Relational Trauma Recovery Course: What to Look For (And a Therapist’s Honest Assessment)

RELATIONAL TRAUMA & RECOVERY • April 2026

LAST UPDATED: APRIL 2026

Late Night Doubts: Morgan’s Search for Real Healing

Morgan’s fingers hover just above her laptop keyboard, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across her bedroom walls. It’s 11:13pm on a Thursday. The house is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Her credit card lies on the desk beside her, the numbers worn from repeated use. On the screen, three tabs remain open, each a different relational trauma recovery course promising transformation, safety, and freedom.

She blinks, trying to hold back the rising tidal wave in her chest. Her throat tightens. Each program describes healing in language that sounds clinical but feels slippery, like smoke slipping through her fingers. She’s read testimonials, skimmed curricula, and watched slick promotional videos—yet none of it settles her. How can she know which course is real trauma recovery and which is just coaching repackaged with trauma buzzwords?

Her heart races. She’s driven, ambitious, and has always prided herself on doing the work. But this? This feels different. It’s not about checking boxes or pushing through. It’s about safety. About trust. About not being retraumatized by promises that don’t hold up. The knot in her stomach tightens as she wonders if she’s wasting another night, another dollar, chasing something that might never land.

Morgan leans back, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She remembers the therapist who said recovery unfolds in stages—not a straight line but a spiral. That safety comes first, not after she’s “ready.” That trauma isn’t just in her memories but wired into her nervous system. But none of the programs on her screen mention these things clearly. She’s overwhelmed, exhausted, but determined.

That’s why this article exists. I want to help you—like Morgan—cut through the noise and confusion. When you search for a relational trauma recovery course, you deserve clarity about what to look for. Real healing isn’t about quick fixes or catchy slogans. It’s about clinical credibility, grounded in science and compassion. In the next sections, I’ll offer a therapist’s honest assessment of the five key criteria that distinguish an effective course from a coaching program dressed up as healing work. I’ll also share how my Fixing the Foundations course meets those criteria, so you can decide whether it’s right for you without overwhelm or second-guessing.

If you’re ready to explore what real relational trauma recovery looks like and find a path forward that honors your complexity, keep reading. And if you want to hear more about my approach, visit my therapy page or learn about executive coaching for driven women who want more integration.

What Is a Relational Trauma Recovery Course?

Relational trauma recovery is a specialized form of healing that addresses trauma rooted in interpersonal relationships—especially early attachment injuries, betrayal, neglect, and emotional abuse. Unlike trauma from accidents or natural disasters, relational trauma cuts deeply into how we perceive ourselves and others because it happens within the very relationships meant to keep us safe.

A relational trauma recovery course is an educational and therapeutic program designed to guide you through the complex process of healing from these wounds. It goes beyond surface-level self-help by providing psychoeducation, practical tools, and a framework grounded in established trauma theory. But not all courses claiming to address trauma are created equal—some prioritize mindset shifts or coaching strategies without addressing the nervous system or the stages of recovery.

The foundation of any credible relational trauma recovery course is clinical frameworks developed through decades of research and practice. Judith Herman, MD, Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and Cambridge Health Alliance and author of Trauma and Recovery, framed trauma recovery as a three-stage process: establishing safety, remembrance and mourning, and reconnection with ordinary life. Any course worth your investment will honor this arc rather than jump straight to empowerment or life redesign without first creating safety.

A relational trauma recovery course is not a generic trauma program. It centers on the specific challenges that come from trauma in relationships—like difficulty trusting, chronic shame, emotional flashbacks, and the internalized voices of caregivers who hurt or neglected you. It also educates you about how your nervous system responds to threat and safety, a foundation many courses overlook.

When I created Fixing the Foundations, I made sure it wasn’t just another self-paced program with vague promises. It’s clinically informed, built on the gold standards of trauma treatment, and designed for driven women who want to understand their experience deeply—and heal it thoroughly. If you want to explore what that looks like in more detail, you can find more on my Fixing the Foundations course page.

