A Year of Trauma Therapy in Austin: What I've Learned
Reflections from a year of trauma-focused practice in Austin. What I see most often, what works, what doesn't, and what I want clients to know.
A reflection piece. Written in Brittany's voice. Suitable as a signature/credibility post.
A year ago, I made a quiet decision: I would set up a small practice in Austin that prioritized doing trauma therapy well — at depth, unhurried, and shaped to the clients in front of me rather than to a productivity quota. This post is a reflection on what I've learned. Not what the textbook says — what the work has actually taught me, sitting with hundreds of hours of stories I am honored to have heard.
What I see most often
Five themes have shown up over and over.
- Most adults walking in with anxiety have untreated trauma underneath. Not always Big-T trauma. Often the quieter kind: chronic invalidation, emotional neglect, attachment wounds, a childhood spent tracking other people's moods. Treating the surface anxiety alone produces partial results. Treating the underneath changes things at a deeper level.
- The body knows things the mind hasn't named yet. I have learned to trust the small flinch, the held breath, the shoulder that won't come down. The body is often the most honest reporter in the room.
- Healing is non-linear in ways that surprise people. The "I think I'm getting worse" sessions are often the ones right before significant shifts. Resistance is information, not failure. The work moves, but not on a schedule.
- Christian clients are carrying things they have never been allowed to name out loud. Anger at God. Doubt that won't resolve. The specific grief of a faith community that didn't keep its promises. The shame they were taught to feel about their bodies. The exhaustion of performing wellness for people who only want to see them well. The work of giving these things room is some of the most meaningful work I do.
- The single biggest predictor of outcome is the therapeutic relationship. Modality matters. Training matters. But what matters most is whether the client and I can build a relationship where their nervous system actually feels safe enough to do the work. When that relationship exists, the modalities do their job. When it doesn't, no technique can compensate.
What works
- Phase-based pacing. Stabilization before reprocessing, every time.
- Body-awareness woven into every modality.
- EMDR and IFS combined — they cover each other's gaps beautifully.
- A consult that's actually a consult, not a sales pitch.
- Honest pacing expectations.
- Letting clients lead on how fast we move and what we touch.
What doesn't
- Rushing.
- Pretending I have the answer when I don't.
- Treating someone's faith as a problem to solve.
- Treating someone's faith as if it has all the answers.
- Diagnosing instead of understanding.
- Bringing too much theory into the room when what the client needs is presence.
What I want clients to know
You don't have to have it figured out before you walk in. You don't have to know whether what happened "counts." You don't have to be on the verge of crisis to deserve good care. You don't have to perform your worst symptoms to be taken seriously.
Therapy works best when you can show up exactly as you are — including the parts that don't want to be here, the parts that don't trust the process, the parts that are skeptical of me.
I work slowly because the work is sacred. I am unhurried because the nervous system can't be rushed. I am Christian because that is how I understand the world, and I am clinically trained because faith is not a substitute for skill.
And I am grateful — for the clients who have trusted me with their stories, for the Austin community I get to serve, for the chance to do work that matters.
If you're carrying something and wondering whether to start, I would love to talk with you. The 15-minute consult exists for exactly that. No pressure. Just a conversation.