EMDR
Two things happened for me when I was first introduced to EMDR.
The first was a certain degree of resistance. Coming from the world of Gestalt therapy, I found it difficult to imagine working with such a structured method. I was afraid of losing something of the spontaneity and human encounter that are so important to me.
The second was discovering its remarkable effectiveness in the treatment of trauma.
When I trained in EMDR, I was struck by something very simple.
Some people understood perfectly well what had happened to them. They had reflected on their lives for years and could speak about what they had lived through with great insight and clarity.
And yet, part of them continued to respond as though the past were still present.
A smell, a look, or a particular situation could sometimes trigger intense fear, overwhelming sadness, or a profound sense of insecurity.
It was as though one part of them knew that what had happened belonged to the past, while another continued to live it as if it were still happening.
It is this reality that EMDR seeks to transform.
When an experience is particularly distressing, the brain can become overwhelmed. The memory may not be processed in the same way and can remain linked to the emotions, bodily sensations, and beliefs that arose at the time.
This may involve major traumas such as an accident, an assault, a natural disaster, or a bereavement. It may also relate to less visible wounds: a separation, repeated humiliation, loss, or emotional wounds from childhood.
These can manifest in many different ways: anxiety, relationship difficulties, low self-confidence, intense emotional reactions, phobias, panic attacks, sleep disturbances, or physical symptoms with no apparent medical cause.
Developed in the late 1980s by the American psychologist Francine Shapiro, EMDR draws upon the brain’s natural ability to process and integrate life experiences.
During therapy, we work together to identify the circumstances that continue to influence the present. A preparation phase helps establish a sense of safety and develops the resources needed for this work.
During the sessions, the person gradually reconnects with certain aspects of the memory. Together, we explore the most significant images or moments associated with the memory, the emotions connected to it, the bodily sensations that arise when it is recalled, and the negative beliefs that may have developed at the time, such as “I am not safe,” “I am powerless,” or “I am worthless.”
The therapist then uses bilateral stimulation, most often through guided eye movements, though tactile or auditory stimulation may also be used. As the memory is reprocessed, it remains part of the person’s history, but it gradually loses its emotional intensity. Physical tension eases, new perspectives emerge, and painful conclusions drawn from what happened slowly give way to a more balanced and compassionate understanding of oneself, others, and the world.
This process is not always easy. Certain emotions may resurface and need to be welcomed and explored. However, the person is never pushed beyond what feels manageable. They remain free to slow down, pause, or continue at a later time. The work unfolds at a pace that respects both their rhythm and their resources.
Throughout my practice, I have often been moved by the extent to which this approach helps people reclaim a greater sense of freedom. Not because the past has disappeared, but because it no longer holds the same power over their lives.
EMDR helps people reprocess painful memories from the past so that they can finally take their rightful place within their personal history, rather than continuing to shape the present.