Pink Mist: Trauma in a Shade of Red

Have you ever questioned how life can feel so solid one moment and then, without asking permission, fall completely apart the next? One second, you’re making plans, worrying about emails, deadlines, and nonsense… and the next, everything is on fire.

Life is fleeting. We know this. We say it. And yet, when we’re in the middle of a traumatic experience, that knowledge is useless. Perspective? Gone. Priorities? Missing. All that’s left is survival mode and something that feels like a thick pink mist. Trauma doesn’t just hurt. It changes us. Profoundly. It can feel like a part of us is dying quietly, while we’re busy trying to keep functioning. And in that moment, when the world reduces itself to confusion, fear, and emotional noise, the only thing truly in sight is that mist. Just you, standing in it.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: in those moments, who you are at your core matters more than anything else. What matters is what you return to when everything else is stripped away. If, at your core, you have always loved deeply, then that love becomes your compass. And suddenly, the question isn’t “What should I achieve?” but “What actually matters?” Spoiler alert: it’s not wealth. It’s not status. Those things fade. Quickly. And when trauma shows up, they are spectacularly unhelpful.

What lasts is contentment. Family. Connection. Integrity. Being true to who you are when no one is watching and when everything feels like it’s falling apart. The pink mist eventually lifts. It always does. But when it does, the question becomes: what do you choose to carry forward?