The Science Behind Relational Trauma Recovery

Understanding how relational trauma affects the brain and body is essential for evaluating any recovery course. Trauma isn’t just a memory problem—it’s a nervous system problem. Bessel van der Kolk, MD, psychiatrist and trauma researcher and author of The Body Keeps the Score, taught us that “the body keeps the score” because trauma is encoded somatically—in your muscles, organs, and nervous system—not just in your conscious narrative.

During traumatic relational experiences, especially in childhood, the brain’s ability to process and integrate those events becomes disrupted. The speech center, Broca’s area, often goes offline during trauma recall, leaving survivors with what van der Kolk calls “speechless terror.” This means traumatic memories are fragmented and sensory-based rather than story-based, which is why simple cognitive reframing alone won’t heal relational trauma.

Stephen Porges, PhD, neuroscientist and creator of polyvagal theory, illuminated how the autonomic nervous system constantly scans for safety through “neuroception”—an unconscious process that happens before your thinking brain wakes up. When your nervous system signals danger, even if no actual threat exists, you can become stuck in fight, flight, or freeze responses. Recovery requires reestablishing neuroception of safety, often through relational connection and nervous system regulation.

Relational trauma recovery courses that focus only on mindset or cognitive shifts miss these crucial neurobiological realities. Effective courses include nervous system education and practical tools to help you expand your window of tolerance and settle your autonomic nervous system. Without this, you risk retraumatization or superficial change.

If you want a course that reflects this science, look for clear teaching about the nervous system, polyvagal principles, and how to build safety in your body and relationships. Fixing the Foundations integrates these concepts to help you move through trauma recovery in a way your nervous system can actually sustain.

For more on the nervous system and trauma, check out my article on Fixing the Foundations or explore how trauma-sensitive mindfulness fits into recovery on my newsletter.

How Relational Trauma Shows Up in Driven Women

It’s 6:45pm on a Monday. Isabel sits in her home office, the soft click of her keyboard interrupted by a tightness in her chest. She’s just finished a 90-minute client call where she felt invisible, dismissed despite her expertise. Her mind races with self-criticism: “I should’ve spoken up more. I’m not enough.” The familiar wave of shame floods through her body—a dense, sinking feeling that makes her want to curl into herself.

Isabel is driven and ambitious, yet beneath her polished exterior lives a nervous system constantly scanning for signs of rejection and abandonment. What feels like “perfectionism” to others is her nervous system’s way of controlling risk. She learned early that expressing authentic needs or emotions invited punishment or withdrawal. Her adult relationships mirror this pattern: a fierce inner critic, chronic people-pleasing, and emotional flashbacks she barely recognizes.

This is relational trauma showing up in a driven woman. Pete Walker, MA, psychotherapist and author of Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, describes the “four F’s” adaptation to trauma—fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Isabel’s perfectionism and self-criticism are expressions of the flight and fawn responses, survival strategies wired into her nervous system from relational wounds.

Relational trauma recovery courses that don’t address these specific patterns miss the mark for women like Isabel. You need a framework that understands how trauma adaptations show up in ambition, leadership, and the relentless pursuit of control. You also deserve tools that help regulate the nervous system, not just cognitive shifts.

If you see yourself in Isabel’s story, know that you’re not alone—and that healing is possible. Courses like Fixing the Foundations center these realities in their curriculum, offering both psychoeducation and practical nervous system regulation tools designed for driven women navigating relational trauma.

If you want to explore how relational trauma manifests uniquely in ambition and leadership, and how to begin healing, visit Fixing the Foundations to learn more about my approach.

Why Nervous System Education Is Non-Negotiable in Relational Trauma Recovery

It’s 10:22pm. Talia sits curled on her sofa, the dim light of a floor lamp casting long shadows across the room. Her hands tremble slightly as she scrolls through course descriptions on her tablet. She pauses on one promising “mindset shifts” to overcome trauma, then another offering “empowerment through positive thinking.” The words feel hollow. Her body remembers what her mind can’t yet grasp: trauma lives in the nervous system first, not just the story.

