The concept of post-traumatic growth (PTG) is relatively new to me. Last year I was introduced to how trauma can assist us in leading us to change, and it has preoccupied my thinking since.
I think a majority of us will have heard of or know something about post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - a disorder characterised by failure to recover after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event. PTSD is real, it is diagnosable, and it is terrible, and I feel for anyone who suffers from it. I also have no permission or standing to comment on it because I am not a medical professional and it is something that I have never experienced or suffered.
Now, the concept of post-traumatic growth is not new. Think about the themes of transformative consequences and catharsis in the writings of the ancient Greeks and their tragedies. Also, Hinduism and Siddhartha, Christianity and Jesus, Islam and the “journey heavenward” – as far as I am aware, most (if not all) organised religions rely on some sort of trauma in their teachings to engage followers and encourage personal growth. I also can’t think of a piece of literature (books, movies, TV) that doesn’t deal with PTG in some way, shape or form.
Negative events tend to produce consequences that are negative. But from the research that I’ve read, our encounter with very negative events can also produce positive psychological change – changes in the perception of self, changes in the experience of relationships with others, and changes in our general philosophy of life.
Trauma is relative. I could say that some of my lived experiences were traumatic, and for me and my privileged existence, they were. But because I’m a white, middle-class, cisgender male, this trauma pales in comparison to other traumas lived by those who are not afforded the same privileges.
Anyway, my intention is to share how one of my traumas (albeit completely insignificant in the scheme of things) has allowed me to experience post-traumatic growth in some way or another.
I don’t want to get too deep here but hoping to connect what I’m thinking and some of my experiences and observations with what is currently happening in the world.
As Kelly Clarkson once said, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”.
I was an extremely competitive child. I wasn’t necessarily excellent at participation sport or academics for that matter. Yes, I worked hard (to a certain extent) but I was far too competitive for my own good. I measured achievement and success based on the standards and achievements of others, not myself. Working in education has allowed me to further understand how we measure success and the way it can be detrimental to the development of young people if not carried out correctly.
From as early as I can remember, and even to this present day, my siblings have provided me with competition to better myself. When I was younger, they would ask me to retrieve things for them that were a distance away. For example, they would ask for a piece of fruit from the kitchen, or a book from the study, or something that our mum had just baked. In order to coerce me into getting it for them, they would tell me that they would ‘time me’. Did this work? Absolutely. Every single time. Does it still work? Yes, because there’s a part of Young Will inside me who still believes that being competitive will better who I am.
From 2000 until about 2005 tennis was one of my sports of choice. Now, I wasn’t necessarily the best out there, but I wasn’t terrible. I’ve gotten better over the years at watching what people do and how to copy it. So, I’d watch players I admired and tried to replicate what I saw. Mark Philippoussis’ serve, Lleyton Hewitt’s backhand, Pete Sampras’ forehand, and Pat Rafter’s volley. Could I reproduce what I saw? To an extent, but not perfectly or repeatedly.
So, when I hit the ball out, into the net, or if I didn’t connect at all, I would lose it. And I mean LOSE it. I broke two tennis rackets whilst playing (one was by accident when it flew out of my hand whilst serving), and another was because I purposely hit on the ground. My parents rightly didn’t buy me another one.
I once threw a chair at my brother for a reason I cannot remember. He caught it in one hand and had the complete right to throw it back at me and cause quite the injury. Did he? No. Why? I think deep down inside he saw how much I wanted to control my temper, but just couldn’t.
Back to the tennis. My mum used to drive me each Saturday to matches across South Gippsland, and multiple times she drove off on me whilst I was playing because she was so ashamed of my behaviour on the court. I would have too. It was disgusting. It didn’t get better until I started playing with and against some child prodigies who were much better than me. Yes, they were great, but a couple of them used to throw tantrums that seemed all too familiar.
Was this how people viewed my behaviour? Did I want to be seen to be a terrible role model? Well, as the sage Delta Goodrem once said, “no, not me, not I”.
I saw this behaviour and how I didn’t like it. I reflected on how this must have been for others who played with, those I played against, and those who watched (sorry mum). I guess seeing other people behave in a way that I could connect with shocked me.
This new self-awareness threw me into a crisis, and somehow it transformed my outwardly presented behaviour almost instantly. Although this was not necessarily an example of a huge struggle with highly challenging life circumstances, it allowed me to grow and see changes in self-perception, the experience in my relationships with others, and changes in my general life philosophy. Looking back and evaluating, I can see this as a form of post-traumatic growth.
Below is a visual that may help in understanding what happened:
Now, I’m not saying that it was just this one instance that transformed me, and I’m not saying that this is the most perfect example of post-traumatic growth, but its effects have been lasting. Ever since this moment, I have been able to self-reflect when things become a bit much, and instead of measuring my success against what others achieve, I work on bettering myself.
My Apple Watch is amazing because it keeps me accountable every single day for what I’m physically doing. Yes, it measures calories burnt, exercise minutes, and how many hours I’ve stood, but I believe its main benefit (and the most fun feature) is its heart rate monitor. How am I competitive about my heart rate? Well, I try to keep it as low as possible, of course.
My resting HR sits pretty low. If it somehow scoots above my normal average, I make a conscious effort to bring it down. And do you know how hard it is to bring down your heart rate when it’s all you’re focusing on? It’s like trying to calm down when someone who you definitely don’t want to tell you to calm down tells you to calm down.
My Dyson Pure Hot+Cool™ Purifier Fan Heater is possibly the most indulgent purchase I’ve ever made. Why did I buy it? A friend had one and the air quality was superb. I never woke up with a sore throat, I never thought “gee, I’m a bit cold”, and its analysis of air quality was something that I had never experienced. You may be thinking, “Will, being competitive about your air quality is ridiculous”, and to you, I say, “keep breathing your inferior air.”
It measures the indoor air quality every 12 seconds, including particulate matter (PM2.5 and PM10), volatile organic compounds, nitrogen dioxide and other oxidising gases, indoor temperature, and humidity. When my air quality drops to ‘fair’ from ‘good’, I instantly question how I can better what I do to improve it. Vacuuming is a daily occurrence, surfaces have never been more pristine, and I open windows and doors when the outdoor AQI is better than inside.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that although we may go through traumas, there is a great possibility to grow from them in the aftermath. However, it is important that the events are challenging enough to set in motion the cognitive processing available for growth. Just because trauma happens, doesn’t mean growth will occur. It’s how we respond to the trauma that matters.
Let’s put this into perspective for what is currently happening in our world. Yes, there is a pandemic, and yes, we are all experiencing a certain amount of trauma. Can we change what is happening? On a global scale, probably not individually. But on a personal level, yes. We can be as competitive as we want in taking care of and bettering our own health. In doing so, you are demonstrating pro-social behaviour that intends to benefit other people and society as a whole. And on the other side of this trauma, given you have the ability to cognitively process (think about, analyse, reflect) what has happened, you can pretty much guarantee there’ll be some sort of post-traumatic growth.
So, instead of focusing on what we can’t control, let’s focus on what we can. I know that being competitive with myself has provided me with hours of entertainment. Do I always win? Of course not. And when I do lose, I take something from those little traumas and put them into motion to help myself to grow.
Bill
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