Week 1: Little “t” Trauma — The Small Cuts That Shape Us

Some injuries aren’t loud. They don’t make headlines. They arrive in drops. A comment here, an assumption there—a steady trickle of microaggressions, dismissive interactions, and subtle exclusions.

If you imagine the nervous system as a glass of water, each of these moments is a drop. One or two? The glass can hold it. But over time, without release or repair, the water rises. Sooner or later, it spills over—and spillover gets messy.

Little “t” trauma is that slow, cumulative fill. It’s being talked over in meetings, having your identity questioned, navigating spaces that aren’t accessible, feeling unseen because of your gender, sexuality, race, ability, or neurotype. Over years, it changes how we brace for the next interaction.

In trauma-informed design, we can’t drain the glass for someone, but we can shape technology so it doesn’t add more than it must—and sometimes even lets a little evaporate through clarity, respect, and calm.

And this matters now more than ever. As we inevitably move toward more automation and more streamlined, AI-enabled workflows, we have to pause and ask: What will this interaction do to a person’s nervous system? Will it escalate them into fight-or-flight—or will it meet them in a place where they can stay present, engaged, and resourced?

We can build technology that is clear, respectful, and calming—systems that are graceful in their flow, direct in their purpose, pleasurable to use, and helpful in guiding someone through. This isn’t about being soft; it’s about being smart. Every reduction in friction, every downregulating design choice, makes it easier for someone to complete their task without adding to their load.

Because at the end of the day, the measure of success is not just “Did they get through the workflow?”—but “Did they leave feeling just a bit more capable, a bit more in control, maybe even a bit proud?” That’s where the digital delight lives.