A 6-week clinical course for driven, ambitious people who've done the books, the therapy, the work , and are still running the same patterns. Built on Judith Herman, MD's three-phase model , the recognized gold standard of trauma recovery.
Open to anyone, any gender, any gender expression.
Join the Waitlist · September Cohort
Read the books. Tried the therapy. Built the impressive life. And somewhere underneath all of it, the same patterns keep running. The same exhaustion. The same loop.
Because understanding your patterns isn't the same as moving through the phases that actually change them. The foundation was never repaired, and that's not your failure. It's the work that's still waiting.
What it actually feels like
“I used to wake up at 2 a.m. in a full-body panic and lie there for hours. That doesn't happen anymore. Annie's work has changed my life. I still have work to do, but for the first time, I actually believe it's going to be different.”
, Tech Executive · Annie's Private Practice Client
If four or more of these resonate, you're exactly who this course was built for.
Six weeks of clinically sequenced work. Specific shifts, not vague promises.
If this is the work you have been looking for, get on the waitlist for the September cohort.
Join the Waitlist · September Cohort50 seats · Cart opens Sept 8 · Cohort starts Sept 22
Built on Judith Herman, MD's three-phase model of trauma recovery , the recognized gold standard, taught in trauma centers and graduate programs worldwide. Grounded in attachment theory, neurobiology, and relational psychology.
The order matters more than the content. You can't grieve what you haven't named. You can't reconnect until you've mourned. This course respects the architecture of how humans actually heal.
Video, audio, and full transcripts for every lesson. A 180+ page clinical workbook. Self-paced, returnable, lifetime access. This isn't a weekend intensive, it's a resource you'll come back to for years.
Most trauma programs online are built by coaches, content creators, or generalists. Fixing the Foundations was built by a licensed clinician with 15,000+ hours specializing in relational trauma recovery, and grounded in the same evidence-based framework Annie uses with her private clients.
| Weekly Therapy | Books & Podcasts | Trauma Coach Programs | Fixing the Foundations | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Led by | Licensed clinician | Author / host | Coach (unlicensed) | Licensed psychotherapist & relational trauma specialist · 15,000+ clinical hours · W.W. Norton author · Psychology Today contributor |
| Clinical framework | Yes | Varies | Often surface-level | Herman's three-phase model , gold standard of trauma recovery |
| Structured sequencing | Emergent | No | Topic-based | 7 phases, ordered |
| Workbook & exercises | No | Rare | Light worksheets | 180+ pages |
| Live access to clinician | 1:1 | No | Coach, not clinician | 12 live group sessions with Annie |
| Lifetime access | Per session | Yes | Often 1 year | Yes |
| Cost over 6 weeks | $4,050+ | $60 | $497, $2,000+ | $1,997 |
The somatic literacy to catch activation the moment it starts, and the tools to come back to yourself instead of performing, shutting down, or leaving. Not perfectly. But consistently enough that your body stops feeling like a place you have to manage.
The specific relational templates you inherited, named, traced, and visible. You'll catch the pattern in motion instead of waking up six months in wondering how you got here again.
The childhood you deserved, the parent you needed, the relationships that should have been safe, all of it processed in a structured clinical container instead of carried in silence. The heaviness in your chest lifts. You can think about your past without your nervous system seizing up. What you've been holding for twenty or thirty years stops being yours alone to hold.
Underneath the inner critic, the perfectionist, the people-pleaser, the over-functioner, there is a you who has been waiting to come forward. The survival beliefs that have been running your life, “I'm too much,” “Love always leaves,” “I have to earn it”, quiet down. The voice underneath them, steadier, clearer, more yours, gets louder. You stop performing who you think you need to be and start recognizing who you actually are.
The skills to say no without a 48-hour shame spiral. To have hard conversations without performing. To stay in conflict without it becoming catastrophe. Connection that doesn't require you to disappear.
Most driven, ambitious people spend decades building lives that look right and feel hollow. After six weeks, you'll know which parts of your life you were actually choosing, and which parts were assigned to you by a younger self trying to survive. You'll stop being a stranger inside your own days. The years ahead start to feel like yours to spend, not yours to endure.
Seven phases. Forty-nine lessons. Each one grounded in the clinical research that actually moves the needle on relational trauma, sequenced in the order the nervous system can metabolize them.
Forty-nine lessons. Seven phases. Built for the woman who keeps running the same pattern.
