Understanding trauma: wearing trauma as what can only be described as a crown (a mediator’s perspective)

 

As a qualified mediator specialising in trauma-informed mediation and trauma-informed legal practice, I’ve witnessed firsthand how deeply our past experiences shape present conflicts. Over years of facilitating difficult conversations between people in crisis, I’ve come to understand something fundamental: the way we conceptualise our psychological wounds profoundly influences our capacity to resolve disputes, rebuild relationships, and move forward with our lives.

 

Reframing our understanding of psychological impact 

There’s a crucial distinction we must make in understanding how adverse experiences affect us. When we experience events that overwhelm our capacity to cope, our nervous system doesn’t simply “break” or become defective. Instead, it adapts. These adaptations represent sophisticated survival mechanisms – biological responses encoded in our neurobiology to protect us from similar threats in the future.

Consider what happens during mediation when one party suddenly becomes defensive at what seems like a minor comment. Their reaction isn’t irrational; it’s informed. Their nervous system has detected a pattern it recognises as dangerous, based on previous experience. The hypervigilance, the rapid emotional escalation, the impulse to withdraw—these aren’t character flaws. They’re adaptive responses that once served a protective function.

Research in neurobiology and trauma studies confirms this perspective. Dr. Bessel van der Kolk’s groundbreaking work, particularly his book The Body Keeps the Score¹ has demonstrated that traumatic experiences fundamentally alter brain architecture and nervous system functioning. The amygdala becomes hyperactive, the prefrontal cortex’s regulatory capacity diminishes, and the body literally remembers what the mind may have tried to forget. These are physiological realities, not psychological weaknesses.

When someone in mediation exhibits what might appear as “overreaction” or perhaps becoming flooded with emotion during discussions about child custody, or shutting down entirely when financial pressures are mentioned—they’re not being difficult. Their autonomic nervous system is responding to perceived threat based on historical data. Understanding this transforms how we approach conflict resolution.

 

 The dangerous misappropriation of trauma language

However, as trauma-informed practice has rightfully gained prominence, we face an emerging problem that threatens to undermine legitimate understanding: the misuse and misappropriation of trauma terminology.

Recent scholarship on this phenomenon reveals troubling trends. Research examining what scholars term “trauma inflation”² has identified the tendency to label increasingly ordinary negative experiences as traumatic, thereby diluting the term’s clinical meaning and potentially undermining those with genuine trauma histories.

Some individuals have begun wearing trauma as what I can only describe as a crown – a badge of identity that confers special status, explains and justifies all behaviour, and demands accommodation without reciprocal responsibility. This represents a fundamental misunderstanding of what trauma actually is and how it functions.

Even more concerning is the phenomenon of secondary gain, a clinical term describing situations where maintaining symptoms or a victim identity provides psychological, social, or material benefits. Research in forensic psychology and behavioural medicine³ has extensively documented this dynamic. When someone consistently uses their “trauma” to avoid accountability, manipulate situations, gain sympathy, or extract concessions without genuine therapeutic engagement, they’re not describing trauma—they’re engaging in secondary gain.

Dr. Frank Ochberg’s work on victim psychology⁴ distinguishes clearly between genuine traumatic response and what he terms “victim identity.” While true trauma survivors struggle with symptoms they desperately wish to overcome, those operating from secondary gain actively, though often unconsciously, maintain their victim status because it serves a function. The distinction matters enormously.

In mediation, I’ve observed this pattern: A person claims trauma prevents them from engaging in reasonable discourse, yet selectively demonstrates complete emotional regulation when it serves their interests. They cite trauma to avoid difficult conversations, but show no parallel engagement in actual trauma treatment. They demand accommodations for their trauma responses while simultaneously rejecting any suggestion that healing is possible or desirable.

This isn’t trauma. This is strategic deployment of trauma language for positional advantage.

 

Academic literature on this phenomenon has proliferated in recent years. Research has examined what scholars term “competitive victimhood” in contemporary discourse, noting how trauma narratives can be weaponised for social capital. Similarly, research published in professional journals has explored how some individuals with certain personality characteristics may adopt trauma language not as genuine self-description but as interpersonal strategy.

The consequences of this misappropriation are severe. First, it creates cynicism around legitimate trauma responses, making it harder for genuine survivors to receive appropriate support. Second, it prevents the person engaging in this behaviour from developing genuine emotional resilience and accountability. Third, it corrupts therapeutic and mediation processes, turning them into forums for performance rather than healing.

 

Distinguishing adaptation from identity

The critical distinction lies here: genuine trauma responses are adaptive mechanisms people actively work to understand and, where possible, modify. They represent information the nervous system holds that can, through proper therapeutic intervention, be processed and integrated.

Secondary gain, by contrast, involves calcification of victim identity. The person becomes invested in their trauma story not as a chapter to be understood and moved beyond, but as the defining narrative that explains, justifies, and excuses all behaviour indefinitely.

In trauma-informed mediation, I regularly witness the difference. Genuine trauma survivors often feel ashamed of their responses. They want to engage more effectively but find themselves hijacked by their nervous system. They’re willing to explore therapeutic interventions. They demonstrate moments of resilience and agency even while struggling with genuine symptoms.

Those operating from secondary gain show different patterns. They lead with their trauma narrative. They resist suggestions for healing or skill-building because it would threaten the identity they’ve constructed. They show remarkable situational variability in their symptoms—incapacitated when accountability is requested, fully functional when pursuing their own goals.

