Why “Talk Therapy” Wasn’t Enough for Me
- Author Honey Badger

- Jan 9
- 3 min read
Talk therapy gave me language. It did not give my body safety.
This is not a rejection of therapy. It is an acknowledgment of its limits—particularly for trauma that did not end when the event ended but lived on inside the nervous system.
For a long time, I believed that if I could understand what happened clearly enough, if I could explain it coherently, my body would eventually fall in line. I believed insight would lead to ease. I believed articulation was progress.
What I learned instead was quieter.
My mind could describe the trauma long before my body believed it was over.
Insight Outpaced Capacity
In therapy, I learned how to name what happened. I learned the patterns, the dynamics, the psychological frameworks. I learned how to tell the story without breaking down.
That competence was praised.
But competence is not the same as regulation.
I could speak calmly while my body remained braced. I could make meaning while my nervous system stayed alert. I could understand the past while my physiology continued to respond as if it were still happening.
There is a point where awareness outpaces capacity. When that happens, the body does not catch up—it protects itself.
And protection can look like numbness, dissociation, fatigue, or a sudden loss of words altogether.
When Language Becomes Another Demand
For survivors of Military Sexual Trauma, talking is often required long before it is chosen. Statements are taken. Accounts are evaluated. Credibility is measured.
Over time, language can become associated with threat rather than relief.
So even in a supportive therapeutic space, the body may respond to questions with tightening or withdrawal. Not because the therapist is unsafe—but because the nervous system remembers what happens when it is asked to speak.
This is not resistance. It is memory.
When therapy focuses primarily on recounting, interpreting, or analyzing, it can unintentionally ask the body to return to a state it learned to survive by leaving.
The Missing Layer
What talk therapy could not provide was a direct way to meet what was happening below language.
It could help me understand why I dissociated. It could not teach my body how to stay.
It could name hypervigilance. It could not soften it.
It could contextualize my responses. It could not re-negotiate them.
That work required a different entry point—one that did not begin with explanation, but with sensation, pacing, and choice.
No One Modality Is Enough
This is not an argument for replacing talk therapy. It is an argument for not asking it to do what it was never designed to do alone.
Trauma lives in layers. Healing often does too.
For me, progress began when therapy was no longer the center, but one support among others. When the body was given its own language. When safety was allowed to arrive without being justified.
Talk therapy helped me know what happened. Somatic movement and sound helped my body know when it was over.
Both mattered. Neither was sufficient on its own.
Choosing What Actually Helped
Letting go of the idea that one approach should work was a form of agency.
It allowed me to stop performing insight and start listening for regulation. It allowed healing to be quiet, non-linear, and deeply private. It allowed the body to lead without being corrected.
Talk therapy was not enough for me. That does not make it a failure.
It simply means my healing required more than words.
This essay is original work authored and published under the pen name Author Honey Badger. All writing in this series is protected intellectual property. Sharing for reading is welcome; reproduction, reposting, adaptation, or attribution without permission is not authorized.
© 2026 Author Honey Badger. All Rights Reserved.



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