Join the Waitlist · September Cohort50 seats · Cart opens Sept 8 at 9am ET
You're at dinner with someone you care about, and they say something that used to send you spiraling. This time, you notice the activation in your body , and you stay. You don't perform calm. You don't leave. You don't over-explain. You just stay present, because your nervous system actually knows it's safe.
You wake up on a Sunday and the first thing you feel isn't dread or the need to be productive. You feel settled. Not because everything is perfect , but because you're no longer bracing for the thing that always comes next.
Your mother calls. The voicemail sits in your inbox the way it always has. But this time you don't spend the rest of the afternoon writing imaginary responses in your head, replaying childhood, leaking into your evening. You feel what comes up, you put a hand on your chest, and you call her back when you're ready. Or you don't. Either is fine. The decision doesn't cost you a day.
You're in a meeting and someone challenges you. The old version of you would have over-prepared for a week, lain awake the night before, replayed it for three days after. This version notices the heat rise in your chest, takes a breath, and answers from somewhere steadier than the part of you that has always needed to be airtight. You sound like yourself. You leave the meeting without needing anyone's reassurance.
You say no to something and the world doesn't end. There's no 48-hour shame spiral, no drafting and redrafting the apology text, no quiet certainty that you've ruined the relationship. You said no because no was the right answer. The discomfort passes by Tuesday.
You're in your body in a way you haven't been in years. You notice you're hungry before you're shaking. You notice you're tired before you're crashing. You feel something pleasurable and you let yourself feel it for the whole length of it , not bracing for the shoe to drop, not narrating, not earning it first. You laugh and it surprises you a little, how easy it is.
The voice in your head sounds different. Less like a parent you couldn't please. More like someone who's been quietly on your side this whole time. You catch yourself being kind to yourself the way you've always been kind to your closest friend. It still surprises you sometimes. But it's the new default.
You look at your life and you recognize it as yours.
Not the one you built to survive. The one that finally feels good , lived by the version of you that was always there, before the trauma made you forget.
This is the year you'll stop over-functioning. This is the year you'll set the boundary with your mother. This is the year you'll stop performing. You wrote the same thing in your journal twelve months ago. You'll write it again next year. The patterns don't soften with time , they calcify. By 50, by 55, by 60, they're load-bearing walls.
You can quote van der Kolk. You've underlined Pete Walker. You know what hypervigilance is, what disenfranchised grief is, what your attachment style is , and you're still up at 3 AM rehearsing tomorrow's hard conversation. Insight without sequenced clinical work isn't healing. It's vocabulary. And vocabulary doesn't move the patterns.
The one who shuts down mid-conversation. The one who picks the fight to test whether they'll leave. The one who can't receive their love without flinching. They don't get the version of you who could be on the other side of this work next year. They get this version, for another decade. Sometimes they don't stay for it.
The unprocessed grief becomes the inheritance. The walking-on-eggshells, the over-functioning, the way you brace before answering , they're learning all of it before they can name it. You swore you wouldn't pass this down. Without the work, you will. Not because you don't love them. Because love wasn't enough to break it for the generation before you, either.
The jaw that won't unclench. The Sunday-night dread you've had since you were seven. The exhaustion that sleep doesn't touch. The stomach that knots before phone calls with certain people. The autoimmune flare that arrived the year of the hardest thing. The body keeps the score , Bessel van der Kolk wasn't being poetic. He was being clinical. The bill comes due.
Ready doesn't arrive on its own. It's built through the work. The version of you who feels ready is on the other side of the seven phases , not somewhere before them. Every year you wait for readiness is another year of the life organized around your wounds instead of around your wants. And one day, the math runs out.
This work is hard. But not doing it is harder. And it gets harder the longer you wait.
Forty-nine lessons across seven phases. A 180+ page workbook with the exercises my private clients actually do, the somatic protocols, parts-work dialogues, grief letters, attachment maps. Twelve live sessions where you bring me your real material in real time. And two of my standalone $197 courses, included.
Three real exercises from inside the workbook
, from Phase I, Phase II, and Phase III.
Here is what I want you to know about putting $1,997 toward this work.
Show up to Phase I and Phase II. Watch the lessons, sit with the workbook, attend at least one live session. That is roughly fourteen days of actual engagement with the material.
If at the end of those fourteen days the work is not landing for you, email support@anniewright.com and we will refund you in full. No essays. No hoops. No proving you tried hard enough.
I would rather refund the woman the course is not right for than have her sit on a payment plan for something that is not changing her life. The work is hard enough without that on top of it.