What I see consistently in my work with clients like Talia is this disconnect. Many programs tout cognitive reframing or mindset work as the path to healing, but if they omit nervous system education, they’re missing the central mechanism by which trauma holds its grip. Trauma isn’t simply a set of negative thoughts to correct—it’s a physiological imprint that alters your baseline of safety and regulation.

Bessel van der Kolk, MD, psychiatrist and trauma researcher, teaches us that “the body keeps the score.” This means trauma is encoded in the viscera, muscle tension patterns, and autonomic nervous system dysregulation—not just in the memory centers of the brain. Without addressing these somatic imprints, recovery stalls. You can’t think your way out of a nervous system that’s stuck in fight, flight, or freeze.

Stephen Porges, PhD, neuroscientist and creator of polyvagal theory, clarifies this through the concept of neuroception—the nervous system’s unconscious scanning for safety or threat. When neuroception signals danger, your body activates defensive circuits before your conscious mind even registers what’s happening. This is why trauma triggers often feel automatic, overwhelming, and inexplicable.

That’s why a relational trauma recovery course must explicitly teach how the nervous system works and offer tools to expand your window of tolerance—the zone where you can engage with difficult emotions without shutting down or flooding. Without this foundation, courses risk retraumatizing you by pushing you too fast or too hard.

Pat Ogden, PhD, founder of Sensorimotor Psychotherapy, emphasizes the importance of working with somatic sensations to restore regulation. When courses incorporate body-based practices alongside psychoeducation, they honor the whole self and the way trauma manifests in both brain and body.

If you want to truly heal from relational trauma, look for courses that don’t just talk about your thoughts or feelings but teach you about your nervous system’s role and give you practical ways to calm it. This kind of education builds the safety and capacity needed to move through Judith Herman, MD’s three stages of recovery—starting with establishing safety, not jumping ahead to processing or reconnection prematurely.

For a deeper dive into nervous system concepts in trauma recovery, see my article on Fixing the Foundations and sign up for my newsletter for ongoing insights and tools.

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Both/And: You Deserve High-Quality Support AND It’s Genuinely Hard to Know What That Looks Like

It’s 9:05pm. Nicole sits at her dining room table, her laptop open to a list of relational trauma recovery courses. Her credit card rests beside the keyboard, ready. She’s been researching for weeks. The fatigue of decision-making weighs on her. She clicks into one program promising “radical transformation,” then closes it, feeling skeptical. Another offers “community support” but no mention of clinical credentials. The overwhelm swells.

Nicole is driven, ambitious, and deeply committed to healing. She’s done years of therapy and coaching but still feels the shadow of relational wounds in her relationships and self-view. She wants real safety, not just catchy slogans or surface-level fixes. And yet, the trauma industry is a maze. How do you know what’s credible? What’s evidence-based versus marketing spin?

This is the both/and of relational trauma recovery. You deserve high-quality, clinically sound support that meets you where you are. But it’s genuinely hard to know what that looks like when programs range from licensed clinician-led courses grounded in decades of research to well-meaning coaches or “recovered” individuals with no formal training.

Gabriela, 42, is another woman I’ve worked with who knows this paradox intimately. One evening at 8:17pm, after a tough day at work, she found herself scrolling through program options while her inner critic whispered, “You’ll never get better; this is just another waste.” She felt torn between hope and despair, craving expertise but doubting her own ability to choose wisely.

What helps is having clear criteria to evaluate courses—criteria rooted in clinical science and trauma theory. Is the course created by a licensed clinician with trauma specialization? Does it integrate established frameworks like Judith Herman, MD’s three-stage recovery model or Stephen Porges, PhD’s polyvagal theory? Does it include nervous system education, not just mindset work? Is it transparent about what it can and can’t do?

Nicole and Gabriela’s stories underscore a crucial truth: you can want the best for yourself and feel lost at the same time. That confusion isn’t a personal failing—it’s a systemic reality of an unregulated trauma marketplace.

I invite you to explore these criteria with curiosity and compassion for yourself. You deserve support designed to keep you safe and guide you through the full healing arc. If that feels overwhelming, you’re not alone. And you can find trustworthy guidance.

For more on how to spot clinically credible trauma recovery courses, visit my Fixing the Foundations course page or learn about my therapy offerings designed specifically for driven women.

