Healing Childhood Trauma with EMDR Even If You Can’t Remember What Happened
- Apr 30, 2025
- 4 min read
Written by Kellie Sheldon, Trauma and Sex Counsellor
Kellie Sheldon specialises in helping clients overcome childhood and complex trauma, as well as sexual difficulties, to find their voices. Using human connection and evidence-based frameworks like EMDR, she boldly addresses the shame and stigma around trauma and sex, promoting healing and empowerment in her practice.
You’ve tried to talk it out. You’ve done therapy. Read the books. Said the affirmations. You’ve ‘understood’ your trauma. You’ve survived it. So why does your body still react like it’s happening all over again?
That’s what childhood trauma does. Especially the kind no one talks about childhood sexual assault (CSA), emotional neglect, or growing up in a home where no one ever asked if you were okay. It doesn’t just go away just because you got older.
Trauma isn’t what you remember, it’s what your body never forgot
You don’t need to remember it all for it to be real. You don’t need a list of events to justify the way you feel.
If you flinch when someone touches you even gently, zone out during sex or avoid it altogether, apologise for everything even when you’re hurt, shut down when things get tense, or feel broken, stuck, numb, or ashamed, that’s trauma. That’s your body still doing the job it had to do back then.
And no, you’re not dramatic, crazy or “too much.” You’re a survivor of something your system never got to finish working through. You’ve become stuck in a time warp.
So what the hell is EMDR then?
EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing. It sounds clinical and bizarre, but it helps your brain and body understand what happened back then. It then allows your nervous system to understand you are living in the present day, allowing the trauma to be something of the past.
EMDR works without needing you needing to tell every detail (unless a part of you needs to). You don’t even need the full memory. We start with what your body does know: the flinch, the shutdown, the unease. Then we use small movements like eye movements, tapping, or sounds to help your system finally process what it never could back then.
It’s not magic. But honestly? Sometimes it feels like it, wait, it is magic.
Why talking hasn’t worked
Because trauma doesn’t just live in your mind, it lives in your jaw when someone raises their voice, in your chest when a partner touches you and your body wants to escape, and in your stomach when you’re trying to rest but are still bracing for something to go wrong.
Talk therapy can be powerful. It gives you insight. But if it hasn’t helped you feel different, EMDR might be what you’ve been missing. Talking explains it. EMDR helps your body let go.
Clients share with me, “I’ve had years of therapy. But this was the first time I didn’t feel like something was wrong with me.” She didn’t have clear memories, just this awful body reaction. Every time her partner touched her in bed, she’d freeze. She thought maybe she was frigid. Or broken. Or just too damaged.
A few EMDR sessions in, she texted me: “We cuddled and I didn’t flinch. I actually wanted to stay. I didn’t feel wrong.” One of the most amazing things about using EMDR with trauma is not having to remember all the details.
You’ve spent your whole life minimising it; it was probably ignored by those you spoke to about it.
Some clients are able to remember more details about what happened, yet the emotional reaction was still less. CSA doesn’t always come with neat, movie-like flashbacks. Sometimes it just leaves behind shame you can’t shake. Or a body that shuts down during intimacy. Or a sense that something is always off.
You don’t need to relive it. We just help the parts of you that had to survive and finally rest.
So who is this for?
It’s for you if you’ve tried everything and still feel stuck. If you don’t feel safe during sex or close relationships. If you’re always bracing for something, constantly performing, pleasing, or proving. If you feel broken, but no one ever said sorry. It’s for the ones who had to keep it together when they were way too young to carry that kind of weight.
EMDR feels different for everyone
Some people cry. Some laugh. Some sleep better than they have in years. You may burp, yawn, scream, or even dissociate. Imagine you’re on a train going through a tunnel. It feels like you’re travelling faster in the tunnel, but when you come out the other side, you’ve slowed down and things are clearer. EMDR feels like this. The emotions can be intense at times, but they pass quickly.
What does life look like now?
Depending on your level of trauma, the number of EMDR sessions we need to do will vary. I can say, though, on the other side is peace. A better understanding of what happened, and how it wasn’t your fault. You’ll stop looking for exits, flinching, and overreacting. It will be okay to be with people and okay to know when to walk away. EMDR doesn’t take away your sense of safety. it allows you to recognise past from present, and stay grounded.
EMDR might seem simple, and in some ways it is. But there are parts to it I haven’t gone into here. You can’t walk into a therapist’s office and start processing a memory. There are things we need to do first, including some talking. It’s not a race. You’ll get there.
Would you like to know more? Click here or follow along @traumatherapyperth.
Read more from Kellie Sheldon
Kellie Sheldon, Trauma and Sex Counsellor
Kellie Sheldon specilises in helping her clients move through childhood, complex trauma, and sexual difficulties to find their voices. She uses psychodynamic (exploration of childhood), the body, emotions, and memories to remove the shame and stigma that is often found around complex trauma and sexualities.
Her university education, as well as practice-based evidence, has led Kellie on a mission to working with client in a unique way that empowers her clients to find their lost voices and build a life of joy and resilience. Her bold methods of working attract those who are tired of living in the shadows.