, Annie Wright, LMFT
Three voices from the women who’ve done this work.
“On paper, great. Title, money, the firm respects me. Inside I was running a low hum of anxiety and waiting for it all to come apart. I almost didn’t do it because my childhood wasn’t dramatic, it was just cold, and I figured that didn’t qualify for whatever “trauma work” was supposed to be. It qualified. My daughter and I actually talk now instead of me just managing her calendar, and the thing that’s been sitting in my chest for twenty years has mostly let up.”
“I’d read everything. I could quote van der Kolk at you and explain my own attachment style and still be white-knuckling a panic attack before every big meeting. Turns out knowing why doesn’t fix it, which was annoying. The thing that landed was finally clocking that my perfectionism wasn’t a flaw, it was a workaround I built as a kid because home was a coin flip. The Sunday scaries are mostly gone. Someone can come at me in a meeting now and it doesn’t cost me three nights of sleep.”
“I sold my first company for more than I ever thought I’d see and felt basically nothing. Just, cool, what’s next. What finally clicked is that no exit was ever going to fix it, because the broken thing wasn’t out in the world, it was way older than the company. The grieving part was slow and kind of brutal. But I can sit outside with my coffee in the morning now and actually be there for it, instead of already three moves ahead.”
For comparison: one hour of 1:1 therapy with Annie is $675. One hour of executive coaching is $900. Live Cohort gives you twelve group sessions where you bring your real material to Annie in real time, plus the full curriculum and both mini-course bonuses, for $1,997.
From the Fixing the Foundations™ Beta Cohort
Eighteen women piloted this work before public launch. Here’s what they said.
“Sixty hours a week keeping other people’s kids alive, and I’d come home with nothing left for my own. I told myself that was just the deal. It isn’t the schedule that changed, it’s that I can feel myself running out now, instead of finding out after I’ve already snapped at someone. I can say no to an extra shift without spiraling about it for two days. My husband said last month it feels like I live here again. He wasn’t wrong, which kind of stung to hear.”
“I’m a physician. I can recite exactly what stress does to the body, and I prescribe rest to patients daily. Could not do it myself. What changed is I quit treating my own body like equipment I had to keep online. I notice I’m tired before I crash now. And apparently I’d been performing “calm” for years without realizing it, so, that’s fun.”
“PhD here, so my instinct with my own feelings is to treat them like data and analyze my way out of them. I assumed that if I just understood the anxiety, it would quit. It did not. This was the first thing that didn’t argue with how my brain works and still got me out of my head. My mom calls now and I don’t lose the whole afternoon drafting replies I’ll never send.”
“I built a career that looked great and quietly hollowed me out. When the marriage ended, the one move I had, work more, stopped working. I was genuinely terrified that if I opened any of it up I’d fall apart and not be able to do my job. It’s built so you get stable first and do the hard part later, which is the only reason I didn’t bolt. The voice in my head is different now. Less of a prosecutor. I’ll take it.”
“I was pulling eighty-hour weeks specifically so I wouldn’t have to notice my marriage was falling apart. I came at therapy like a research problem, aggressively, from a safe distance. Somehow this got underneath that. I turned down a project last month and, shocking, the world kept turning. I went home and had dinner with my husband. First time in a while.”
“In the ER, locking in and running at the chaos is the whole job. The problem is I was doing it at home too, braced for emergencies that were never coming. I can actually come down now. I sat on the floor with my four-year-old last week and wasn’t scanning the room the entire time, and it caught me off guard, because that just never used to happen.”
“I’ve spent my life code-switching and being the one who holds it together for my family. I was so far from my own needs I couldn’t have named one if you asked. What I’m learning is how to stay with myself and the other person at the same time, instead of abandoning myself to keep things smooth. Had a hard talk with my parents last week and didn’t go silent or get defensive, which, for me, is kind of a miracle.”
“You can build a whole life that looks exactly right and feels like nothing, and have no clue how to say that out loud to anyone. I kept telling myself I’d get to it once I was “ready.” I just got more tired. What made this land where the coaching and the weekend retreats didn’t was that it actually went somewhere. The life feels like mine now. Best way I’ve got to put it.”
“My entire twenties I said yes to everything and ran on cold brew and adrenaline because I figured I was worth whatever I shipped that week. I was basically vibrating all the time. I didn’t need a vacation, I needed a different operating system. Six weeks in and I can turn down a meeting without writing three apology emails first. Wild.”
