In today’s politically charged and emotionally exhausting world, many leaders and staff members are feeling stretched, disillusioned, or overwhelmed. From legislative rollbacks that threaten the safety and dignity of marginalized communities to rising workplace burnout and moral distress, the weight of our current moment can feel unbearable.

And yet, within that tension lies an invitation.

An invitation to pause.
To reflect.
And to ask:

What is mine to do? What is my unique contribution—especially now?

As a trauma-informed leadership coach and facilitator, I’ve worked with dozens of individuals and organizations navigating this exact question. The answer isn’t always immediate or obvious. But it often starts with reconnecting to purpose—not as a job title or performance metric, but as an inner compass. 

In trauma-informed leadership, purpose is not about doing more. It’s about doing what you are uniquely suited to do—with clarity, integrity, and intention.

Why Purpose Feels Hard Right Now

Let’s name something real: this is a hard time to feel purposeful.

When the world feels unpredictable or hostile, our nervous systems naturally go into protection mode. Many of us—especially those with trauma histories—have been living in a prolonged state of survival: bracing, reacting, scanning for threat. In this state, it’s nearly impossible to access the deep well of creativity and calling that purpose requires.

Instead, we fall into survival patterns:

• Over-functioning and trying to fix everything
• Withdrawing and disconnecting
• Saying yes to everything out of guilt
• Becoming reactive or avoidant
• Losing clarity about our role or impact

It’s no wonder people are exhausted.

That’s why reconnecting with purpose can feel revolutionary. It moves us from reaction to intention. From noise to signal. From burnout to clarity.

But it has to begin with a trauma-informed understanding of how purpose actually lives in our bodies, choices, and work.

What Trauma-Informed Leadership Says About Purpose

In trauma-informed leadership, we understand that trauma—whether personal, collective, or systemic—disrupts our sense of:

• Safety (Is it okay to be fully myself here?)
• Agency (Do I get to choose how I contribute?)
• Worth (Does my presence matter?)
• Belonging (Am I part of something meaningful?)

Purpose can’t fully thrive without those four elements. That means when we’re supporting staff—or ourselves—in identifying purpose, we must first tend to the conditions in which purpose becomes possible. This includes:

• Creating psychologically safe spaces for exploration
• Honoring autonomy and voice
• Centering lived experience and cultural humility
• Practicing values-aligned boundaries and pacing
• Validating that “survival” is sometimes the only possible contribution—and that’s okay

Only then can we help ourselves or our teams begin to reimagine what they are uniquely here to do. Here are 5 steps you can take to help identify your unique contribution.

Step One: Reflect on What Feels Most Alive

In trauma-informed spaces, purpose often emerges not from ambition—but from aliveness.

That means starting not with, “What should I be doing?”
But instead with, “What makes me feel most human, most engaged, most myself?”

Some questions to explore:

• When do I feel most aligned with my values?
• What conversations leave me energized instead of depleted?
• What kind of problem-solving comes naturally to me?
• When in the last month did I feel proud of how I showed up?
• What do people consistently come to me for?

This isn’t just reflection—it’s data. Our nervous systems are constantly sending us messages about what feels nourishing or draining. In trauma-informed leadership, we learn to pay attention to those messages—not override them.

• Example: One leader I worked with realized she was most alive when mentoring emerging staff members—far more than when managing logistics. Her purpose wasn’t “management.” It was cultivating growth. Once she saw that, she could shift her role accordingly.

These reflections can serve as both compass and mirror, helping us name what we might have forgotten under the noise of urgency and expectation.

Step Two: Identify Your Zone of Unique Contribution

In trauma-informed practice, we often use the Zones of Control, Influence, and Acceptance to help regulate moral distress. But there’s another helpful framework we can layer in here: your Zone of Unique Contribution.

This is the sweet spot where your values, skills, and lived experience intersect. It’s where your presence is not only needed—but transformative.

