This image holds a powerful reminder of how our perceptions can be misleading. It’s a photo of rocks that, from a particular angle, appear as a person quietly sitting in water, reading a book. The visual illusion mirrors the inner landscape of trauma recovery: assumptions about appearances can lead to profound misunderstandings.

When I first saw this image, it resonated with a deep part of me, surfacing wounds from times when I was misjudged, or my intentions were misunderstood. I thought back to moments when, instead of being asked for clarification, conclusions were jumped to, judgments were made, and these opinions were held as “fact.” And once people believe their perception to be true, there’s often little room left for understanding, or for compassion. It can be deeply painful to feel that someone wants to believe the worst, consciously or unconsciously. Such experiences can feel like a loss, and I find myself feeling sad for those who cling to assumptions rather than seeking connection.

In my journey through trauma recovery, I’ve had to carefully choose a small circle of people who embody kindness, acceptance, and understanding. I no longer have the energy for criticism and judgments that stem from others’ unresolved fears and insecurities. I’ve reached a point where my healing journey cannot coexist with others’ unmet shame or the finger-pointing that often accompanies it.

Constructive feedback, shared gently and with care, has its place. I appreciate when people express concerns using a compassionate approach, which softens the message and shows that it comes from a place of love rather than judgment. But when criticism becomes harsh or unjust, or when accusations are made, there comes a time to draw a line.

There’s a unique layer of difficulty for childhood trauma survivors, who too often find themselves the target of uninformed or hurtful opinions. Unsolicited advice from those lacking trauma awareness can cause more harm than healing. Criticism, particularly when disguised as concern, can feel more like an attack than support. Childhood trauma survivors have endured enough of this throughout their lives, often internalizing it until self-compassion feels like a distant hope.

For years, I absorbed criticism, both from others and from myself, struggling to see my own worth. Healing has allowed me to shift the lens I use to view myself and others. With a healthy sense of self, I now recognize that harsh criticism often comes from a place of hurt and fear. While I understand the pain behind the critical mindset, I’m choosing not to expose myself to it any longer. My mental health and peace require an environment of love, respect, and acceptance.

Like so many trauma survivors, I hope that others can eventually open their hearts and minds, gaining the insight needed to support without judgment. For those who care for trauma survivors, I ask that you approach with humility and curiosity. Strive for a perspective based on understanding, ask questions, and be open to growth and change. Sometimes, things are not as they seem. Remember that rock formation — it reminds us that assumptions can obscure the truth.

Stay open, and stay curious.