Navigating complex trauma in real time - your way.

Let’s talk about trauma — not the Instagram buzzword, not the clinical checkbox, but the lived experience of the world shifting around you so fast and so sharply that your body stops knowing what to do.

That is trauma.

Whether it comes from losing rights, losing access, or losing hope—your perception changes.

And that change matters.

So if you're oscillating between “I should be doing something…” and “I don’t wanna do anything,” you’re not broken.

You’re not lazy.

You’re not alone.

The world is shifting—loudly, violently—and nobody really knows what to do anymore.

The old tricks?

They’re crumbling.

But if you pay attention to what your body’s doing, there’s fascinating information right there:

• How your shoulders tense up reading certain headlines

• How that one news story keeps pulling at your attention, even when you try to look away

• How some tasks—ones that once felt easy—are now impossibly heavy

The rules have changed.

What we are noticing has shifted.

And no matter how strong our intentions are... action starts feeling slippery.

Because we’re caught in the space between what we want to do—and what we perceive¹ as doable.

From Biomechanics to Behaviour.

Often when trauma comes up, conversations dive straight into cortisol and stress hormones.

We're told our internal body chemistry is messing things up, preventing us from 'functioning effectively.'

But that explanation is missing something much bigger.

I mean sure, biomechanics matter. But that explanation only gets you so far.

It doesn’t tell you why you short-circuit *at the fact that trans people’s rights are being taken away “because of… something?”

It doesn’t explain why your body freezes when someone says, “just try to stay calm.”

It doesn’t account for the fact that trauma isn’t just internal—it’s relational. Environmental. Perceptual.

Let’s come back to what trauma actually is:

Not a chemical imbalance.

Not a broken brain.

A shift in how you *perceive what’s possible* in the world around you.

I don’t know about you but I've never met a neurodivergent person who doesn't go from 0-100 about something they care about.

Plus, have you tried existing in this world lately? It's LOUD.

I recently visited A&E and got a stark reminder of what it's like talking to neurotypical folks—vague, open-ended conversations where they'd already made up their minds. Stress-inducing? Absolutely.

So telling us to 'be less stressed' is like suggesting we:

• Stop caring about things that matter

• Avoid situations that challenge us

• Somehow wring the cortisol out of our brains

Here's the thing:

I love my work (stress!).

I love my kids (sometimes loud = stress!).

Both can trigger trauma responses.

Should I abandon everything that matters to 'reduce stress'?

That would create… more stress!

There’s no one-size fits all solution (*pause for dramatic gasp*)

When perception narrows, so do your options.

So if I can’t directly control my stress hormones… where does that leave me?

Outside the body.

In the realm of behaviour.

In the perceptual world we actually act within.

• How your shoulders tense up reading certain headlines

• How that one news story keeps pulling at your attention even when you try to look away

• How some tasks (that were incredibly easy) are suddenly so impossible

This information — is key.

We are driven by our behaviours – and our behaviours are driven by our perception.

We act based on what we perceive and we perceive based on how we act. It’s coupled.

Our systems are always scanning for opportunities to act—what’s possible, what’s doable. But right now? The world’s offering up a lot of… bullshit.

I mean in the US alone we’ve got tarrifs, people’s rights being removed and people being arrested for just walking down the street.

Then in the UK, the rights of trans men, women and non-binary folks have just had a blow to our actual human rights.²

This is important stuff… if it effects you directly — it’s going to draw your attention.

It’s loud. And it’s crowding out all the other ways we might act.

There’s a term for this: a landscape of affordances.

It’s not just about “opportunities” in the abstract. It’s about what you can actually detect as available—right now—based on your skills, your past, your context, your culture.

And when you’re living through systemic upheaval.

When your rights are debated, your safety is uncertain, and your attention is overloaded—the field of affordances reshapes in real time. The world’s been shifting. So have we. And now, what feels available? What feels doable? That’s changed.

According to ecological psychologist Erik Rietveld, we can understand this field in three dimensions:

• Width – How many options you can see or act on right now

• Depth – Your sense of future-oriented actions; what’s on the horizon

• Height – The emotional pull or salience of what you’re drawn toward

Width: When you’re a business owner, there are always a lot of options for what you could do.
So in “normal” circumstances? It’s already a lot.

But then add height.
Most neurodiverse individuals are incredibly driven by values—by what’s right and wrong.

And now… stack on the depth.

For most decisions, we have reference points—past experience to help us predict outcomes.

But right now? The future’s just fog.

And here’s what the science says:

“To the extent that either our concerns or the environment change, the field of relevant affordances changes too.”
(de Haan et al., 2013, p. 8)

This is why certain tasks suddenly feel impossible.

Why doomscrolling hijacks your energy.

Why reaching for the next step can feel like trying to grab a light that’s flickering out.

As trauma research shows, hypervigilance narrows field responsiveness to only the most threatening or immediate stimuli (supported in PTSD literature and ecological accounts of trauma, e.g., Fuchs, 2018).

It’s not that there’s “nothing you can do.”

It’s that the shape of what feels doable has changed—its size, its time horizon, its pull.

I actually started writing this before the UK’s Supreme Court decision.

At the time, I was already feeling the weight of what’s happening in the US—the systemic attacks on trans folks, disabled people, anyone whose existence challenges a norm.

And then it hit closer to home.

A direct blow to trans rights here in the UK.

Suddenly… everything felt heavier.
Work. Focus. Words.
Like the field I was navigating had shifted underneath me.

That’s not dysfunction.
That’s perception in motion.

That’s my system adapting to a new field of affordances—
a change in what feels safe, relevant, or even available.

So… how do you find movement when your field disappears?

This isn’t about finding the perfect response.
It’s about recognising that your field has changed.
And letting that guide your next move—however small, however sideways.

If your day feels foggy, heavy, too much… try asking:

• What feels emotionally loud right now? (Height)

• What feels within reach—without pushing? (Width)

• What can wait? What no longer has a clear horizon? (Depth)

If nothing feels answerable, that’s okay too.

You’re not trying to fix the field.

You’re just trying to perceive it—as it is, in this moment.

Because when perception narrows, the solution isn’t forcing clarity.

It’s gently sensing for the next opportunity for action…
and finding the next step.

Even if that next step is shutting down. Playing a game. Reading a book.

That’s not avoidance. That’s adaptation.

This isn’t about responding to your emotions—it’s about reading your environment.

• What’s actually available to you right now?

• What’s not?

• Where are you being pulled?

• Where is the signal strong?

That’s your way.

Not based on your identity — but based on your perception of what’s possible today.

You’re not broken. You’re perceiving.

And that means the world is still responding to you—still offering something. Which means your next move is already coming into view—even if it’s not clear yet.

1. Perceive isn’t just about what you see here. We don’t just act on visual information we act what we hear, touch, sense internally (interoception), and how we physically move through the world (proprioception & vestibular sense). Perception is the full interaction between ourselves and the environment, across multiple sensory systems—not just sight. (which is kinda important when the person writing this is blind in one eye 😉)

2. This is big. It’s heavy. And right now, I don’t have the capacity to unpack it fully.

If you’re ready to learn more, I highly recommend the free webinar Trans Allyship Now by Jenn Wilson and G Sabini-Roberts—two incredible humans doing powerful work.