Is This My Trauma or the Present Moment? A Therapist’s Reflection on Why the Answer Isn’t Always the Point

Something that I hear from clients often is: “How do I know if what I’m feeling is from my past trauma, or connected to what’s happening right now?”

It’s such an understandable question, especially as we’re working on unlearning patterns from our past that no longer serve us.

But here’s a thought that I’ve been sitting with lately, both in my own reflections and in the therapy space with my clients.

A woman sitting alone on the beach looking out at the ocean, reflecting quietly as waves move in the background — a calming, introspective scene that mirrors the emotional pause and self-reflection explored in the blog about trauma responses and feeling versus analyzing.

Sometimes the act of trying to figure out whether it’s “past or present” becomes a way to avoid feeling what’s actually happening.

And I don’t say that with judgment, because it’s such a human thing to do. When feelings feel too big, too confusing, or too much, the mind jumps in to save us. It wants to analyze, categorize, and intellectualize—anything that keeps us a little removed from the rawness underneath.

I work with a lot of men and women who are intellectual, thoughtful, high-functioning, and deeply self-aware, and for them, analyzing becomes a kind of armor. If they can just “understand it,” maybe they won’t have to feel it.

But the body doesn’t speak the language of analysis or cognition. It speaks in sensations, shifts, tension, tightness, heat, pulling away, shutting down. It tells the truth long before cognition catches up.

Even when a client is describing a current trigger — maybe their partner did something that reminds them of past betrayal — their nervous system usually reacts before their mind has even put words to the subtle slight. That’s why the question “Is this my trauma or reality?” can get so tangled. Because often, it’s both: something in the present is brushing up against something unresolved from the past.

The danger I see is when the urge to differentiate becomes a path away from feeling what’s beneath the analysis. It’s like the person is hovering a few inches above their own experience, trying to examine it from every angle instead of actually landing in it.

Sometimes a client is telling me a story about something that happened (e.g., a comment their partner made, a silence they didn’t know how to interpret) and I can feel how badly they want to make sure they’re interpreting the situation “correctly.” They don’t want to overreact. They don’t want to repeat old patterns. They don’t want to be blindsided or wrong. Their body is in a full anxiety response, but their mind is trying to run diagnostics.

And what I usually find myself saying is something like:

“Before we analyze whether this is old or new, can we pause and feel what’s happening right now?”

Because the bodily feeling itself holds so much wisdom.

Sometimes it’s an old survival pattern.

Sometimes it’s very strong intuition about the present.

Sometimes it’s a mix of both.

But you can’t hear any of that if you meet the emotion with analysis instead of curiosity.

There’s also this belief many trauma survivors internalize — that they have to be 100% certain before they’re allowed to honor their feelings. That they must separate past from present perfectly or else they’ll “mess up.” But healing doesn’t demand perfection. It asks for presence. It asks for honesty. It asks for noticing what’s happening inside your body before deciding what it means.

One of the most meaningful parts of trauma therapy and somatic therapy is helping clients build the capacity to feel without immediately needing to interpret. When you slow down enough to sense what your nervous system is doing, the differentiation actually gets easier. The body has a way of telling you what’s old and what’s current, but only when it’s given space.

Sometimes a reaction feels younger in that it’s layered, overwhelming, urgent, familiar.

Sometimes it feels clearer and more grounded, more boundary-oriented, more connected to what’s in front of you.

And sometimes, you need time and support to tell the difference. There’s no shame in that.

What I’ve come to realize is that the more someone tries to force clarity, the farther they get from themselves. But when they allow the feeling to be there — even if it’s confusing or uncomfortable — clarity naturally rises to the surface.

So instead of asking your nervous system to choose between “past” and “present,” maybe the more compassionate question is:

“What is this emotion trying to tell me?”

“What part of me is feeling this?” (i.e., the part that fears rejection, the part that needs to fix)

“And what do I need right now?”

That’s where healing happens — not in the intellectual sorting, but in the gentle connection with your own internal experience. That’s the moment when a client starts shifting out of old trauma responses and into a relationship with their present-day self: the part of them that can feel, notice, decide, and respond from a place that’s grounded rather than guarded.

And if this is something you recognize in yourself — the analyzing, the overwhelm, the uncertainty about what’s “trauma” and what’s “now”—you don’t have to sort through it alone. I offer in-person therapy in Brea, CA and online therapy for adults across California and Arizona, with a focus on somatic therapy, anxiety, self-esteem, and young adults.

If you’re curious about working together, reach out today to schedule your complimentary consultation.