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The Systemic Lens: When the Trauma Industry Has a Credentialing Problem

It’s easy to blame yourself when you feel unsure about which trauma recovery program to trust. But the confusion reflects a broader systemic issue: the trauma industry itself has a credentialing problem.

Unlike medicine or psychology, where licensing and evidence-based practice are strictly regulated, trauma healing sits at a crossroads of multiple disciplines—therapy, coaching, wellness, self-help—with varying standards. This patchwork landscape makes it hard for consumers to differentiate clinical expertise from well-intended but unregulated offerings.

Evan Stark, PhD, sociologist and author of Coercive Control, reminds us that trauma is not just an individual experience but deeply embedded in cultural and systemic contexts. The trauma industry reflects these complexities, often commodifying pain without adequate safeguards.

This lack of clear credentialing allows many “recovered” coaches or wellness influencers without clinical training to offer trauma-related programs. While their intentions might be good, they may unintentionally cause harm by neglecting nervous system principles, ignoring the stages of recovery, or failing to recognize the relational nature of trauma.

Judith Herman, MD, Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and Cambridge Health Alliance, emphasizes that trauma recovery unfolds in stages and requires relational safety—a therapeutic alliance that can’t be simulated by videos or generic content alone. Without professional oversight, programs risk retraumatizing participants or oversimplifying complex wounds.

This systemic gap is especially problematic for driven women, who often feel pressure to “fix” themselves quickly and efficiently. The trauma marketplace’s proliferation of non-clinical options can reinforce the internalized messages that their pain isn’t serious or that their need for safety is weakness.

Recognizing these systemic realities can relieve shame and self-blame. It’s not your fault if you’ve felt lost or misled. The trauma industry is evolving, and as clinicians advocate for higher standards, more clinically sound options will emerge.

If you want to learn more about how to navigate trauma recovery with an informed, systemic lens, I encourage you to read my article on Fixing the Foundations and subscribe to my newsletter for critical perspectives and practical guidance.

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How to Heal from Relational Trauma: The Path Forward

It’s 7:30pm. Neha sits with her journal in hand, a quiet room around her. She’s been working through layers of relational trauma for months, but progress feels slow, like wading through fog. The ache in her chest reminds her that healing isn’t a sprint—it’s a series of steady steps rooted in safety, patience, and skillful support.

Healing relational trauma is complex and non-linear. Judith Herman, MD, Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and Cambridge Health Alliance, outlines the gold standard three-stage recovery model: (1) Safety, (2) Remembrance and Mourning, and (3) Reconnection. Each stage requires different interventions and capacities.

Stage 1: Establishing Safety
The central task here is to create a foundation where your nervous system can regulate. This involves psychoeducation about trauma and the nervous system, learning to recognize triggers, and developing co-regulation skills—borrowing regulation from a calm presence, whether in therapy or trusted relationships. Stephen Porges, PhD’s polyvagal theory guides this work by teaching how to expand your window of tolerance and cultivate ventral vagal states of safety and social engagement.

Tools like grounding exercises, breathwork, and somatic awareness help you settle the body. Peter Levine, PhD, psychologist and developer of Somatic Experiencing, highlights “pendulation” — the natural oscillation between activation and calm — as a key healing mechanism. Practicing this rhythm helps your nervous system discharge frozen energy.

Stage 2: Remembrance and Mourning
Once safety is established, you can begin to process traumatic memories. This isn’t about forcing narrative but gently allowing fragmented sensory memories to surface in a regulated way. Janina Fisher, PhD, author of Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors, teaches that working with structural dissociation—the split between apparent normal and emotional parts—allows integration without overwhelm.

Here, clinical frameworks like Internal Family Systems (IFS) by Richard Schwartz, PhD, help you engage with protective parts while accessing your Self—the calm, compassionate core. You learn to hold painful emotions with curiosity rather than avoidance.

Stage 3: Reconnection
The final stage is rebuilding a life beyond trauma—engaging with the world through meaningful relationships and authentic self-expression. This requires earned security, a concept from Daniel Siegel, MD, clinical professor of psychiatry, meaning developing secure attachment patterns in adulthood through reflective relationships.

