What a week it was!
Healing isn’t linear — it loops, dips, and sometimes doubles back. For me, NeuroFeedback became one of those gentle nudges that reminded my nervous system it didn’t have to stay in survival mode.
I don’t know how many years into healing I was when I finally tried NeuroFeedback. I just know it had been nearly twenty years since I first walked into an emergency shelter for domestic violence. Twenty years of surviving, healing, working, growing — and still, my trauma response could light up like a wildfire. I was quick to anger. Not because I didn’t care, but because my body had learned that staying ready meant staying safe.
I had already done so much work. I wasn’t looking for a miracle — I was looking for space inside myself. I wanted to stop bracing all the time. I wanted to reason through situations instead of reacting. I had moments of clarity and softness, but they were still fighting through an undercurrent of fear that never fully shut off.
What Led Me There
The decision to try NeuroFeedback wasn’t about fixing something — it was about expanding what was possible. I had heard enough survivors talk about it to know it wasn’t hype. Some said it made them feel like they had more choice in their own reactions. Others said it gave them better sleep or less startle. That was enough for me to at least try.
But let me be honest — the only way I could do it was because of community. My work gave me the flexibility I needed to go through the protocol, and my sister gave me a place to stay while I squeezed the sessions in between meetings, planning, healing work, and just… life. I did it in a whirlwind — trying to keep it affordable, trying not to lose momentum, trying not to lose myself.
What It Was Like
NeuroFeedback isn’t flashy. There are no huge revelations. No dramatic therapy breakthroughs. It’s quiet. Gentle. Subtle. I’d sit with sensors connected to my scalp, watching a screen and listening to tones that trained my brain to come out of old patterns and into something calmer, steadier.
At first, I was skeptical. I didn’t feel anything during the sessions. But over time, things shifted.
What Changed
I noticed that I was reasoning better. Not everything felt so urgent. My anger didn’t disappear — it just started to wait a little longer before jumping in. I had more access to the calm part of my mind, the part that could pause before reacting.
It wasn’t magic. But it helped.
And when you’ve been living with trauma for decades, any shift that gives you more choice, more room to breathe, more ability to stay present — it’s worth everything.
A Note to You
If you’re a survivor still healing — no matter how long it’s been — I want you to know that there are still new doors that can open. NeuroFeedback might not be the right one for everyone, but for me, it gave my nervous system a different rhythm. It reminded me that I’m not broken — I’m just wired for survival. And survival doesn’t have to be the only setting.
You deserve softness. You deserve support. You deserve to try things that make room for a fuller life, even if it’s one gentle nudge at a time.
🌱 Further Reading & A Note of Gratitude
I was able to participate in NeuroFeedback thanks to a partnership through the Houston Area Women’s Center. Their support — along with the flexibility of my workplace and the care of my sister — made healing more accessible.
📖 Read more about HAWC and their work with survivors here.
