it alone. Professional support can be invaluable in this journey, especially from therapists who understand complex trauma and these therapeutic approaches.
References
Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and punish: The birth of the prison. Pantheon Books.
Foucault, M. (1982). The subject and power. Critical Inquiry, 8(4), 777-795.
Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K. D., & Wilson, K. G. (2011). Acceptance and commitment therapy: The process and practice of mindful change (2nd ed.). Guilford Press.
Hayes, S. C., Luoma, J. B., Bond, F. W., Masuda, A., & Lillis, J. (2006). Acceptance and commitment therapy: Model, processes and outcomes. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 44(1), 1-25.
Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and recovery: The aftermath of violence--from domestic abuse to political terror (3rd ed.). Basic Books.
Porges, S. W. (2011). The polyvagal theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W. W. Norton & Company.Porges, S. W. (2018). Polyvagal theory: A primer. In S. W. Porges & D. A. Dana (Eds.), Clinical applications of the polyvagal theory: The emergence of polyvagal-informed therapies (pp. 50-69). W. W. Norton & Company.
Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
White, M. (2007). Maps of narrative practice. W. W. Norton & Company.
White, M., & Epston, D. (1990). Narrative means to therapeutic ends. W. W. Norton & Company.
Winnicott, D. W. (1971). Playing and reality. Tavistock Publications.
Winnicott, D. W. (1965). The maturational processes and the facilitating environment: Studies in the theory of emotional development. International Universities Press.
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