Yesterday, I made a video about EMDR preparation, and it really got me thinking.
See, oftentimes people assume EMDR is all about eye movements, butterfly hugs, or what we call bilateral stimulation. And don't get me wrong, those things have their place. But there's so much more happening in EMDR than following someone's fingers back and forth.
In fact, some of my favorite work happens before we ever get to reprocessing.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
First, what even is EMDR?
EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It's a structured, evidence-based psychotherapy approach best known for treating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Truth be told, that's what initially caught my attention.
I wanted another way to help people who had experienced trauma, especially those who could explain their experiences backward and forward but still felt stuck in the same emotional and behavioral patterns.
Now, I'm not here to bash cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) or any other modality. Different approaches can be incredibly helpful for different people.
But as a feels type of person and a proud intellectualizer, I was curious about approaches that didn't rely primarily on talking through or challenging thoughts.
Insert personal bias, I guess.
I had also experienced EMDR personally while working through a recent loss, and gosh, it helped me. That's my personal experience, of course, not a promise that everyone will experience it the same way.
The more I learned, the more I wanted to understand how EMDR could help my clients.
So I went and got trained.
And let me tell you, I walked away thinking, OH SNAP. There is sooooo much more to this than I thought.
And honestly? I'm still learning.
One thing I've come to appreciate is that EMDR isn't simply about identifying a traumatic event and jumping straight into reprocessing. There's an entire process of understanding someone's history, assessing readiness, developing resources, and identifying the experiences that may be contributing to present-day difficulties.
Which brings me to something I find particularly interesting.
But what if I don't think I've experienced trauma?
This is where I often get curious with clients.
Because when someone hears the word trauma, they may immediately think of a catastrophic event.
And if their experiences don't fit that picture, they might say, "Well, I don't really think I've experienced trauma."
Okay. Fair enough.
But what if I asked a slightly different question?
Have you experienced something that was deeply upsetting, frightening, humiliating, or left you feeling differently about yourself?
Does that bring up anything?
Maybe it's something you've dismissed for years because it wasn't that bad.
Maybe you've told yourself your parents were doing their best.
Maybe you laugh about it now because, well, that's just how things were growing up.
But I wonder what happens when we stop asking whether an experience was bad enough to count and start getting curious about how it affected us.
Not every upsetting experience meets the clinical definition of trauma, and not every difficult childhood memory requires EMDR.
But experiences that don't meet PTSD diagnostic criteria can still shape how we see ourselves, relate to others, and respond to stress.
And those experiences may be worth exploring.
The things we learned to do to get through it
Let's say you were the kid who made sure the kitchen was spotless before Mom got home.
Not because you particularly loved cleaning. But because you knew that if she walked into a messy kitchen, you might get yelled at for being lazy.
So you cleaned.
Maybe you became really good at anticipating everyone's moods.
Maybe you were the kid who grabbed a snack, turned on the television, and tried to drown out the yelling after Dad had too much to drink.
Maybe you learned to stay quiet, stay busy, or make yourself useful.
And here's the thing: those responses may have made a lot of sense at the time.
You were working with the options you had.
But what happens when that kid grows up?
Maybe she's now the woman who cannot relax until every chore is finished.
Maybe her stomach drops when her partner walks through the door in a bad mood.
Maybe she feels guilty sitting on the couch while someone else is cleaning.
Or maybe she's the woman who can recognize that someone is having a bad day but still immediately wonders what she did wrong.
Does that mean every woman who likes a clean house has unresolved childhood trauma?
Absolutely not. You do you Boo.
But when a response feels automatic, disproportionate to the present situation, or difficult to change despite understanding it, I think it's worth getting curious about.
What did you learn you had to do to feel safe, accepted, or less likely to be criticized?
And is that lesson still influencing how you move through the world?
Knowing why doesn't always change how it feels
This is where things get interesting for my fellow intellectualizers.
You can know your parents were stressed.
You can recognize that their reactions weren't necessarily about you.
You can understand that you were a child who had very little control over what was happening around you.
And yet, knowing all of that doesn't automatically stop your heart from racing when someone raises their voice.
The audacity FR FR.
But there's a reason insight and emotional responses don't always line up.
Our brains are constantly learning from experience. When something has repeatedly been associated with danger, criticism, rejection, or unpredictability, we may become particularly sensitive to cues that resemble those experiences.
Sometimes that learning shows up in our thoughts. Other times, we notice it through emotions, physical sensations, or automatic behaviors.
That doesn't mean your body is literally trapped in the past, or that every uncomfortable reaction is evidence of unresolved trauma.
It means our responses can be influenced by previous learning, even when we consciously understand that our current circumstances are different.
For example, you might know your partner's frustration isn't directed at you.
But if irritation and raised voices were once associated with feeling unsafe, you may still notice yourself becoming tense, apologizing unnecessarily, or rushing to make everything okay.
Your present-day circumstances may be different, but something about the interaction feels familiar.
And this is one of the areas EMDR may help us explore.
So what is EMDR actually trying to change?
One of the theories informing EMDR is the Adaptive Information Processing model.
The basic idea is that some distressing experiences may not become integrated with other memories and more adaptive information in the way we'd expect. When reminders of those experiences arise, associated emotions, beliefs, sensations, and reactions may become activated.
EMDR uses a structured process to help people work with those memories and their associated distress.
This is why we explore more than just what happened.
We might also explore what someone came to believe about themselves because of the experience.
