We Need to Think About Trauma in Treating Autoimmune Disorders
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In this reported op-ed, Anna Wolfe explores how trauma and autoimmune disorders may be related in women.
At 19, my body was shutting down and my mental health was faltering. My face had gone numb, my breathing was growing strained, and double vision had set in. I was terrified, but when I went to a doctor, they brushed it off as “anxiety.” Like many women who feel ignored by doctors, I turned to Google for answers. I decided it must be anxiety after all and dragged myself to work, even as the paralysis started to spread to my arms.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis (MG), a rare autoimmune disease that weakens muscles and can cause life-threatening respiratory crises and, in my case, a tumor. Doctors told me to avoid emotional and physical stress to prevent a “crisis,” but the irony was glaring — everything they were asking me to steer clear of was why my illness had developed in the first place.
Autoimmune diseases affect around 24 to 50 million Americans, and according to Stanford Medicine, 4 out of 5 of those affected are women. Yet for decades, researchers used men’s bodies as the default for “normal.” Donna Jackson Nakazawa, award-winning science journalist and author, brought my attention to something shocking — it wasn’t until 2016 that the National Institutes of Health (NIH) required researchers to study how diseases, including stress, impact women specifically. These illnesses manifest uniquely in each person, but treatments rarely follow suit, often relying on “one-size-fits-all” approaches that can be ineffective and harmful —especially for women and marginalized communities.
“Social-emotional stress provokes the immune system the most,” explains Jackson Nakazawa, and higher estrogen levels only amplify the immune response, making women more vulnerable to autoimmune conditions. With young girls entering puberty earlier than ever, she puts it plainly: Autoimmune disorders “aren’t only about biology — they’re about how social and emotional stress impacts that biology uniquely.”
Society doesn’t just deprioritize women’s pain, it teaches us to minimize it. “We’re told to push through,” Jackson Nakazawa says. “This is partly a function of patriarchy; we’re not taught that our needs should come first.” Childhood trauma especially leaves a lasting imprint. Studies like one from Dr. DeLisa Fairweather, PhD, at the Mayo Clinic show that every adverse childhood experience — like neglect, emotional abuse, or feeling unseen — increases a woman’s risk of developing a serious autoimmune disease by 20%. This stress doesn’t just linger in your mind; it leaves tracks in your body because trauma rewires how you process stress, according to Jackson Nakazawa, creating an overactive immune system that eventually wears down and starts attacking itself.
For me, experiences like sexual assault created the perfect storm. I didn’t just feel my pain, I carried it like an invisible weight that seemed to grow heavier every year. It was like my body was screaming for attention in ways I couldn’t control.
Stress doesn’t affect everyone equally. “In LGBTQ+ research, we talk about how stress literally gets under the skin,” says Dr. Alison Cerezo, PhD, leading researcher and psychologist specializing in LGBTQ+ Health, Trauma, and Social Justice. “Compounded stress over long periods reduces our ability to ward off disease. That’s why you see higher rates of illnesses like cancer and cardiovascular disease in communities facing consistent stress, often because they’re targeted communities.”
For women of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, and others in marginalized groups, the stress is compounded by systemic discrimination — both inside and outside of healthcare. Many people avoid seeking care entirely because they know the discrimination they face in daily life will likely show up in medical settings, too. “Trust in healthcare comes from people’s real-life experiences,” says Dr. Cerezo. “For providers, it’s crucial to genuinely listen and understand why that mistrust exists.”
Each person I spoke to echoed the importance of community. “Trauma dysregulates us; connection helps us re-regulate,” says Jackson Nakazawa. Whether through friends, family, mentors, or chosen communities, the most grounding thing we can do is to connect in real life.” We’re a hyper-connected generation, but when it comes to well-being and healing, the grounding effect real-life connection brings activates what Jackson Nakazawa calls 'mirror neurons,' calming the brain through safe, in-person connection. That said, the internet is often a lifeline, especially for LGBTQ+ youth. “For many,” says Dr. Cerezo, “the internet is where they find their community and learn about safe practices.” The key? “Balance scrolling with showing up for yourself and your people.”
Healing isn’t just about prescriptions or quick fixes; it’s about practices that nourish the mind and body. Dr. Esther Sternberg, MD, renowned author and expert in the science of stress, healing, and integrative health, emphasizes: “One of the most powerful things we can do is to tell our stories, honestly and openly. That’s how we connect, how we break down shame, and how we help each other heal—and in doing so, we help ourselves.”
Dr. Sternberg also highlights the role of altruism in recovery. “Altruistic love — helping others without expecting anything in return — benefits both the person you’re helping and yourself. It’s healing in itself to give that way.”
Her own healing journey taught her to embrace a holistic approach. “I came to realize the importance of practicing what the Andrew Weil Center for Integrative Medicine calls the seven domains of Integrative Health. I was sleeping well, eating healthy, being in nature, connecting with people—all things that allowed my medications to do their best job to help me heal.”
Women’s health is not a unique issue — it’s a systemic crisis. The United Nations estimates it will take 300 years to achieve gender equality at the current pace. But we don’t have to wait for someone else to fix this. Change is already happening, with work from advocates like Jackson Nakazawa, Dr. Sternberg, and Dr. Cerezo, alongside grassroots organizations that are creating spaces for healing and understanding. They’re showing us that solutions exist not just in science, but in how we treat each other and ourselves.
Living with MG taught me that healing isn’t about finding one single destination, it’s about letting go of old stories and embracing the now. Women’s health deserves more than just attention. It deserves a revolution. And it starts with us.
Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue