Is It Really Trauma? Rethinking Stress, Resilience, and Identity (Part 2)
Why calling everything ‘trauma’ hurts teens—and what the research on resillience reveals instead.
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This piece was originally created as an Essential Topics Video for my private parent membership group, but I wanted to share this more broadly, especially as a companion to Part 1 of this series: “'No Contact" as Self-Care: The Dangerous Logic of Cut-off Culture”
In that essay, we looked at how a culture of cutting off parents “for empowerment” can fracture family bonds, especially when everyday relational pain is misinterpreted as abuse. We explored the dangers of glorifying no-contact estrangement—how certain types of pseudo therapy speak can recast normal missteps in the parent-child relationship as proof of emotional trauma, and how this hyperbolic narrative leaves little room for grace or repair. Here, the way to deal with difficulties experiences in relationships is to turn away from them.
Now, in Part 2, we learn what actually supports healing from difficult experiences: resilience.
We talk a lot about trauma these days. It’s become almost expected that every difficulty, every disruption, and every emotional wound is described as “traumatic. “But what if we’ve stretched that word too far? What if some of what we’re calling trauma is actually just part of the normal human experience—and what if this misunderstanding is affecting how we create and respond to adolescent distress?
In video essays here and here, I highlighted the parallels between Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria (ROGD) and the repressed memories epidemic of the 80s and 90s. In that exploration, the concept of trauma came up over and over again, and I found myself wondering: how is therapy culture currently defining “trauma,” and is it helping or hurting us? As I was thinking about this question, several people recommended George Bonanno’s book The End of Trauma, which deals with the science of resilience. In addition to exploring themes from this book, today’s essay will look at research from a fascinating study on how our beliefs about stress can actually change our physiological response to it. And then we’ll apply these insights to the experiences of gender-distressed teens, their parents, and the professionals trying to help them.
Resilience and Survival vs Optimal Functioning
Before we proceed further, I want to draw a distinction. As a therapist, I strongly believe that making sense and meaning of our experiences (especially painful ones) and becoming more self-aware in our relationships will improve quality of life and deepen our connections with others. And potentially traumatic experiences that involve long-term suffering at the hands of people we are supposed to trust will likely have a different impact on us than a one-time random accident or disaster. That’s why the work of psychotherapy, with it’s highly individualized and humanized approach, can be such a life-changing and valuable project.
So I don’t mean to imply that nobody ever needs therapy or that nobody is negatively impacted by the difficult things they experience. Instead, I am discussing the science of resilience against the backdrop of popular claims that have become more and more common in “therapy culture” and pop culture more broadly: that difficult experiences “get stored in the body” in mysterious ways we’re not even aware of. And that past experiences, both big and small can have permanent, lasting, and deleterious impacts on our functioning. These popular ideas about trauma have a bleak and fatalistic quality. They can tell us that we’re damaged and we don’t even know it. They can make us feel hypervigilant and broken. So, in contrast to this popular (but misinformed) trauma narrative, let’s see what the science of resilience really tells us about how most people respond to very difficult and challenging experiences.
What If Most People Are Actually Resilient?
Bonanno, a grief and trauma researcher, noticed something surprising in his long-term studies: the most common response to potentially traumatic events wasn’t PTSD or prolonged suffering. It was resilience. Even after 9/11, researchers expected a tsunami of long-term mental health problems. What they found instead was that most people, in the long run, were okay.
This lines up with something we often forget: humans throughout history have faced unthinkable hardships—war, famine, natural disaster—and yet, generation after generation, we’ve adapted and moved forward. Resilience, it turns out, is the norm, not the exception.
In Bonanno’s book, he describes the flexibility mindset. This is a set of traits that consistently predicts resilient outcomes. People with a flexibility mindset demonstrate three powerful qualities:
Optimism about the future – Even amid chaos or fear, they maintain a sense that things can get better.
A challenge orientation – They view adversity not as a death sentence, but as a problem to solve, something to face and work through.
Confidence in one’s ability to cope – This isn’t toxic positivity; it’s the grounded belief that "I can handle what comes my way."
These qualities, Bonanno observed, aren’t just innate—they can be cultivated, especially when modeled and supported by others.
He also offers a practical tool for navigating hardship called the flexibility sequence. It’s a three-part pathway that helps people move through difficulty with greater adaptability:
Context Sensitivity – This is the ability to ask: What is happening to me right now? What am I feeling? What does this specific moment require of me? It’s focused, present, and manageable. It doesn’t demand that we figure out everything at once. It invites a small, grounded step forward.