Maybe the child who was constantly criticized developed the belief, "I'm never good enough."
Maybe the child who had to manage everyone else's moods learned, "I'm responsible for keeping people happy."
Maybe the child who couldn't rely on adults learned, "I have to handle everything myself."
Those beliefs may have made sense within the circumstances in which they developed.
But they don't necessarily reflect who that person is or what is true about their life today.
During EMDR, we work with the memory and the distress associated with it, including negative beliefs, emotions, and physical sensations. Reprocessing may help the memory become less distressing and allow more adaptive perspectives to emerge.
And here's where I want to make an important distinction.
Healing doesn't mean deciding it wasn't that bad
This matters to me because so many people, particularly women, have spent years being encouraged to minimize their experiences.
"Other people had it worse."
"Your parents did the best they could."
"That happened a long time ago."
"You're still upset about that?"
Sound familiar?
The last thing I want is for therapy to become another place where someone feels pressured to explain away what happened to them.
EMDR isn't about convincing you that something wasn't painful, that your family meant well, or that you should be over it by now.
It's not about erasing memories, either.
And it certainly isn't about making forgiveness a requirement for healing.
Let's go back to the child who cleaned the kitchen to avoid being yelled at.
As an adult, she may come to recognize that she wasn't responsible for managing her mother's emotions.
She may still feel sadness about the pressure she experienced.
She may even feel angry that she spent so much of her childhood worrying about keeping the peace.
Those feelings don't automatically mean the work isn't helping.
In fact, being able to acknowledge the experience without becoming overwhelmed by shame or fear may give her more room to understand what happened and what she needs now.
The goal isn't to make the memory insignificant. It's to help reduce the distress and limitations that may still be connected to it.
You can recognize that something hurt you without having to relive that same intensity every time you're reminded of it.
You can understand someone's circumstances without excusing their behavior.
And you can experience relief without deciding that what happened was okay.
Those things can coexist.
And no, we're not just stuffing everything into a mental closet
I also want to distinguish processing from avoiding or compartmentalizing difficult experiences.
Because I can already hear someone asking, "So we're just learning how to put the bad stuff away and not think about it?"
Not exactly.
Sometimes temporarily setting aside distress is helpful. We all need ways to get through our day without becoming overwhelmed by everything we're carrying.
But there's a difference between intentionally setting something aside until you're ready to address it and feeling like you have to avoid it forever because it's too painful to approach.
In EMDR, preparation may include containment exercises, grounding strategies, and other resources that help clients manage distress.
Those tools aren't intended to invalidate the experience or make it disappear.
They're meant to support someone's ability to engage with difficult material at a pace that's clinically appropriate.
And this brings me back to what inspired this entire blog.
Why EMDR preparation is one of my favorite parts
EMDR has eight phases, and the first two involve history-taking, treatment planning, and preparation.
How much time we spend in those phases depends on the individual. Some clients may need more extensive preparation than others, and we may return to resource development throughout treatment.
Personally, I love this part of the work.
Not because reprocessing isn't important. It absolutely is.
But because I get to collaborate with someone in figuring out what helps them feel grounded, what makes distress harder to manage, and what resources they already have or might want to develop.
We get to practice.
We get to notice what works and what doesn't.
And sometimes we discover that something a client has been doing for years was an attempt to manage distress, even if it isn't serving them particularly well anymore.
Resource development can include strengthening a sense of stability, identifying supportive experiences, practicing regulation strategies, and building access to adaptive emotional resources.
It's not about making someone perfectly calm all the time.
And it's definitely not about expecting a client to miraculously feel safe because I said, "You're safe."
Because let's be serious.
I'm still a person they barely know, asking them to trust me with experiences they may have spent years trying not to think about.
My credentials and training matter. But they don't automatically earn me someone's trust.
That's something we build through consistency, collaboration, respect, and paying attention to what the client is experiencing.
I want clients to feel comfortable telling me when something isn't working.
I want them to know they can ask questions.
And I want us to pay attention to what their emotional and physiological responses may be communicating, rather than treating those responses as inconveniences we need to push past.
As a clinician, I also believe completing EMDR basic training is a starting point, not the finish line.
Continued education, consultation, and clinical judgment matter. Especially when we're working with complicated histories, dissociation, and experiences that have affected someone's sense of safety.
The work deserves that level of care.
Maybe the question isn't whether it was bad enough
If there's one thing I hope you take away from this, it's that you don't have to prove an experience was catastrophic before you're allowed to acknowledge that it affected you.
Maybe you were never physically harmed, but you learned that making mistakes meant being humiliated.
Maybe you had people who loved you, but you also learned that their affection could feel unpredictable.
Maybe you had a childhood you're genuinely grateful for, and there are still parts of it you wish had been different.
You don't have to turn anyone into a villain to be curious about those experiences.
And you don't have to minimize what happened just because you understand why it happened.
You can have compassion for the people who shaped your story without abandoning the person who lived through it.
That's a big part of what I appreciate about this work.
Not rewriting the past.
Not pretending it didn't matter.
But exploring whether the things you learned to survive are still things you need to carry today.
And maybe, just maybe, giving yourself permission to put some of that weight down.
Curious about EMDR but not sure whether your experiences are something you can bring into therapy?
That's a conversation we can have.
You don't need to arrive with a perfectly organized timeline, a diagnosis, or a compelling explanation for why something still bothers you.
We can start with what you're experiencing now and get curious about the rest together.
KGW Counseling | Virtual Therapy Across Texas
