I’m currently reading The Myth of Normal by Gabor Maté.
I’m not finished with it yet, and that feels important to say. This isn’t a book that invites speed. It’s dense, wide-ranging, and quietly unsettling. The kind of book that makes you pause, reread passages, and notice how your body responds as much as your mind.
What it explores, in part, is trauma – not just as something personal or dramatic, but as something shaped by families, culture, and the wider systems we live inside. Trauma that doesn’t always arrive through obvious events, but through long-term patterns: emotional absence, chronic stress, the need to adapt early, or the pressure to perform and conform.
One idea that’s stayed with me is Maté’s framing of trauma as something internal rather than purely event-based. As he puts it:
“Trauma is not what happens to you, but what happens inside you.”
That distinction shifts the focus. It’s less about what we can point to, and more about how the nervous system learns to survive.
What’s struck me most so far is the question the book quietly raises about normality. How much of what we accept as normal in modern life may actually be deeply misaligned with human wellbeing.
We live in a culture that places huge emphasis on growth, productivity, material success, and individual achievement. These ideas aren’t presented as options. They’re treated as givens. And over time, they shape not just how we live, but how we see ourselves.
I work in the world of luxury. I design and make beautiful objects. I’m part of an economy that values material things.
Reading this book hasn’t made me reject that. But it has sharpened my awareness of the damaging effects a materialistic, growth-obsessed, and highly individualistic culture can have on us – especially when value becomes detached from meaning, connection, or care.
What’s also landed for me is how our internal responses aren’t just psychological. They’re physical.
There are moments when it feels as though we can’t choose how we react. Old habits fire. Patterns repeat. Self-criticism arrives fully formed. That experience isn’t new to me. What feels new is taking seriously the idea that these patterns don’t just affect mood or mindset, but long-term health.
A persistent inner critic. Chronic stress. Emotional suppression. These aren’t just uncomfortable states. Over years, they may become medically significant. Nervous system events. Immune system events. Reactions that accumulate.
Seen this way, how we respond to the world isn’t just a personal matter. It’s a biological one.
I’m still reading. Still sitting with it.
No conclusions yet. Just attention.
This is a book that has floored me not because it shouts, but because it quietly insists on being taken seriously. I suspect I’ll return to it more than once.
