When Protection Becomes a Prison: Shifting Trauma Coping Strategies to Heal

A few weeks ago, Florida experienced something rare—several consecutive days of freezing temperatures. If you live here, you know that tropical plants and shrubs are not built for frost. Palm fronds curl. Hibiscus droop. Delicate greenery turns brown overnight.

So like many Floridians, we covered everything with blankets. Each evening before the temperature dropped, we wrapped our plants carefully—tucking in leaves, securing edges, making sure the vulnerable parts were protected. And each morning, when the sun rose and the air warmed, we uncovered them so they could receive light, warmth, and nourishment. Then we repeated the process again that night.

But I noticed something.

Some homes left their bushes covered all day long. Even when the sun was shining. Even when warmth had returned. The plants remained hidden under protective blankets, unable to receive the very thing that would help them recover.

And I couldn’t help but think: This is what healing from trauma and eating disorders often looks like.

The Blankets That Once Saved You

If you are a woman who has experienced trauma, you likely developed protective strategies to survive.

Anxiety.
Isolation.
Self-criticism.
Shame.
Guilt.
Perfectionism.
People-pleasing.
Restriction.
Over-exercising.
Addiction.
Emotional numbness.

These were not random flaws. They were intelligent survival responses. Your nervous system learned how to protect you. It found ways to reduce harm, avoid rejection, maintain control, or prevent overwhelming pain. In many cases, those “blankets” were lifesaving. And that matters. You are not broken. You adapted. But here is the hard truth:

what protects you in winter can suffocate you in spring.

When Coping Strategies Become Barriers

In trauma recovery, we often talk about coping skills and protective strategies. Many behaviors associated with anxiety disorders, perfectionism, or eating disorders begin as attempts to create safety.

Perfectionism can reduce criticism.
Restriction can create a sense of (perceived) control.
People-pleasing can prevent abandonment.
Self-criticism can feel like motivation.
Isolation can reduce emotional risk.

But over time, these strategies can become rigid. They stop being flexible protection and start becoming identity. Instead of shielding you from temporary danger, they begin blocking connection, growth, nourishment, and joy. Just like those plants left under blankets all day, you may be protected—but you are not receiving sunlight.

The Role of Safety in Trauma Healing

True trauma healing is not about ripping away protection overnight.

It is about discernment.

Is it still freezing?
Or has the sun come out?

Many women I work with have lived in survival mode for years—even decades. Their bodies are conditioned to expect danger. Even in safe environments, their nervous systems remain braced. This is where trauma-informed therapy and eating disorder recovery work become essential.

Healing requires gradually teaching your nervous system that warmth exists.

That connection is possible.
That your body deserves nourishment.
That mistakes do not equal rejection.
That you are safe enough to soften.

And just like uncovering plants during the day, this process must be intentional and repeated.

You cover when necessary.
You uncover when warmth returns.

Over and over again.

Reasons We Resist Letting the Sun In

Here is what many women don’t say out loud:

The blankets feel familiar.

Anxiety feels productive.
Perfectionism feels responsible.
Restriction feels disciplined.
Self-criticism feels motivating.
People-pleasing feels kind.

Letting go can feel terrifying.

If I stop striving, will I fail?
If I stop controlling food, will I spiral?
If I stop over-performing, will I be enough?
If I stop pleasing others, will they leave?

These fears are not irrational. They were shaped by lived experiences.

But healing asks a new question:

What if the sun is no longer the threat?

What if the greater risk now is staying covered?

From Survival Mode to Recovery

Recovery from trauma and eating disorders is not about eliminating protection altogether. It is about updating it.

In winter, blankets are wise.
In spring, they must be removed.

Your nervous system may not yet know that it is spring.

That is where compassionate support matters.

Trauma recovery involves:

• Learning nervous system regulation

• Releasing shame-based identity

• Developing flexible coping strategies

• Practicing embodied safety

• Rebuilding trust with your body

• Challenging perfectionism and self-criticism

• Creating relationships that do not require self-abandonment

This work is slow. Gentle. Repetitive.

But it allows light to reach places that have been hidden for years.

You Deserve the Sun

If you have been living under blankets of protection—anxiety, isolation, eating disorder behaviors, or relentless self-judgment—I want you to know something deeply:

Those strategies once helped you survive.

And now you are allowed to outgrow them.

You do not have to tear them off all at once.
You do not have to shame yourself for needing them.
You do not have to pretend it is warmer than it feels.

But if the sun is out—even a little—you are allowed to lift the blanket just enough to feel it.

Healing is not about exposure without safety.
It is about gradual warmth.

And your system can learn that warmth does not equal danger.

A Gentle Invitation

If this reflection resonates with you—if you recognize the blankets you’ve been carrying—I invite you to take one small step toward the sun.

That might look like:

• Reaching out for trauma-informed therapy

• Exploring EMDR intensives

• Beginning eating disorder recovery support

• Saying no without over-explaining

• Practicing self-compassion instead of self-criticism

You do not have to do this alone.

If you are ready to move from survival mode into sustainable healing, I would be honored to walk alongside you. Reach out to learn more about trauma-focused therapy and recovery support designed specifically for high-achieving women who are tired of living under protective layers.

The freeze does not last forever.

And neither does the need for blankets.