Reconnection includes learning boundaries, cultivating intimacy safely, and integrating your trauma story into a coherent identity that doesn’t define you. Beverly Engel, LMFT, reminds us that self-compassion is the antidote to shame, a core relational trauma wound.

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What to Look For in Your Course and Support
A relational trauma recovery course that respects this arc will:
– Prioritize safety first, with tools to regulate your nervous system.
– Offer psychoeducation grounded in established clinical science, including polyvagal theory and attachment theory.
– Provide stage-appropriate interventions—helping you know what work is safe at each phase.
– Avoid promising quick fixes or skipping ahead to empowerment without foundational safety.
– Be transparent about what it can and cannot do—a course complements but does not replace therapy.
– Specifically address relational trauma dynamics, not generic trauma or mindset content.

Fixing the Foundations Meets These Criteria
My signature course, Fixing the Foundations, is designed with these principles front and center. It’s created by a licensed clinician with over 15,000 clinical hours specializing in relational trauma. It teaches the nervous system basics you need, walks you through Judith Herman’s three-stage model, and includes practical exercises for grounding, co-regulation, and building safety.

You work at your own pace with clear guidance on what to do when, respecting your window of tolerance. The course is transparent—it’s a powerful complement to therapy but not a substitute for individualized clinical care.

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Next Steps
If you feel ready to explore a course that meets these rigorous clinical standards, I invite you to learn more about Fixing the Foundations. If you want personalized support, consider therapy with me, where we can tailor your healing arc to your unique needs.

Healing relational trauma is challenging but possible. The path forward includes patience, compassion, and trustworthy guidance grounded in clinical science. You don’t have to navigate this alone.

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You’ve already taken the hard step of seeking clarity and support. That’s courageous. I hope this article has helped you cut through the noise and see what real relational trauma recovery looks like—both the complexity and the possibility. You deserve healing that honors your whole self: mind, body, and relationships.

Your nervous system is waiting for safety. Your parts are waiting to be heard. Your Self is waiting to lead. The path forward is within reach.

When you’re ready, I’m here to walk alongside you.

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The Sequencing Problem: Why Order Matters in Trauma Recovery

Judith Herman, MD, in her seminal work Trauma and Recovery, provides a foundational roadmap for trauma healing that cannot be overstated when evaluating any trauma recovery program, especially in a course format. Herman delineates three stages: (1) Safety; (2) Remembrance and Mourning; and (3) Reconnection. This sequence is not arbitrary, nor merely didactic—it reflects the neurobiological realities of trauma and recovery.

The first stage, Safety, is the cornerstone. Herman writes, “The central task of the first stage is the establishment of safety.” This safety is not simply the absence of danger, but the presence of regulatory capacity in the nervous system to tolerate distress without becoming overwhelmed. Stephen Porges’ polyvagal theory elucidates why this is so critical: the nervous system needs to be anchored in the ventral vagal state—the zone of safety and social engagement—before it can process traumatic memories held in sympathetic or dorsal vagal states. Without this, the nervous system risks destabilization, triggering fight-flight-freeze responses or shutdown, which Bessel van der Kolk, MD, describes as “speechless terror” when Broca’s area goes offline during trauma recall.

In practical terms, a course that rushes into trauma processing before establishing safety is clinically contraindicated. It places participants at risk of retraumatization because their window of tolerance—the optimal zone of arousal for processing experience as described by Daniel Siegel, MD and Pat Ogden, PhD—is not yet sufficiently expanded or stabilized. Without adequate grounding and regulation tools, the nervous system cannot integrate the sensory, somatic, and fragmented nature of traumatic memory that van der Kolk identifies. Instead, participants may become stuck in dysregulation, experiencing emotional flashbacks or overwhelming states that Pete Walker, MA, defines as manifestations of complex PTSD.