 

The mediator’s role in trauma-informed practice

As a trauma-informed mediator, my role requires holding multiple truths simultaneously. I must:

Recognise genuine nervous system adaptation when I see it, creating space for people whose bodies are genuinely responding to perceived threat even when current circumstances don’t objectively warrant that response. This means slowing down processes, managing stimulation levels, and building genuine safety into the mediation environment.

Maintain appropriate boundaries around what constitutes trauma versus what represents strategic deployment of trauma language. This doesn’t mean I diagnose anyone (I am surely not qualified to do that); it means I observe behavioural patterns and respond to what’s actually happening in the room rather than what’s being claimed.

Hold parties accountable while remaining compassionate. Trauma-informed doesn’t mean trauma-excusing. People can simultaneously have genuine nervous system adaptations AND be responsible for their choices and behaviour. In fact, recovery from trauma requires precisely this dual awareness.

Distinguish between accommodation and enabling. Appropriate accommodation means adjusting process to work with nervous system realities. Enabling means accepting secondary gain dynamics that prevent genuine resolution and personal growth.

 

Information versus identity: the path forward

The most powerful reframe available to us is this: trauma represents information, not identity.

When we understand our nervous system responses as data about past experience rather than evidence of permanent brokenness, we create space for growth without demanding we abandon self-compassion. The hypervigilance that once kept us safe in genuinely dangerous circumstances can be acknowledged, honoured for its protective function, and (through proper therapeutic intervention by a professional) gradually updated with new information about current safety.

This perspective fundamentally differs from trauma as identity. When trauma becomes who we are rather than what happened to us, we lose access to agency. We become passive recipients of our history rather than active participants in our future.

In mediation, this distinction transforms outcomes. When parties understand their reactions as information rather than destiny, they can begin to work with their nervous systems rather than being controlled by them. They can notice when they’re being triggered, communicate that reality, and employ co-regulation strategies without using their trauma history as justification for harmful behaviour toward others.

 

Clinical and ethical implications

The misuse of trauma language creates specific challenges for professionals working in therapeutic, legal, and mediation contexts. We must develop more sophisticated frameworks for distinguishing genuine trauma response from secondary gain without falling into the trap of dismissing or minimising real suffering.

The ethical imperative is clear: we serve neither genuine trauma survivors nor society at large when we fail to distinguish between trauma as neurobiological reality and trauma as social performance. The former deserves comprehensive support, accommodation, and therapeutic intervention. The latter requires different responses—boundary-setting, accountability, and confrontation of the secondary gains maintaining the pattern.

 

Practical applications in mediation and legal settings

In my practice, trauma-informed mediation means several concrete things:

Pre-mediation assessment that includes attention to trauma history but also to patterns of trauma narrative deployment. How does the person describe their trauma? Do they demonstrate engagement with healing, or is their identity calcified around victimhood? How situationally variable are their symptoms?

Process design that accounts for nervous system realities while maintaining appropriate expectations for participation. This might mean shorter sessions, clear agreements about emotional escalation, and planned breaks—but not unlimited accommodation that prevents any difficult conversation.

Integration of very basic psychoeducation about nervous system function. When parties understand how trauma actually works neurobiologically, it often reduces both shame and secondary gain. The person with genuine trauma feels less defective; the person deploying trauma language for advantage finds it less effective when everyone understands what genuine trauma response actually looks like.

Collaboration with trauma specialists and mental health professional when appropriate. My role as mediator isn’t to treat trauma, but to recognise when unresolved trauma or secondary gain dynamics prevent productive mediation and make appropriate referrals.

As a mediator, I’ve seen what becomes possible when people make this shift. When someone stops relating to their history as evidence of permanent brokenness and instead sees it as information their nervous system holds, they begin to access agency they didn’t know they possessed. They can work with their triggers rather than being controlled by them. They can take responsibility for their behaviour while honouring the reality of their struggles.

Conversely, I’ve watched mediation after mediation fail when secondary gain dynamics go unaddressed. The person who has calcified their identity around victimhood cannot engage in the mutual accountability that conflict resolution requires. They cannot afford resolution, because resolution would threaten the victim identity that has become their primary source of meaning and social positioning.

Trauma is indeed information—crucial data that our nervous systems encode to protect us from future harm. Understanding this transforms how we approach conflict, healing, and growth. It removes shame while restoring agency. It honours our protective mechanisms while creating space for updating them with new information about present reality.

But this understanding only serves us if we maintain clear boundaries around what constitutes genuine trauma response versus strategic deployment of trauma language for secondary gain. The former deserves our full support and sophisticated intervention. The latter requires something different: compassionate confrontation that invites people back to accountability and genuine healing.

 

As trauma-informed practitioners, our responsibility is not merely to accommodate trauma but to recognise it accurately, support genuine healing, and refuse to enable dynamics that keep people stuck in victim identity that serves them in the short term while preventing the very resolution and growth they claim to seek.

The quiet part that needs saying loudly is this: trauma-informed practice done right creates more accountability, not less. It provides context for behaviour while maintaining expectations for growth.

 

 

1. The Body Keeps the Score (https://www.besselvanderkolk.com/resources/the-body-keeps-the-score)
2. Trauma inflation (https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/10720537.2021.2006117)
3. Forensic psychology and behavioural medicine (https://www.apa.org/pubs/journals/features/law-h0000144.pdf)
4. Victim psychology

(https://gifrinc.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/The-Counting-Method-in-20-Questions.pdf)

5. Competitive victimhood (https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/1745691620984452)