Recovery from Past Wounds is a Step Toward Autonomy

When it comes to recovery from past wounds, the ultimate goal is not merely healing but reclaiming autonomy - a sense of ownership over our lives and our decisions.

It was April of 2016 when I first heard this word - autonomy - and it activated one of my complexes - yes, I have many. This one was about how smart I actually am - because I didn’t know the word and I couldn’t quite understand it, despite the fact that it was first introduced to me in my native language. Somehow I knew it in my body, but my mind had trouble understanding it. And it took me several years of professional training for therapists who want to work with trauma to actually get it - get it.

So this is my attempt to explain in writing - in a language which is not my native one (hello, second complex of non-native English speakers) - what autonomy means.

It’s not just independence or self-reliance. Autonomy is about self-governance - the ability to make choices that align with our values, choices that honor our authentic needs, and choices that move us towards our goals. It’s what helps us live free from the invisible strings of past wounds and any type of pressure exerted by external expectations. Autonomy is the freedom to say, “This is who I am, and this is the life I choose to build.” It’s living in harmony with the life you choose to live; it’s being unapologetically yourself - but in a non-asshole way.

Recovering from past wounds often feels daunting because those wounds don’t remain isolated in time. They echo. They show up in our daily habits - or our lack of capacity to build new ones. For instance, you might find yourself stuck in cycles of procrastination, unable to initiate tasks that matter most to you because you are subconsciously stuck in self-sabotage mode. Or, you might notice how patterns of perfectionism creep into your work, stemming from a childhood where only flawless achievements earned validation. You might not even know why this is happening and just live with the daily frustration that it does. These are your past wounds that haven’t been properly addressed. 

They also show up in our relationships - the way we obsess over someone, the way we’re anxious, the way we can’t fully connect, the way we’re isolating and self-betraying. For example, you might repeatedly overextend yourself in friendships, unable to say “no” due to a deep-seated fear of abandonment. Or perhaps you find it difficult to trust a partner, constantly doubting their intentions because of past betrayals that left emotional scars. You might have even convinced yourself that you don’t need anyone because you can’t fathom being hurt and disappointed, again. 

And these wounds show up even in how we perceive ourselves: too fat, too skinny, too stupid, not funny enough, not interesting enough, unworthy of love, lacking confidence, skill, ability, attitude, personality, or capacity. All this judgment and criticism is something you’ve learned as a consequence of your past. Sorry to disappoint you, even this you didn’t invent yourself - you just took it over from your primary caretakers.

Often in our 1 on 1 sessions, people describe their recovery process as going in circles or peeling back layers of an onion - you think you’ve healed one aspect, only to uncover another layer of unresolved hurt - and you cry a lot in the process. Yep, I make people cry for a living, and somehow they’re grateful to me for it - I know this because they keep coming back, and because they tell me they are.

I’ve softened and warmed up this narrative enough, so I hope it won’t shock you when I start using the actual word we psychologists use for “past wounds” - yes, this is your trigger warning, I’m here to talk to you about trauma. 

I know, I know, this overused and slightly abused word which has been on everyone’s lips for the past couple of years. But don’t worry I own it - I still believe it’s such an underaddressed issue in the world, that even though it’s almost a fading trend, I’m gonna keep preaching about it. Why? Because it robs people of their autonomy, and it keeps perpetuating hurt in the world. And I’m gonna keep talking about it because I’ve decided my life’s mission is to contribute to changing people’s lives for the better by helping them recover from the devastating effects of trauma. 

So how does trauma have the capacity to show up in our daily lives so many years later, and what exactly is the point in digging up stuff from long ago?

What I don’t like about the whole trauma agenda is that the wounds we carry often change the narrative we tell ourselves. Thoughts like “I’m not good enough” or “I’m better off alone” are born in the realm of a traumatized psyche. These narratives become ingrained, guiding our decisions and actions. Like an invisible puppeteer, trauma pulls your strings and you’re blaming yourself for it, instead of resolving to cut yourself loose from its unjust grip by reclaiming your autonomy. 

Giving up on our autonomy is an involuntary act, which is why I say that we are “robbed” of it. It’s an act of survival that our psychology is programmed to follow when facing an impossible choice. I’ve explained it several times like this: if a person points a gun to your head and tells you to do as they say or die - by choosing not to die, you survive, but you are aware that that’s not an actual choice, yes? To your psyche, trauma happens when someone puts you in this impossible situation of choosing to obey, which leads to losing your autonomy.

As a way to cope with this grim situation, your psyche, now traumatized, is forced to help you craft a story that you can live with, and that’s how skewed perceptions of yourself take hold as foundational stories that have you convinced of your unworthiness. It’s that pattern of thinking “ I must be unworthy of love if my parent has chosen to abuse me”. 

The challenge of recovery lies in rewriting those stories - a process that requires courage, self-awareness, and support - always professional, well-trained and often extended support.

The first step toward autonomy is self-awareness. Before we can change anything, we need to take notice that a problem exists, so often  we begin to look at it, hoping to understand it. This means exploring not just the events that caused our wounds but also how those events have impacted us and how they continue to influence us in the present moment. I have had people come to therapy saying they want to fix the issues of the now, but they don’t want to dig into their past - as if their issues now had nothing to do with the past.

When people tell me they are avoiding certain situations out of fear, overcompensating in work or relationships, or suffering because of being stuck in cycles of self-sabotage, I already know that this feeling of enslavement to their own suffering is a loss of autonomy. And loss of autonomy is because of trauma. 

This journey of recovery is a hero’s quest, in which autonomy is regained bit by bit. It’s not a reward that shows up for you at the end of a battle. It’s an embodied experience of starting to use a part of you that’s like an atrophied muscle. It begins with the choice to look at the past wounds, assisted, and receive nurturing support to recover from that hurt. 

True autonomy is not about erasing our past but integrating it. It’s about looking at past events to begin understanding how they’ve changed us, and it’s about turning our wounds into wisdom, our pain into purpose. It’s about saying, “Yes, this happened to me, but it doesn’t define me.” Autonomy gives us the freedom to rebuild that which was shattered.

As we recover, as we begin to reclaim the parts of ourselves that were lost to pain, we start to see possibilities where before there were only limitations. When we take ownership of our choices and our lives, guided not by the shadows of our past but by the light of our vision for the future, that’s when we become autonomous and wholesome - the way we once were, before being struck by trauma, and for some of us - before we can even remember ourselves.

Recovery is a journey - one that requires patience, reconnecting with our natural capacity for resilience, and a deep commitment to ourselves. But it is a journey that is possible for every single person who wants it. It is a journey in which every step we take, we move closer to autonomy, to a life that is truly our own. And no matter how you feel about traveling, I promise you that’s a journey worth taking!