Therefore, when assessing a relational trauma recovery course, one must ask: Does the curriculum explicitly prioritize safety first? Does it scaffold skills to expand the window of tolerance before inviting participants to engage with painful material? Are grounding and stabilization techniques woven in early and repeatedly? If the answer is yes, the course respects the neurobiological and relational realities of trauma recovery. If no, it risks perpetuating harm under the guise of healing.

Only once a participant has established some degree of safety—through co-regulation, resource-building, and stabilization—can the second stage, Remembrance and Mourning, be approached with clinical integrity. This phase involves revisiting traumatic memories, mourning losses, and integrating fragmented narratives. Herman emphasizes that recovery is not linear but spirals; the nervous system may oscillate between safety and activation, requiring ongoing calibration and support.

Finally, the third stage, Reconnection, involves re-engaging with community, self, and life in new, authentic ways. It is the stage where relational trauma finds its most profound healing because trauma is inherently relational, as Herman and Bonnie Badenoch both assert. Connection is not a luxury but a therapeutic necessity. A well-designed course honors this trajectory, sequencing content and experiential work to support these stages rather than collapsing them or skipping foundational steps.

In short, sequencing is not a theoretical preference; it is a clinical imperative grounded in decades of trauma research. When a recovery program respects this order, it fosters integration and resilience. When it does not, it risks reactivating survival defenses and deepening dysregulation.

What ‘Trauma-Informed’ Actually Means in a Course Context

The phrase “trauma-informed” has become ubiquitous, often deployed as a badge of credibility without clear clinical specificity. To truly be trauma-informed requires more than a cursory nod to trauma’s prevalence; it demands an intentional, concrete framework rooted in research and clinical best practices. According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), trauma-informed practice involves four key assumptions: realizing the widespread impact of trauma, recognizing signs and symptoms, integrating knowledge into practice, and actively seeking to avoid re-traumatization.

Applied to a self-paced trauma recovery course, this framework translates into several critical features. First, the course must explicitly acknowledge that participants come with diverse trauma histories and that the content may trigger distress. This recognition is not about inducing fear but about honoring the neuroception—the nervous system’s unconscious assessment of safety or threat—that Stephen Porges highlights. Participants need clear guidance on pacing themselves, with explicit permission to pause, step back, and re-engage when ready.

Second, trauma-informed courses provide robust grounding and regulation tools woven throughout the material. Deb Dana, LCSW, emphasizes the importance of the Autonomic Ladder—helping participants ascend from sympathetic activation or dorsal vagal shutdown back into ventral vagal connection. This might include somatic exercises, breathwork, mindfulness anchors, or relational prompts designed to foster co-regulation even in a virtual or asynchronous environment.

Third, a trauma-informed course is transparent about its scope. It clearly states it is not therapy and encourages participants experiencing acute distress or crisis to seek professional support. This boundary setting is essential; it respects the limitations of a course format and safeguards participants from expecting relational containment that can only be provided in a therapeutic alliance. This aligns with Judith Herman’s insistence that trauma recovery unfolds in relationship—something a course can approximate but not replace.

Fourth, the course design avoids mandatory sharing or disclosure practices that might replicate coercive dynamics or boundary violations, a principle underscored by Pete Walker’s work on the fawn response and boundary collapse. Participants must be able to engage at their own pace and with autonomy over what they reveal or explore.

Finally, the concept of safety in trauma treatment must be reframed beyond “absence of threat” to include “presence of connection,” as van der Kolk insists. Even in a course setting, this means cultivating a felt sense of relational attunement—through the instructor’s voice, the framing of content, and community components if present. Bonnie Badenoch’s work on right-brain to right-brain communication reminds us that healing begins in the felt experience of being seen and held, which can be conveyed through compassionate and clear instructional design.

In summary, a trauma-informed course is not just “nice” or “gentle.” It is a rigorously designed container that respects the neurobiology of trauma, fosters autonomy and safety, integrates clinical wisdom, and safeguards against retraumatization. Without these elements, the label “trauma-informed” is a hollow signifier.

