The Layers of Healing: Unpacking Trauma One Step at a Time

“Healing is like an onion. As you process through one layer of trauma to release the pain and heal, a new layer will surface. One layer after another layer will bring up new issues to focus on. Pace yourself. Only focus on one layer at a time.”

— Dana Arcuri, Soul Cry: Releasing & Healing the Wounds of Trauma

Something I have become keenly aware of in the last several years is that our bodies truly do keep the score. Healing is, indeed, like peeling an onion—one layer at a time, revealing deeper truths and unspoken emotions. Yesterday, as I walked through the front doors of the Children’s Hospital and stepped into the elevator heading to the third floor, I found myself transported back four months. Memories of walking the halls of the PICU with the transport team and my sweet 5-year-old came rushing back. This visit, thankfully, was far less frightening—a follow-up with his pulmonology team. Logically, I knew this was a positive step forward. My child is thriving. But my body hadn’t gotten the memo. Instantly, I felt the weight of those six long, terrifying days.

To be honest, I never fully acknowledged just how harrowing those two weeks were. My little one was extremely ill, and the reality of that experience felt too overwhelming to confront. Maybe I didn’t want to sit with the emotions, fears, and changes that followed. Or maybe I simply couldn’t. I was in survival mode.

One of the hardest parts of healing after a traumatic experience is the unpredictability of it. We can’t always anticipate when a moment will hit us, when a sound, a smell, or a setting will peel back another layer of the journey. Walking through that hospital entrance yesterday brought emotions to the surface that I hadn’t even realized I’d buried. I thought I was past it. I thought that because we had made it through and our child was doing well, the trauma was behind me. But trauma doesn’t work that way. Healing doesn’t work that way.

Peeling back those layers is hard. It’s far easier to ignore them, to pretend they aren’t there, than to face them head-on. But when we stuff down our emotions or try to avoid them, we only prolong the inevitable. Eventually, they demand to be felt, acknowledged, and dealt with. When we ignore them, they come flooding back with even greater intensity. My first inclination has always been to run, to avoid the discomfort. But I’ve learned that this approach robs me of peace, healing, and joy. Instead, I’ve started to shift my perspective. Rather than judge what comes up, I’ve been learning to identify, acknowledge, and validate the emotions and experiences. I let them show me what they need to, let them be felt, and in doing so, I peel back another layer and move forward.

It’s not just my healing journey either. My child, my family—we were all changed by that experience. I noticed it yesterday as I watched my carefree son tense up the moment the doctor placed a stethoscope on his chest. His fear was palpable, and in that moment, I felt the weight of what we had endured as a family. My sweet boy, once oblivious to the concerns of sickness, now fears every visit to a doctor, assuming it will involve needles and pain and overnights. He’s become hyper-aware of germs, washing his hands with extra soap, taking his inhalers without complaint, and ensuring nightly showers to ward off allergens. These are habits born of necessity but also rooted in the trauma of those days.

Even our older kids carry echoes of that time. A simple cough from their brother can send them into a quiet panic, fearing another hospital stay. They, too, lived through those six days in the PICU—and the week leading up to it—absorbing the fear and uncertainty.

Last night, my son and I had a chance to talk about the emotions we both felt walking into the hospital. We shared feelings of fear, sadness, joy, gratitude, and everything in between. My little 5-year-old looked up at me and said, “Mommy, I could feel it in my arms the second I walked in there. I remembered how the needles felt, and I was so scared they were going to have to do that to me again. But they didn’t.” His words struck me deeply. I expressed to him my own feelings—how scared I was when he was so sick, how helpless I felt watching him in pain, and yet how grateful I am for the doctors who knew what to do to help him heal. I told him how incredibly happy I am that he’s thriving now and that his lungs are getting stronger every day. Sharing that moment together was powerful. It allowed us both to process and validate what we had been through, giving us the space to feel and heal together.

Yesterday, I wanted to dismiss my emotions. I wanted to focus on the fact that we’d made it through the hardest part and were now thriving. But instead, I chose to lean into the feelings. I allowed myself to acknowledge the fear, the grief, and the lingering pain. By doing so, I not only gave myself permission to feel but also created space for my child to process his own emotions. Together, we confronted the reality of what had happened and reflected on how far we’ve come.

This visit also reminded me of the progress we’ve made. A few weeks ago, when my son began showing signs of a respiratory virus, I panicked. The sound of that barky cough jolted me back to those terrifying days. But following our new medical protocol, I watched his little lungs fight and recover—a moment that healed me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. It was proof that we’re not just surviving but learning, adapting, and growing.

Healing isn’t linear. It’s a journey that requires patience and grace. And when we return for follow-ups in the months ahead, I will lean into those moments, allowing myself to peel back more layers. Each layer we uncover is another step toward healing—for me, my child, and my family. This is how we move forward: one layer at a time, one moment of acknowledgment and growth at a time.

Healing is an ongoing process that invites us to revisit moments, embrace emotions, and confront fears. It’s not easy, and it’s not something that can be rushed. But each layer we uncover brings us closer to a fuller understanding of ourselves and our journey. Yesterday was a reminder that healing is not about forgetting or moving on—it’s about leaning in, reflecting, and growing from the experiences that shape us. There is strength in vulnerability, and there is grace in giving ourselves permission to feel.

Have you ever found yourself unexpectedly revisiting a past experience and realizing there was more healing to be done? How did you navigate those emotions, and what helped you move forward?