The past is dead (and haunting)

I’ve always been a storyteller. It’s an intrinsic part of who I am. I can take the most ordinary event and craft it into a cohesive narrative, complete with a beginning, a climax, and a resolution. For me, life has always made more sense when viewed through the lens of story.

And, as it turns out, your life is a story too—a profound narrative that chronicles how you came to be the person you are today and, more intriguingly, how it can shape the person you are becoming. Yet, most of us avoid truly delving into this story. When we introduce ourselves, it’s rare that we reflect deeply on our personal histories. Instead, we offer superficial details—where we went to school, or our thoughts on current events—without acknowledging the complex, formative experiences that have shaped us.

But here's the truth: understanding your past is critical. Not just as a way to better understand who you are, but as a means of healing and reconnecting with your deeper self. When you approach your past with honesty, self-compassion, and an open heart, it can unlock a profound sense of wholeness. This isn’t just a nice idea—it’s essential if you’re seeking genuine personal transformation.

The work of healing past trauma is the cornerstone of your journey toward Wholeness. I’m not concerned with being repetitive, nor do I mind invoking terms like "inner child" or "shadow self" ad nauseam. These are not just buzzwords; they are keys to understanding the intricacies of your emotional landscape. You must do the work—whether you like it or not. There is no bypassing this step.

Failing to confront your past, however, leads to Trauma Blocking. This is the act of denying or dissociating from our painful experiences in an effort to avoid the discomfort of negative emotions. The problem with this is simple: unresolved trauma doesn’t stay buried. It festers, resurfacing over and over again in your present, shaping the very life you are trying to live. Until you acknowledge and process it, you will continue to repeat the same patterns.

This, my friends, is the crisis of disconnection we are collectively facing. We live in a state of perpetual avoidance, suppressing emotions and experiences that require attention. This creates an environment where we function on autopilot—disconnected from our true selves, unfulfilled, and consistently dissatisfied. We pour money into therapies and self-help resources, yet still struggle to break free from this endless cycle of numbness.

I had my own reckoning with this when I began seeing my current therapist. He pointed out that my personality seemed "egosyntonic" with the painful experiences of my childhood, meaning that I was unconsciously recreating the emotional patterns I developed as a child. To address this, we employed psychodynamic therapy, designed to help me revisit my past in a structured and meaningful way. And yet, when I attempted to speak about my trauma, I did so with remarkable emotional detachment.

Dr. J would prod, asking, “That must have felt awful. Can you recall the emotions from that moment?”

My response, flat and emotionless, was always the same: “I felt nothing.”

“Nothing? Can you reflect on how you feel about it now?” he would press gently. Again, my answer was the same—“Nothing.”

It became apparent that I was dissociating. I wasn’t doing this consciously; it was my ego’s defense mechanism. We often vilify the ego, but in truth, it’s merely the repository for all the defense mechanisms we’ve developed over time to protect ourselves from pain. My childhood, fraught with emotional turmoil, had taught me to shut off my emotions during moments of high stress. And over the years, I’d perfected the art of avoidance—through distraction, overworking, and even self-destructive behaviors.

Now, you may be asking yourself: if dissociation helps avoid pain, why bother dealing with it?

The answer lies in the fact that trauma blocking inevitably leads to self-destructive behaviors. These actions, which may seem comforting in the short term, arise from unresolved emotional pain and subconscious beliefs of unworthiness. This is not just theoretical—this is a real, visceral phenomenon that dictates much of our adult behavior.

Ask yourself: when was the last time you engaged in a behavior that made you feel ashamed, guilty, or left you with long-term consequences? Perhaps it was binge drinking, overeating, engaging in reckless behavior, or overspending. What preceded that? I can all but guarantee that the underlying cause wasn’t a spontaneous desire for self-sabotage, but an unconscious attempt to self-medicate or avoid confronting deeper emotional wounds.

In my case, the unresolved pain from my inner child manifested as a belief that I was unworthy of love, respect, or success. So, I engaged in self-sabotage—seeking validation from external sources, people-pleasing, and even attracting toxic relationships that affirmed my deepest, most self-destructive beliefs. It wasn’t until I realized these actions were the subconscious cries of my inner child that I was able to pivot. I began to turn inward, nurturing the parts of myself that needed love and healing, rather than seeking it from external sources.

The truth is, self-awareness cannot coexist with self-destruction. Once you develop a genuine understanding of your subconscious patterns, you break the cycle. One of the simplest ways to begin this process is through self-reflection. Journaling can help you examine your daily behaviors and identify the emotional triggers behind them. Did you overeat today? Engage in a toxic relationship dynamic? Why did you do that? What emotion were you trying to avoid or suppress? By consistently reflecting on your actions, you create space for conscious awareness to emerge.

Equally important is working with your inner child. The wounded inner child is where the core of our emotional pain resides. This part of us holds the keys to understanding many of our insecurities, fears, and life patterns. Consider: when you face rejection—be it in love, work, or personal goals—do you feel a rush of old feelings of inadequacy? I know I do. Recognizing this connection between childhood trauma and adult behavior is the first step toward healing. The moment I acknowledged that my destructive behaviors were rooted in unmet needs from my inner child, I began the process of shifting my energy toward self-compassion and self-nurturing.

When we reconnect with the fragmented parts of ourselves, we begin to unravel the root causes of our fears, insecurities, and sabotaging behaviors. This is where true healing occurs.

So, here’s the moral of the story: things get better if you do the work. Yes, you can become the highest version of yourself. Yes, you can stop sabotaging authentic connections. Yes, you can rediscover who you really are.

The past may be dead, but your future is very much alive.

Sending love and light (with a touch of tough love),
Ayla