Annie’s Honest Assessment of Fixing the Foundations

Fixing the Foundations is a carefully sequenced psychoeducational course designed to illuminate the complex terrain of relational trauma recovery for driven women. What it does exceptionally well is provide a structured map of relational patterns and trauma dynamics that individual therapy often cannot cover systematically due to time constraints or the emergent nature of clinical work. It offers exercises targeted at surfacing internalized relational templates, which can then be brought into therapy or personal reflection with greater clarity.

This course is specifically designed for women who have already established some degree of safety in their recovery process. It presumes a level of nervous system regulation sufficient to engage with the material without becoming overwhelmed. In other words, it is not for women in acute crisis, those currently destabilized or in early trauma stages where safety and stabilization remain the primary clinical focus. Nor is it a substitute for the relational container that therapy provides; it cannot replace a therapeutic alliance, which Judith Herman and Bessel van der Kolk both emphasize as essential for deep healing.

My honest assessment is that Fixing the Foundations offers a vital resource for women who are ready to deepen their understanding of relational trauma patterns, who seek clinical precision paired with accessible psychoeducation, and who want exercises that bridge insight with somatic awareness. It is a complement to therapy, not a replacement. For some women, therapy must come first—particularly when the nervous system is still in fight, flight, freeze, or fawn modes as described by Pete Walker and Stephen Porges.

If you are considering this course, reflect on where you are in your recovery. Are you able to stay present with challenging material without dissociating or shutting down? Do you have grounding tools or supportive relationships that help you return to safety? If so, Fixing the Foundations can expand your capacity for self-awareness and relational insight. You can explore the course in more detail here: https://anniewright.com/fixing-the-foundations/.

Above all, I want you to know that choosing a course is a clinical decision as much as a personal one. Being trauma-informed means honoring your complexity, your nervous system’s needs, and your right to a container that holds you with clinical precision and deep human respect.

Related Reading

• Herman, Judith L. Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence—from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. Basic Books, 1992.
• van der Kolk, Bessel A. The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. Viking, 2014.
• Porges, Stephen W. The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation. W.W. Norton & Company, 2011.
• Walker, Pete. Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013.

References

Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)

1. van der Kolk BA, Wang JB, Yehuda R, Bedrosian L, Coker AR, Harrison C, et al. Effects of MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD on self-experience. PLoS One. 2024;19(1):e0295926. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0295926. PMID: 38198456.
2. Cloitre M, Stolbach BC, Herman JL, van der Kolk B, Pynoos R, Wang J, et al. A developmental approach to complex PTSD: childhood and adult cumulative trauma as predictors of symptom complexity. J Trauma Stress. 2009;22(5):399-408. doi:10.1002/jts.20444. PMID: 19795402.
3. Payne P, Levine PA, Crane-Godreau MA. Somatic experiencing: using interoception and proprioception as core elements of trauma therapy. Front Psychol. 2015;6:93. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2015.00093. PMID: 25699005.
4. Porges SW. Polyvagal Theory: Current Status, Clinical Applications, and Future Directions. Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2025;22(3):169-184. doi:10.36131/cnfioritieditore20250301. PMID: 40735382.
5. Reisz S, Duschinsky R, Siegel DJ. Disorganized attachment and defense: exploring John Bowlby's unpublished reflections. Attach Hum Dev. 2018;20(2):107-134. doi:10.1080/14616734.2017.1380055. PMID: 28952412.
6. Ogden P, Pain C, Fisher J. A sensorimotor approach to the treatment of trauma and dissociation. Psychiatr Clin North Am. 2006;29(1):263-79, xi-xii. PMID: 16530597.
7. Brenner EG, Schwartz RC, Becker C. Development of the internal family systems model: Honoring contributions from family systems therapies. Fam Process. 2023;62(4):1290-1306. doi:10.1111/famp.12943. PMID: 37924221.

Books & Cultural Sources (Chicago Author-Date)

• Fisher, Janina. Healing the fragmented selves of trauma survivors. Taylor & Francis Group, 2017.
• Badenoch, Bonnie. Being a brain-wise therapist. W. W. Norton & Co., 2008.
• Walker, Pete. Complex PTSD. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013.
• Dana, Deb. The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy. Norton & Company, Incorporated, W. W., 2018.

Medical Disclaimer

Medical Disclaimer