Learning the Language of Trauma
Understanding the Behaviours of Traumatised Children
Have you ever tried learning a new language? For some people, it's an exciting challenge. For others, it can feel like hard work—confusing, slow, and unnatural. Now imagine this: what if a traumatised brain speaks its own language? One that most of us don’t intuitively understand?
We often talk about how early experiences shape a child’s view of the world. But it’s more than just perspective – it’s about how the brain learns to “speak.” When a child experiences trauma, their brain wires itself in response to those experiences. A situation is presented (input), their brain interprets it (process), and then they respond (output) - all based on what they’ve previously learned about relationships, safety, and survival.
Experience Builds the Brain
Let’s look at two very different beginnings.
If, as a baby, you cried and someone responded (fed you, held you, soothed you) you’d begin to associate distress with comfort and learn that asking for help works. This sets the foundation for a brain that feels safe to trust others.
But what if no one came when you cried? What if you were left to deal with hunger, discomfort, loneliness - all on your own? For a baby, those unmet needs aren’t just inconvenient. They’re life-threatening. And because babies can’t reason or problem-solve like adults, the brain adapts in the only way it can: it stops expecting help. It learns, “Crying doesn’t work. No one comes. I’m on my own. I’m not worth responding to.”
Over time, this becomes what we call the internal working model, a deep-rooted belief system about the self and others. These children don’t consciously think these thoughts, but they live them through their behaviour, every day.
Trauma in the Classroom
Now imagine this child, years later, sitting in a classroom. They’re stuck on a maths question (input). They could ask for help, but their trauma-wired brain remembers: help doesn’t come. So, the brain translates (process): “I’m not good enough.” The response (output)? Disrupt the class, shut down, hide under the table, stare into space, copy another student...whatever coping strategy feels safest in that moment.
Sound familiar?
To the untrained eye, these behaviours might look like defiance or laziness. But if we speak the language of trauma, we see something else entirely: a child doing what they’ve learned to do to survive.
Trauma is a Language
Just like spoken language, trauma is learned through repetition. A traumatised child speaks through behaviour because that’s how their brain learned to communicate. And just like learning a new language takes time, unlearning the language of trauma, and replacing it with a language of trust and safety, takes years.
That’s where the adults come in.
The parent, carer, teacher, or therapist who works with that child needs to learn their language. We must understand why a child reacts the way they do, what their behaviours are communicating, and how to respond in a way that feels safe and supportive.
If we don’t, we risk labelling trauma responses as “bad” or “naughty” behaviour, which only reinforces the child’s belief that they’re not good enough, not worth helping, or not safe to be themselves.
The Power of Patience
Think about how long it takes a child to learn to speak: from babbling to sentences to holding a conversation. Years. And even then, their vocabulary keeps growing. Learning a new emotional language is no different. For a child who has experienced early trauma, learning to trust, to ask for help, to regulate emotions are not automatic. They require repetition, modelling, consistency, and lots of patience.
If we truly want to support children who have experienced trauma, we need to slow down, tune in, and learn their language. Only then can we help them learn a new one, one of connection, safety, and healing.
Until we take the time to understand them, they will continue to feel misunderstood. But when we do? That’s when transformation begins.
The challenge of learning another language