When I Shut Down: Trauma, Advocacy, and Protecting My Inner World

Over the last couple of weeks—somewhere between fighting off illnesses, trying to create meaningful family memories, and surviving what felt like a Midwest snow apocalypse—I shut down.

And I carried a lot of shame about that.

It felt especially frustrating because this is a time when advocacy matters. There is so much happening in the world that calls for attention, action, and care. But as a trauma survivor, I can’t ignore how my nervous system and my body respond to extreme trauma, collective trauma, and ongoing injustice. Shutdown and freeze aren’t choices for me—they’re protective responses. And they’re not uncommon for survivors.

What I’ve learned (and am still learning) is that I have to take things slowly. I have to be intentional about what I take in so that I have the energy and capacity for what I put out. Intake matters just as much as output.

My Young Parts Are Watching Too

One of the most important realizations I had during this period is that my “young parts” are consuming the world right alongside my adult self.

When I say young parts, I’m talking about the idea that we all have an internal family—different parts of ourselves shaped by our experiences. Some of those parts, especially ones impacted by trauma, pain, shame, or wounding, can become stuck in time. They carry the emotions, fears, and beliefs of earlier versions of us.

Healing isn’t about getting rid of these parts. It’s about building connection with them and learning to relate to them differently.

This is the work I’ve been doing personally for several years, and it’s the work I bring into my work with clients. It has changed my life—and I’m still learning.

As I noticed myself shutting down and freezing, I listened inward. What I heard broke my heart: “Every headline you read, we read too.”

I imagined what it would be like for a five-year-old to sit with the constant stream of distressing news, images, and commentary I had been consuming. I would never intentionally expose a young child to that level of fear and intensity. And yet, internally, that’s exactly what was happening.

Learning to Protect, Not Avoid

So I asked my young parts a simple but important question:

“What do you need from me?”

They didn’t ask me to ignore reality.

They didn’t ask me to avoid the truth or pretend nothing was happening.

They asked me to protect them.

That moment shifted everything.

Protecting my young parts means remembering that I am the adult now. I’m in the driver’s seat. I can make choices about how much I consume, when I engage, and how I show up. Limiting constant exposure to negative and extreme content isn’t a lack of care—it’s an act of responsibility.

If I want to be effective in the world, I can’t continually retraumatize the parts of me that are already wounded.

There’s a duality here that I don’t love but have to accept: I can care deeply and take breaks. I can advocate and protect my nervous system. I can stay informed without being inundated.

Advocacy Requires an Adult in the Driver’s Seat

I wouldn’t ask an elementary-aged child to call a senator and argue policy.

I wouldn’t expect a middle schooler to donate to organizations doing boots-on-the-ground work.

That’s adult work.

In the same way, meaningful advocacy in the real world requires my adult self to be present, grounded, and leading. That can only happen if my internal world feels safe enough to trust that I’ve got this.

Shutdown happens when my young parts take the wheel out of fear—and when I lose sight of just how scared they are.

Rebuilding trust takes time. It takes consistency. It takes compassion instead of shame.

You’re Not Alone

I’m sharing this because I don’t think I’m the only one. If you’ve found yourself frozen, overwhelmed, or retraumatized by everything unfolding around us, there’s nothing wrong with you.

You’re responding to a lot.

I’m here with you. I understand this place. And I believe that caring for ourselves—and for our internal worlds—isn’t a distraction from change. It’s what makes real, sustainable change possible.

Let’s take care of ourselves and each other, so we can show up in ways that truly matter.

- Stephanie