By Intentional Spaces Psychotherapy


There are days when it feels like the world is too heavy to carry. News headlines, online arguments, daily microaggressions, and the quiet exhaustion of trying to exist in systems that weren’t built for you can all take a toll. When the world feels unsafe, it’s not just an emotional response; it’s a physiological one. Your body keeps score of every injustice, every time you’ve had to shrink, code switch, explain, or defend your right to simply be.


For many people, especially those who are Black, Brown, queer, trans, disabled, or living in marginalized bodies, the experience of systemic trauma is a daily reality. It’s not about one event; it’s the accumulation of small, ongoing harms that leave lasting marks on the nervous system. This kind of trauma doesn’t always come with a single, clear story. It builds slowly, beneath the surface, until fatigue and emotional numbness begin to feel normal.

What Is Systemic Trauma?

Systemic trauma refers to the collective impact of oppression, discrimination, and social inequities. It’s the pain that comes from being treated as “less than” by the very systems that are supposed to protect you, such as education, healthcare, policing, and housing. Unlike personal trauma, which might stem from a specific event, systemic trauma is chronic and cumulative. It embeds itself in the nervous system over time.


You might notice it in subtle ways: a racing heart when a police car passes, a tension that never leaves your shoulders, or the exhaustion that follows being misgendered or dismissed in a meeting. These experiences can create a state of constant vigilance, where your body is always preparing for the next harm. Living this way isn’t a personal flaw; it’s your nervous system doing its best to protect you in an unsafe world.


Systemic trauma also affects how you see yourself and how safe you feel in relationships. When your nervous system is constantly scanning for danger, even moments of calm can feel unfamiliar or suspicious. You might struggle to relax, feel disconnected from your body, or carry guilt when you try to rest. It’s not that you’re doing something wrong; it’s that you’ve learned, often through necessity, that the world doesn’t always respond kindly to your full presence.

The Weight of Identity Fatigue

Identity fatigue is the emotional and physical exhaustion that comes from navigating systems and spaces where you’re constantly “on.” It’s the weariness of having to translate your experiences, justify your feelings, or educate others about your existence.


Maybe you’ve felt it in conversations where your pain is minimized or your anger is labeled as “too much.” Maybe it’s in the unspoken pressure to appear calm, professional, or grateful even when you’re hurting. Over time, this fatigue can erode your sense of self and belonging. You start to wonder if you’re imagining things, if you’re the problem, or if your exhaustion is just weakness.


But you’re not imagining it. The constant need to self-protect is draining because it’s work, invisible work that your mind and body are doing all the time to keep you safe. Recognizing that truth is the first step toward reclaiming your energy and compassion for yourself.


Healing from identity fatigue involves unlearning the belief that you have to perform worthiness. It means remembering that your presence, your existence, and your rest are inherently valuable, even in a world that often forgets to affirm that truth.

How Therapy Can Help You Reclaim Safety

Therapy that acknowledges systemic trauma doesn’t ask you to “just relax” or “let go of fear.” It understands that your vigilance developed for a reason and that your body has been doing its best to keep you safe. In this kind of space, healing isn’t about dismissing your experiences, but about validating them and slowly rebuilding a sense of safety in your body.

 

Here’s how trauma-informed, identity-affirming therapy can support this process:

 

  • Honoring your lived experience: Therapy becomes a space where your story is believed, not questioned or minimized. Naming what happened, and what continues to happen, helps your body and mind integrate truth instead of carrying silent pain.

     

  • Reconnecting with your body: Through somatic awareness and grounding, you can begin to notice what safety feels like. Small moments such as a steady breath, an unclenched jaw, or a hand resting gently on your heart teach your body that calm can exist alongside alertness.

     

  • Practicing boundaries as healing: Boundaries become acts of self-protection and care, not selfishness. In therapy, you can explore how to say no, pause, or step back without guilt. Each boundary reinforces that your needs matter.

