What Trauma-Informed Care Looks Like When It’s Practiced, Not Performed
Healing does not move in a straight line. Thriving after survival can feel like progress, until the body is reminded, by memory, by circumstance, by the weight of what we carry, that survival is still close by.
Not long ago, something at work pulled my nervous system right back into survival. In that moment, I could not name it. The setting demanded silence, so I shut down. It took almost a week, of sitting with the discomfort, of listening to my body, before I could call the experience what it was: a trauma response.
What caught me off guard was how stuck I felt until I could make sense of it in my mind. My body stayed in survival for days. My first instinct was to run, but there was nowhere safe to go. I saw her again, the younger me, carrying burdens too heavy for her age. Now, she carries real responsibility, and the world does not pause when she needs to catch her breath.
This moment reminded me of a truth: trauma does not ask permission before it returns. Healing and survival often coexist, and acknowledging this reality sets a more honest expectation for what growth truly looks like. As I reflected, I realized this understanding would shape not only my personal journey, but also the standards I set in professional spaces.
Permission in Survival
If your body responds this way, know that you are not broken. There is nothing wrong with you.
Survival responses are not choices. They are reflexes.
In those moments, you have permission to do what you need to survive.
You do not owe anyone an explanation. Sometimes the most protective thing you can do is pause, step away, and let your body catch up to your spirit.
That pause might look like leaving the room.
It might look like silence.
It might look like needing days, not minutes, to name what happened.
Every survival response is valid. Accepting them is not weakness, it is part of how we heal.
Making Trauma-Informed Non-Negotiable
This experience made one thing clear: trauma-informed principles are not optional. They are non-negotiable.
Every practice moving forward must be trauma-informed, not just in theory, but in the bones of how we work.
I want my team to have a word, a signal they can use to leave any space, no matter how important the event. No questions. No shame. No guilt. No pressure to push through. When survival is in the room, productivity and appearances do not come first. The person’s experience leads, and we follow.
Trauma-informed practice means the person comes first. That is the standard. No exceptions.
What Trauma-Informed Care Actually Is
“Trauma-informed” has become one of the most overused words in healthcare.
And one of the least practiced.
Being trauma-informed is not a box to check.
It is not a training slide.
It is not saying, “We’re sorry that happened,” and then continuing as usual.
Trauma-informed care means:
• Recognizing that many people enter pregnancy and healthcare already carrying trauma — medical, racial, reproductive, interpersonal, and systemic
• Adjusting care so that safety, consent, and autonomy are built into every interaction
• Slowing down when someone is fearful instead of labeling them “noncompliant.”
• Explaining what is happening before it happens, especially during exams, procedures, and labor
• Honoring lived experience as legitimate data, not emotional noise
• Reducing power imbalances, not reinforcing them
• Understanding that trust is fragile and must be earned repeatedly
Trauma-informed care is not about how a space looks.
The truth is, trauma-informed spaces are defined by shared power—by safety and trust that are felt, not just promised.
Why This Matters
For Black birthers and marginalized communities, the difference between trauma-aware and trauma-performative care is not small. It is the difference between engagement and avoidance, safety and fear, healing and harm.
At The Melanin Fluent Maternal Health Foundation, trauma-informed care is operational, not aspirational. It shows up in how we listen, how we explain, how we follow up, and how long we stay.
If we are serious about changing outcomes, trauma-informed care must be a responsibility, not a buzzword. That is how real change happens.
Chantel Spinner is a doula, maternal health advocate, and founder of The Melanin Fluent Maternal Health Foundation. Her work centers trauma-informed, culturally fluent care and systems-level change for birthing people and families.
