When A Useful Word Becomes A Buzzword
If you spend any time in the wellness world, you have probably noticed it: trauma is everywhere.
Scroll through social media and you will see endless variations of:
- Healing your trauma
- Releasing trauma from the body
- How trauma affects your relationships
- Trauma-informed everything
In some circles, it almost feels as though everybody, everywhere, is traumatised all the time. We talk about small “t” trauma, big “T” trauma, ancestral trauma, birth trauma, micro-trauma. The word is on everyone’s lips.
On the one hand, this is positive. We are finally talking openly about difficult experiences and their impact on the nervous system. We are less likely to dismiss or minimise what people and animals go through.
On the other hand, something important is being lost.
Photo by Yevhen Stienin on Unsplash
When Everything Is “Trauma”, Nothing Is
Any word that becomes fashionable is at risk of being diluted. If we call every unpleasant or challenging experience “traumatic”, we blur an important line:
- Healthy, adaptive stress that builds resilience
versus - True trauma, where the system can no longer integrate what happened and becomes stuck
That distinction matters deeply, especially when we work with animals and their guardians. The language we use shapes how we understand a problem and what we do about it.
I first really felt this minimisation of the word while watching a series on Netflix. A father was telling his university-age daughter about a childhood memory:
- His parents were arguing,
- He tried to say something,
- His father turned towards him as if he might hit him.
The daughter gasped and said, “Oh my God, Dad, that’s trauma.”
My immediate internal response was, “No… not necessarily.”
Was it unpleasant? Certainly. Arousing? Absolutely. Potentially frightening? Yes.
But on its own, for a reasonably supported nervous system, that kind of event is not automatically what I would call trauma.
Of course, context matters. If that child was already living in a chronically unsafe environment, already overloaded, that moment could push them past their capacity. It could become part of a traumatic pattern. But the point is: we cannot assume.
Why Overusing “Trauma” Is A Problem
When we call everything trauma, several things happen:
- We minimise real trauma.
Experiences that genuinely overwhelm and fracture the system – war, severe abuse, catastrophic loss – get lumped together with ordinary discomfort. The word loses its power. - We confuse ourselves and our clients.
If a guardian has been told their animal is “traumatised” by something that was simply stressful, they may expect complex, special interventions when what is really needed is good husbandry, patience and gentle support. - We risk locking identity around a label.
“This is my traumatised dog,” “this is my traumatised horse.” Once we decide that, it is easy to stop looking and listening. The label starts to replace the living, changing animal in front of us.
I see this often in case studies. The word “trauma” pops up very quickly:
- “This was a traumatic separation.”
- “That was a traumatic vet visit.”
- “The dog was traumatised by being told off in the park.”
Sometimes, yes. Many times, no. Sometimes it was simply a stressful event that the animal has already largely digested. We must always consider each individual situation before sticking on labels.
What I Mean When I Say “Trauma”
In this series, when I use the word trauma, I am talking about something specific:
- An experience (or series of experiences) that overwhelms the organism’s capacity to cope at that time.
- The system is unable to integrate what happened.
- The normal cycle of activation and settling is interrupted.
- As a result, the individual becomes stuck in patterns that no longer fit current reality.
That stuckness shows up in the body and behaviour:
- Reactions that are far bigger than the present situation warrants,
- Behaviours that no longer make sense in the animal’s current life,
- Patterns that do not shift, even when the environment is made safe and supportive.
This is very different from:
- A healthy stress response that rises and falls,
- A short-term fear that the animal can adapt to,
- The ordinary challenges of life that leave us stronger afterwards.
Photo by Nayana Morag
Why This Matters For Animals
You might ask, “Does it really matter what we call it, if we are still trying to help?”
In my experience, yes, it does.
If a guardian arrives saying, “My animal is traumatised,” the word itself is already heavy. We are more likely to:
- Treat the situation as fragile and fixed,
- Assume it will be hard or even impossible to change,
- Feel anxious or over-serious in our approach.
If instead we are able to say:
- “Your animal has had some very stressful experiences,” or
- “There may be some unresolved trauma behind this behaviour,”
- I have an essential oil that will help reset the nervous system
We leave more room for curiosity, nuance and hope.
Labels can be useful guides, but they should never replace observation.
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About the Author: Nayana Morag