“I thought being wrecked all the time was just what it costs to do work that matters. It didn’t occur to me that the need to save everybody came straight out of the house I grew up in. I can go to bat for my organization now without lighting myself on fire to do it. I sleep through the night more often than not these days, which wasn’t true before.”
“It is humbling to do this for a living and admit you can’t out-think your own history. My boundaries were thin and I was absorbing my patients’ pain on top of my own. Having an actual structured place to deal with my own childhood, instead of just understanding it intellectually, settled something. My clinical work is better for it. I’m not scraping the bottom by the end of every day.”
“Being one of the only women on the team meant being bulletproof. Any feeling felt like ammunition I was handing over, so I shut it all off, and it was quietly torching my marriage. I learned how to stay in an argument instead of going cold and checking out in my head. We get through hard conversations now without me disappearing halfway through.”
“In the OR, precision is everything, and I’d aimed all of it at myself, cutting out any feeling that was messy or inefficient. My body lived in high alert and I couldn’t have told you why. I’ve stopped treating my own needs like an inefficiency to engineer out. My partner can comfort me now and I don’t feel like I’m losing my grip on something.”
“My inner critic was so loud I just assumed it was my personality, and probably the reason I’d done well. Turns out it was a part of me that had been pulling overtime for years, and once I could hear it as that instead of as fact, it backed off. I don’t torch entire weekends anymore replaying one comment I made in some Friday meeting nobody else even remembers.”
“I was the adult in my family growing up, so stepping into leadership always felt natural, and I was completely fried from over-functioning in every relationship I had. Every other thing I tried just said “set boundaries,” thanks. This actually showed me where the pattern came from. I’ve stopped clocking what everyone needs and handling it before they ask. Genuine relief to find out other people’s feelings aren’t my job.”
“I work with grief every single day, and I’d written off my own completely, because what was there to grieve? Parents stayed married, money was fine. Apparently that was the whole problem. I can sit with my patients in their grief now without mine flaring up underneath it. I was about a year out from leaving this work. I’m not anymore.”
“Grew up with money being wildly unstable, so I built my entire life around making it. Even with plenty in the bank, my body still acted like we were getting evicted next week. It’s not that I understand the scarcity thing in my head now, I always did. It’s lower than that, harder to explain. The bracing has mostly stopped. I took two weeks off and didn’t check email once, which the old me would’ve found impossible.”
“I optimize broken systems for a living, so of course I tried to optimize myself. More discipline, better routines, the right productivity stack. None of it touched the actual problem, which was that I’d been running on a low-grade dread since I was about nine and had quietly decided that was just my baseline. What I worked out in here is that the dread wasn’t a discipline issue, it was old wiring, and you can’t morning-routine your way out of that. I’m on the road less now. I’m sleeping. I had a whole weekend recently where I didn’t open my laptop and didn’t feel like I was getting away with something.”
Names and identifying details have been changed for confidentiality. Each woman gave written consent to her exact attribution.
This work doesn’t just move the people who take it. It moves the therapists who refer it.
“As a therapist myself, Annie’s work is my go-to resource for my clients with complex relational trauma. I can’t count the number of times I have assigned a client the homework of, ‘read Annie Wright’s blog.’ Without fail, my clients report back feeling seen, understood, and less alone.”
“For years, I struggled to find resources that spoke specifically to family estrangement. Annie’s work is the resource I wish I’d had years ago.”
“As a therapist, I’ve seen many wonderful, big-hearted clients struggle to navigate difficult relationships with loved ones. Annie’s course is the missing resource I’ve been looking for.”
“As a fellow trauma therapist, Annie has been someone who I have respected from the very first time I’ve gotten to see her work. She conveys a feeling of humanity and relatability, which is rare in the field of counseling. Her compassion, passion and unending desire to keep expanding her professional skills are visible to all who know her.”
“Annie is one of the warmest and wisest people I know. She’s an expert on complex relational trauma and specializes in EMDR. Exceptionally generous too, sharing her vast knowledge not just with her clients, but also with the world in the form of her informative free-access blog and writings. Annie is a gem , both as a therapist and as a leader in the mental health profession altogether.”
“Annie is a skilled, compassionate clinician and a leader in her field. I’ve known her for 10 years and admire her passion for clinical excellence. You can tell Annie truly cares about people; she leads with heart and offers her wisdom through all of her online offerings. Highly recommend working with her if you get the chance.”
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The cohort starts September 22. Cart closes September 18 at midnight ET. After that, the next live cohort isn't until 2027.
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