Nonviolent Communication and Trauma

The territory of feelings is a universe that unfolds in the body, in memories, in culture, in the mind, and in the collective. Emotions have substance: they travel chemically through the body, they travel between bodies, and they move within the collective consciousness.

“How do we feel?” can be a very big question. Answering it with honesty requires inner listening, time, and a heart and ear willing to openness, generosity, and curiosity.

Our body and mind create defenses to avoid feeling what hurts—pain that would otherwise interfere with our ability to function in a world that never stops and doesn’t want us to stop.

Some people may not even be aware they have experienced trauma because their mind stored it in the unconscious, as there may not have been enough internal and external resources at the time to process it consciously. This is why trauma can later emerge through bodywork and emotional work.

A Nonviolent Communication space slows down conversation and gives time and attention to the inner, the interpersonal, and the transpersonal world.

Speaking of feelings and needs—and doing so in community—is to open a sacred space where we can release everything we keep in little boxes or don’t have the time and energy to face.

And the most important element in this process is to feel emotionally safe.

I want to write two articles about Nonviolent Communication and trauma. The first will focus on the role we have as people who share Nonviolent Communication, as coaches, and/or as group facilitators. The second will be more personal—my own experience with trauma.

But, what is trauma?

Here I want to share the definitions of some of my favorite authors:

Although Gabor Maté, Resmaa Menakem, Carl Gustav Jung, Rollo May, Carl Rogers, and Ignacio Martín-Baró approach trauma from different perspectives, they all agree that it is not only an external event, but a deep wound that remains within us and shapes the way we live.

For Gabor Maté, trauma is the inner disconnection that arises when we were not supported in our pain; for Resmaa Menakem, it is energy trapped in the body that is also transmitted collectively and historically; for Carl Gustav Jung, it is a fragmentation of the psyche hidden in the unconscious that appears as shadow; for Rollo May, it is a rupture in the meaning of existence that confronts us with anxiety and emptiness; for Carl Rogers, trauma arises when a child learns to repress their authentic experience in order to be accepted, creating a gap between the “real self” and the “ideal self”; and for Ignacio Martín-Baró, trauma has a sociopolitical nature, as it also stems from structural violence, war, and injustice, leaving wounds not only individual but collective—wounds that require community-based processes of healing. What they all share is the idea that trauma divides us, distancing us from authenticity and wholeness; and that healing involves reconnecting with ourselves and others—whether through the body, the psyche, collective memory, the search for meaning, authenticity, or social reconstruction.

Nonviolent Communication invites us to move out of freeze or fight energy, out of people-pleasing, out of the urge to flee. It offers an accessible path to reconnect with ourselves and, in doing so, inevitably touches trauma.

Moving through all of this requires tact, a non-directive approach as understood by Carl Rogers, and trust in the other person’s capacity to find their own way. Or as Myra Walden says, not walking ahead of someone, but by their side. This way, we do not leave them alone, avoiding retraumatization.

According to the General Declaration of the Ministry of Health (2023), 66.3% of Colombians reported having faced a mental health problem at some point in their lives.

In my path of integrating, practicing, and teaching Nonviolent Communication, I have come to the conclusion that one of the roots of violence is unprocessed trauma—pain that has not been held within safe company.

Violence can begin with a thought, with a feeling that has no place or person to listen and guide it.

Some points to keep in mind:

• First, becoming aware that trauma exists. Sometimes, unintentionally, we can cause additional harm. We need to be conscious that whatever we open must be closed again—while safeguarding people’s dignity and with humility about what we can and cannot do.

• In my courses, I pay close attention to what and how much people open up, depending on the time and resources I have. I offer individual conversations to care for what each person carries in their heart. It is important to avoid retraumatization. In courses, people are learning and may offer advice or opinions that can deeply impact someone’s vulnerability.

• Managing expectations and communicating the frame of the space is essential, as well as having resources available for people who seek or need more. For me, there is a fine line with therapeutic work, and the important thing is to have clarity about what we can offer. I frame it as psychoeducation, prevention, and emotional support.

• Offering choice in exercises is also key, especially when someone’s personal story may be opened up in a group setting. Naming the level of intensity that can be handled with care allows the person to remain in control of what they want to share and how far they want to go.

• Role-playing or expressing ourselves in a group of people willing to hold our vulnerability can be very healing, so the key is to ask for consent and keep checking in.

• I believe that offering choice is, in itself, a healing intervention: it allows us to reconnect with our power and our own sovereignty. It is a way of modeling a secure attachment style.

  
  

• As my dear friend and colleague Fernanda Siles says, shared context helps sustain us. To validate, welcome, and normalize are all ways of accompanying people. I think of migration processes, where people lose their context and feel like nobody understands them; this experience can leave them in profound loneliness. Ignacio Martín-Baró pointed out that uprooting is not only individual but also social, as it breaks the bonds that give us identity and meaning. That is why affinity spaces become both preventive and healing: they offer a place to once again feel seen, named, and supported. Integrating the territorial, economic, political, and relational context is therefore essential. The practice of NVC cannot be disconnected from its context.

• Knowing when to refer. It is important to hold awareness, humility, and responsibility about what we can handle while safeguarding people’s dignity and vulnerability.

• Working in teams. I have two psychologist friends I refer to when I believe someone needs more support. I also have two friends who work with somatics in case a person needs deeper body connection.

Over time, I have become a holistic coach and facilitator, integrating more and more aspects from the references that inspire me and that have helped me personally. So the other key is to study, to stay curious, to pass tools through our own body and mind before offering them to others—with honesty and integrity. For me, this is an expression of love and respect toward myself and toward others.

Claudia Sanchez

Certified Nonviolent Communication Trainer & Life Coach

Certified Mental Health First Aider

+57 319 650 0685

info@comunicacionplena.com