To find it, ask:

• What am I especially skilled at (not just technically, but relationally)?
• What part of the mission or work resonates most with me personally?
• What lived experiences shape my insight or empathy?
• What do I understand on a soul level that others might not?

Think of your unique contribution as a trauma-informed superpower. It might be your ability to remain calm in chaos. Or your gift for turning vision into structure. Or the safety you create in a room with your presence alone.

When we know our unique contribution, we stop trying to be everything for everyone—and start being exactly what the moment needs from us.

Importantly, your unique contribution is not fixed. It evolves as you do. Being in alignment with it means checking in often, especially during seasons of change.

Step Three: Locate Your Purpose in Community

Purpose is never just an individual experience—it’s also relational.

In trauma-informed systems, we ask:

• Who are you in relationship with?
• What are you co-creating?
• How does your work ripple outward?

During challenging political times, it’s easy to feel like our purpose must be performative or public. But sometimes, the most powerful purpose lives behind the scenes, in relationships and quiet acts of resistance.

You don’t have to be the loudest in the room to lead with purpose.
You don’t have to have a formal title to change the culture.
You don’t have to have all the answers to make a meaningful impact.

Your purpose might be:

• Supporting frontline staff in a way that restores their humanity
• Holding complexity in polarized conversations
• Protecting space for joy and celebration when others forget to
• Uplifting the values that matter most, even when they’re under threat

This is especially critical in politically charged environments, where trauma-informed leaders must stay grounded in relational accountability and community care.

And just as trauma is relational, so is healing. Your purpose can be a bridge that helps others reconnect to their own purpose.

Step Four: Differentiate Between Pressure and Purpose

Here’s a key trauma-informed truth: Not every urge to contribute is coming from purpose.

Sometimes, we act from guilt.
From urgency.
From a fawn response (wanting to please those around us at the expense of our own well-being).
From the belief that “if I don’t do it, no one else will.”

That’s not purpose. That’s pressure. And while those moments may still lead to service, they’re not sustainable. Trauma-informed leadership invites us to pause and ask:

“Is this action aligned with my purpose—or am I doing it to prove my worth, avoid conflict, or manage someone else’s anxiety?”

This is where boundaries become essential. Boundaries help us preserve our purpose instead of leaking our energy into every perceived need.

Practice: Before saying yes to a new task or responsibility, ask:

• Does this align with my zone of contribution?
• Will this energize or deplete me?
• Is this the work I’m uniquely called to do—or am I stepping in from habit or fear?

When we shift from pressure to purpose, we step into our leadership with more integrity, clarity, and sustainability.

And we begin to trust that not everything is ours to carry—only what is truly ours.

Step Five: Recommit Regularly—Purpose Evolves

Purpose is not a one-time decision. It’s a living practice—one that must evolve as we grow, heal, and adapt to the world around us.

In trauma-informed leadership, we make space for that evolution. We know that:

• Burnout can distort our sense of purpose.
• Identity shifts (like caregiving, illness, or parenthood) can reshape how we contribute.
• Political or systemic upheaval may demand that we recalibrate.

Instead of resisting that change, we check in with our purpose regularly:

• What’s emerging in me now?
• Where is my energy being called?
• What old identities or habits am I ready to release?
• What new stories am I ready to live?

And sometimes, the question is simply:
“What feels most like love today?”
Because purpose, at its root, is an act of love—for ourselves, for our people, for the world we long to help shape.

In times of crisis or political regression, it can feel like we’re losing ground. But purpose reminds us: we are never powerless. Our clarity, alignment, and courage are contributions in and of themselves.

Final Thoughts: You Are Needed, Not for Everything—But for Something Specific

In a world that asks so much of us, one of the most trauma-informed things we can do is get clear about what’s truly ours to carry—and what isn’t.

Your presence, your insight, your regulation, your boundary, your story, your compassion—that is your contribution.

You don’t have to do it all.
You just have to do what is uniquely yours—in a way that honors your nervous system, your values, and your community.   

And that is more than enough.