The first time I heard the term post-traumatic growth, I groaned. Definitely inside my head and probably audibly, too. Having post-traumatic stress is exhausting. There are so many moments (and minutes and whole days and entire weeks, if not more) when it takes over your life. Inasmuch as you can think clearly in those moments, you just want everything to go back to normal. The problem for me was that I didn’t know what normal meant – I couldn’t really conceive of what my life used to be like or if I wanted to go back to it. And, for heaven’s sake, if I didn’t want to go back to the old me, what did I want the new me to look like?

Early on, I didn’t know that my struggles could be classified as post-traumatic stress. It wasn’t until after about 14 months that I read an official diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). During our sessions, none of my counselors or therapists put specific labels on my experience and it never occurred to me to ask. While in the early throes of my own personal battle (which I honestly didn’t even understand at the time was a battle), I read voraciously and asked questions of any experts I could find. Why is this happening? How come some people who experienced the same trauma aren’t struggling like I am? What does that say about me?

It was during this quest that I learned about the concept of resiliency and also discovered that people could experience positive change after a trauma. Aka, post-traumatic growth. How annoying. After all the anxiety, fear, anger, depression, confusion, and loneliness of post-traumatic stress, I was now also expected to be a better person on the other side of it. If I could ever find the other side. That was infuriating. I just wanted my life back and, even if I couldn’t figure out exactly what that meant, I resented the implication that I was somehow supposed to find the silver lining and embrace it. (I mentioned I felt anger during this time, yes?)

Though the term and study of it are relatively new, post-traumatic growth is a not a new concept. Dealing with and overcoming suffering are themes in many religions and philosophic traditions. The use of this specific term refers to the current trend, which began in the 1990s, of looking at this idea through the lens of science – to understand the underpinnings and how it impacts people’s lives.

Not everyone who experiences trauma experiences post-traumatic growth. And not everyone believes it’s a real thing anyway. How exactly does one compare his or her own life before and after a trauma? And how do you prove actual growth versus perceived growth? Pre-trauma, few if any of us measured, or even necessarily recognized, our own levels of the specific areas defined in post-traumatic growth: appreciation of life, relationships with others, possibilities, personal strength, and spiritual life. So how can we objectively do a before and after comparison?

It’s interesting to think about. My life is definitely different since my trauma. There is a dividing line, a clear before and after in some areas of my life. And I can point to certain activities and behaviors that are different and directly attributable to the trauma and the work I’ve done to heal from it. But have I truly grown, beyond what I would have otherwise in this same time period? Or am I just looking at my life through a different lens? Honestly, I don’t spend much time thinking about that. Because I know I’m on a better trajectory than I was before; and I do see positive changes in myself and my life. That can’t be a bad thing, no matter the cause or the official term someone uses to describe it.