When Insight Is Armor
It was 4:06pm on a Tuesday.
Rachel sat in her car, one hand on the wheel, the other on her closed notebook.
She had just finished a session with Samantha, a client she’d seen for over a year.
Samantha was thoughtful.
Insightful.
They’d talked about her patterns in relationships—how she either disappeared or felt like too much.
They even laughed together.
But Rachel couldn’t shake the feeling:
“That was fine… but I don’t know what I’m actually doing to help her change.”
Sound familiar?
Rachel was trained in EMDR, somatic tools, and IFS.
She knew how to name parts.
Track the nervous system.
Ask the right questions.
(Clinically speaking: she was noticing protector parts running the show, but couldn’t quite get to the core wound or access embodied affect.)
But she still felt like she was circling around something important.
So she brought Samantha’s case into our trauma consultation group.
And instead of rushing to solutions, we slowed it all down.
We asked:
What’s the deeper story this client is organized around?
What protector part might be hijacking the session?
What’s happening in your own body as you sit with her?
What’s actually needed in the room?
And this is what Rachel saw:
A part of Samantha that uses insight to avoid deeper pain.
And a part of Rachel that stayed intellectual so things felt “productive”—but not transformative.
We mapped out a new plan.
One that used somatic cues (breath, posture, jaw tension) to notice when a shift was trying to emerge.
One that gave Rachel permission to interrupt insight when it was blocking grief.
A few sessions later, it happened.
Samantha started talking—again, insight after insight.
But Rachel gently paused and said:
“I’m noticing a part of you that’s explaining things really clearly…
but I wonder if that part is helping us avoid something more raw.
Can I stay with you while we check in beneath that?”
Samantha froze.
Then teared up.
“That’s true,” she whispered.
“I talk so I don’t feel.
But this time… I want to feel.”
Rachel didn’t say much...
Because in that moment, her body was the intervention.
She was present.
Anchored.
Not grasping for the right tool—just grounded in a framework that could hold the session.
That was the beginning to the deeper doorway in.
This is what we teach inside the Integrative Trauma Training & Consultation COHORT.
Not just techniques.
Not just more certifications.
But:
How to map trauma dynamics with clarity
How to trust your nervous system in session
How to interrupt stuck patterns with warmth and skill
How to hold grief, complexity, and nuance—without getting flooded
One therapist in our Trauma Training Cohort recently said:
“This group is my safety net.
My clients can feel that I’m held—and it makes them feel safer too.”
And that’s the parallel impact of mentorship.
So I’ll leave you with a question:
Are you circling around something in your sessions… that you're ready to lead through?
No rush.
Just an invitation to explore what deeper support might offer you—and your clients.
With warmth, Esther