Repertoire – Once we know what’s happening, we can ask: What tools are available to me? What can I do right now? And here’s the key: the best tool is often contextual. Distraction might work one day, direct confrontation the next. Even what Bonanno calls "coping ugly"—using a short-term, imperfect method like venting, retreating, or even momentary avoidance—can serve a purpose when used strategically. The important thing is not to get stuck. We need a variety of tools, not one-size-fits-all solutions.
Feedback Monitoring – After acting, we pause to ask: Is what I’m doing helping? Am I moving in the direction I want to go? This stage is about course correction, noticing when a tool is no longer working, and choosing a new one.
Bonanno’s framework doesn’t ask people to be superhuman. It acknowledges that we will all face pain and difficulty—but it offers a way to move through those moments with agency and clarity. For parents in crisis, and especially for families navigating gender distress, this framework can be a lifeline.
These ideas are not just academic. They are immediately applicable to daily parenting decisions, emotional regulation, and how you model strength and self-trust to your children.
Your Beliefs About Stress Matter More Than the Stress Itself
A 2017 study examined how people’s mindset about stress impacted their actual physiological response. Participants were shown short videos that framed stress as either helpful or harmful. Then they were put through a stressful mock interview, and researchers measured their biological responses.
Those who had been told stress could be helpful not only felt better—they produced higher levels of DHEAs (hormones that counteract the effects of cortisol), performed better cognitively, and even noticed positive social cues more accurately. In contrast, those primed to view stress as harmful were more likely to spiral and miss positive feedback.
Stress itself isn’t always the problem. It’s our perception that shapes what happens next.
So What Does This Have to Do With Gender-Distressed Teens?
A lot.
Right now, many teens are operating under a mindset of fragility. Social media, school culture, and even well-meaning parents have taught them to see discomfort as danger, and stress as harmful. With a plethora of mental health diagnoses, giftedness labels, and other special needs, a child’s perceived exceptionality and fragility can become the center of the family’s orbit. If your child has been under the microscope for many years (for a number of different legitimate reasons), this can send the message that he or she is too vulnerable and incapable of being resilient. Furthermore, rather than encouraging adaptive coping, much of social media messaging promotes "co-rumination"—a peer and post-fueled loop of distress, disclosure, suffering for the audience, and validation.
Some teens may be engaging in what Bonanno calls "coping ugly": short-term strategies that help them survive a tough moment but don’t serve them long-term. Adopting a trans identity, using a binder, or cutting off social ties might provide temporary relief—but for many young people, these aren’t sustainable or healthy solutions (or even authentic ones, at that).
We also have to consider how providers are framing things. The infamous "Would you rather have a dead daughter or a live son?" is the ultimate example of a stress-is-debilitating message. Puberty will literally weaken and destroy your child. One of the most egregious and unethical versions of the fragility narrative. And it’s an outright lie.
And amidst all of this, there’s you—the parents.
Parents Need Resilience, Too
This journey is often terrifying. I hear from parents all the time who feel helpless, isolated, and afraid to act. But resignation is not the same thing as resilience. Even if your child is already medicalizing, you still have a role to play.
You can return to the flexibility mindset:
Can I stay optimistic about the future, even if I’m afraid?
Can I believe in my ability to cope, even with an outcome I don’t want?
Can I take honest stock of what’s working and what’s not?
Sometimes that means having a hard conversation. Sometimes it means setting boundaries, even if your child becomes upset. And sometimes it means finding support for yourself—because parenting in this landscape is not something you should do alone.
If this resonated with you...
This post is a small window into the kind of work we do in my parent membership group. Each month I share an in-depth Essential Topics Video like this one, plus curated resources and the option to join a live Q+A session where you can ask me questions and receive tailored support.
If you’re facing a situation that feels overwhelming—or just want to parent with more clarity and courage—I’d love to help. You can set up a private consultation with me here or learn more about the parent group here.
For a truly personalized and intimate experience where you can connect (“in real life”) with me and other likeminded families, join our November in-person retreat, Anchored, near Austin Texas.
And lastly, my new YouTube channel for gender-questioning adolescents has officially launched. Check out The Metaphor of Gender here, and download my parent guide here for tips on getting these videos onto your child’s radar without conflict or pressure.
Thank you for reading.
If you need flexible mindset in ordrer to survive and heal from trauma, or just go through difficult experiences without too much damage, then maybe that's why so many neurodivergent people with quite rigid mindset get traumatised by adverse life experiences.
I don't agree that recognizing how trauma, stress, grief, etc. affects the body is "bleak and fatalistic." Instead, it can actually provide a roadmap for resilience, if people are willing to engage with how their body is responding. Get moving, see a massage therapist, see a competent EMDR specialist, etc. In other words, working with your body's signals can be an opportunity to empower yourself to move beyond difficult experiences. And this might be harder for autistic people who may have decreased interoception abilities.