Trauma-Informed or Not? Four Scenarios That Reveal the Difference

We often assume that people’s behaviors make sense on the surface—if someone is nice, it means they like us; if they leave suddenly, they’re uninterested or flaky.

A trauma-informed approach helps us recognize that behaviors often have deeper, invisible roots, and how we respond can either reinforce someone’s existing patterns or create a new opportunity for growth.

Here are four roleplays that demonstrate the difference between a common response and a trauma-informed one.

1. When Feeling Good Feels Unsafe: Leaving After a Positive Experience

I was leading a class when one of the participants seemed to have a breakthrough. They were fully engaged, present in their body, and even smiling—something I hadn’t seen from them before. But shortly after, they abruptly said they needed to leave. Their energy had shifted; they seemed closed off, almost like they regretted participating.

The Non-Trauma-Informed Response:

I felt confused. Why would they want to leave right after such a good moment? It didn’t make sense. If anything, I assumed they must be afraid of vulnerability or discomfort. I didn’t connect their withdrawal to their earlier engagement, writing it off as unrelated.

The Trauma-Informed Response:

Instead of assuming their reaction was random, I recognized that feeling good—especially in an embodied way—might be unfamiliar or even threatening to someone who has carried deep shame. If someone has spent years believing they don’t deserve to feel good, a positive experience can create an internal conflict. The moment of expansion leads to contraction, not because the experience was bad, but because it challenges a long-held belief: I’m not worthy of this.

Rather than taking it personally, I acknowledged that powerful experiences can bring up a lot of emotions afterward. Instead of trying to make them stay, I let them know they were welcome to return whenever they were ready. Later, I checked in, offering support without pressure.

2. Posture as Protection: The Story Behind the Pattern

A new client came in for bodywork with a forward head posture and rounded shoulders. They didn’t mention pain or discomfort, but I noticed the posture.

The Non-Trauma-Informed Response:

I assumed their posture was dysfunctional and needed fixing. I explained how their alignment might cause strain over time and offered strategies to “improve” it. I framed their body as something broken, assuming that they must want it corrected.

The Trauma-Informed Response:

Instead of seeing their posture as a problem, I considered that it might be an adaptation—a shape their body had learned to keep them safe. Maybe it was a response to a past injury, emotional stress, or even a protective stance developed in childhood.

Rather than imposing my assumptions, I asked, “How does this position feel for you?” I let them guide the conversation, and instead of assuming change was necessary, I acknowledged that their posture had served a purpose. If they expressed discomfort or curiosity about change, I explored it with them—on their terms.

3. More Than Just Being Nice: Being Overly Sweet and Agreeable

During a class, one participant stood out because they were exceptionally warm and complimentary. They agreed with everything I said, showered me with praise, and seemed deeply invested in making sure I liked them.

The Non-Trauma-Informed Response:

I naturally liked them. Their enthusiasm felt good, and I found myself favoring them. I assumed their kindness was simply part of their personality, without questioning whether it was a survival strategy.

The Trauma-Informed Response:

Instead of just enjoying their warmth, I recognized that excessive sweetness and agreeableness can be a deeply embedded protective response—just like withdrawal or aggression. Some people learn that the best way to stay safe is to be easygoing, agreeable, and hyper-aware of other people’s moods. They may have grown up in an environment where expressing disagreement or boundaries felt dangerous.

Rather than unconsciously rewarding their strategy, I made space for them to show up authentically, even if that meant disagreeing with me. I might say, “You don’t have to agree with me! I’d love to hear your real thoughts.” This subtle shift created room for them to feel safe being themselves, not just who they thought they needed to be to belong.

4. Struggling in Silence: Having Trouble Asking for Help

A friend was clearly having a hard time—low energy, distant, overwhelmed. When I asked if they were okay, they brushed it off, saying they were “fine” or “just tired.” They didn’t directly ask for help, but their body language and tone said otherwise.

The Non-Trauma-Informed Response:

I either tried to cheer them up (“You just need to focus on the positives!”), or I colluded with their distress (“Yeah, life is just awful sometimes.”). In both cases, I bypassed their actual needs—either by dismissing their pain or reinforcing their sense of helplessness.

The Trauma-Informed Response:

I understood that expressing needs can be difficult, especially for those who have learned that their struggles aren’t always met with care. Instead of forcing a conversation or minimizing their pain, I simply said, “It sounds like things have been really tough. I’m here if you want to talk about what kind of support would feel helpful to you.”

By not pushing them to open up but also not ignoring their struggle, I created a space where they could express themselves on their own terms.

Final Thoughts

Being trauma-informed doesn’t mean having all the answers—it involves being willing to see beyond the surface of people’s actions.

When someone leaves suddenly, becomes overly agreeable, struggles to ask for help, or even holds their body in a certain way, our response matters. We can see the behavior as irrational or frustrating, or we can recognize that their behaviors point to adaptations shaped by past experiences.

A trauma-informed approach doesn’t require fixing anyone. It simply asks us to pause, to be curious rather than reactive, and to offer a response that allows people to feel seen and safe—sometimes for the first time.