     

  • Releasing internalized narratives: Many people carry messages of unworthiness or hyper-independence rooted in systemic oppression. Therapy can help you untangle these beliefs and replace them with compassion, softness, and self-acceptance.

     

  • Relearning rest: For people who’ve spent years in survival mode, rest can feel unsafe. Therapy offers a place to practice stillness and to remember that rest isn’t a luxury; it’s a right.

     

 

Healing doesn’t mean pretending the world is suddenly safe. It means learning to feel safe enough to rest, connect, and experience joy even in a world that’s still learning how to hold you.

Rebuilding Connection and Resilience

Systemic trauma often isolates. It can make you feel disconnected from community, from hope, and even from your own body. Rebuilding resilience isn’t about becoming tougher; it’s about remembering that you were never meant to carry this weight alone.


Connection to self, to others, and to joy is one of the most powerful antidotes to systemic harm. That might look like joining a support group, building community with others who share your lived experience, or simply allowing yourself to rest without guilt. Each small act of care becomes a quiet rebellion against systems that taught you to hustle for worthiness.


In therapy, you might begin to practice new ways of being in relationships, relationships where you don’t have to explain, translate, or shrink. Where you can exist in your full humanity and complexity. Over time, these moments of authentic connection begin to rewrite the story your nervous system has been carrying, the one that says you are only safe when you’re small.


Reclaiming resilience is less about bouncing back and more about softening back into yourself. It’s learning that strength doesn’t always look like pushing through. Sometimes it looks like pausing, asking for help, or allowing yourself to be seen.

When You’re Ready, Reach Out, You’re Not Alone

If the world feels unsafe right now, you’re not weak for feeling it. You’re human. And you don’t have to hold that fear alone.


Therapy can be a space to rest, to be believed, and to slowly reconnect with a sense of safety that doesn’t depend on constant vigilance. A trauma-informed, affirming therapist can help you understand how systemic harm lives in the body and how healing can begin with small, intentional acts of care and boundaries.


You deserve relationships and spaces where you can breathe, speak your truth, and be met with empathy instead of judgment. The path toward safety doesn’t start with fixing the world; it starts with remembering that your experience matters, your body’s wisdom is real, and healing is possible, even here.


When you’re ready, reach out. You’re not alone in this work, and you were never meant to carry it all by yourself.

Belong

Meet Our Therapists

Laurel Lemohn

Laurel Lemohn

For deep-feelers navigating grief, trauma, relational hurt, or depression who want therapy that combines the body, the mind, and the breath.

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Kellie Mann

Kellie Mann

For queer, Black, or rural clients who want real connection, not performance, and therapy that makes room for all your trauma and all your truth.

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Savannah Delgado

Savannah Delgado

For anyone carrying trauma through generational wounds, hispanic/native identities, or chronic illness who needs therapy that honors all of who they are.

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Lujane Helwani

Lujane Helwani

For people unlearning people-pleasing, healing from power dynamics, navigating Muslim faith, and looking for a therapist who gets it because she’s lived it.

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Tianna Vanderwey

Tianna Vanderwey

For adults ready to process trauma, rebuild safety, and find empowerment—therapy that supports your journey with compassion and evidence-based care.

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Van Phan

Van Phan

For first-gen, neurodivergent, or queer folks trying to feel less alone in their story and more at home in themselves.

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Andrielle Vialpando Kristinat

Andrielle Vialpando Kristinat

For queer, neurodivergent, or Latinx young adults grieving, striving, or trying to find themselves—who need therapy that’s honest, grounded, and real.

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Caroline Colombo

Caroline Colombo

For LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent individuals seeking affirming support—therapy that understands your unique experiences and helps you navigate relationships and anxiety.

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Alicia Bindenagel

For adults ready to move through trauma, anxiety, or life transitions—therapy grounded in EMDR, CBT, and real-world healing.

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Alizea Pardo

For kids, teens, and young adults learning to regulate emotions, navigate change, or manage ADHD—therapy that brings mindfulness, curiosity, and care.

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