You know when you know things, but only theoretically, then comes a time when you get to experience it yourself, or someone very close to you experiences it?

It’s been like that with STS in my case. For years, I’ve read about it, I studied it, and even had exams from it, but all the time kept it in my head, never allowed it to sink in, and saw that it was a reality for me.

For three years, I witnessed more pain and trauma than I ever read about. I stood in the front row of suffering. I watched mothers lose their unborn babies to a broken system.

I saw children sleep in basements while their parents battled addiction. I found people lying in blood and filth, too drunk to realize the cold might kill them if they didn’t make it to a shelter.

I saw people walk with open wounds, numbed by opioids. I prayed beside dying clients. I watched some of them survive brutal accidents, get sober, and rebuild lives worth living. I brought a birthday cupcake to a man younger than me who defied death and addiction to reclaim his future.

I buried clients who held a piece of my heart. Some called me “daughter” because I reminded them of the family they lost. That hurt. Looking back, I wonder how I kept going. I find my answer in the shared strength of professionals who face the same reality.

My body cried out for help. I struggled to sleep, eat, and focus. Eventually, I broke under the weight of physical and emotional exhaustion. When a client threatened to kill me, I cracked. Migraines drained my energy for a month. Half my face collapsed. Doctors found no physiological explanation, only a sick thyroid, which they traced back to stress.

When I looked at my watch, who measure stress and body battery, my stress was high and medium the entire working hours and never got too low during my awake time.

We call this Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS).

And like me, millions of professionals around the world experience the same and keep showing up to work in silence because they don’t feel supported or safe to open up.

In the quiet corners of hospitals, classrooms, courtrooms, and crisis centers, emotional fatigue is taking root. It’s not just burnout. It’s not just stress. Secondary trauma leaves behind emotional residue when we witness the pain of others.

We celebrate the resilience of frontline workers, caregivers, social workers, and emergency responders. We could see that during the pandemic (the most traumatic experience the free and not so free world experienced in the last decades). But their strength hides a vulnerability we rarely acknowledge, the emotional toll they carry when they absorb trauma that doesn’t belong to them.

Secondary trauma shows up in subtle ways: irritability, numbness, sleep disturbances, or a creeping sense of hopelessness. Some call it weakness, but in reality, it is humanity we are afraid to show or look at as a society.

Studies show that up to 25% of healthcare professionals experience significant symptoms of Secondary Traumatic Stress. And yet, many suffer in silence.

What Is Secondary Trauma?

Professionals experience secondary trauma, also known as Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS) or vicarious trauma, when they absorb the impact of traumatic experiences shared by the people they serve.

You will see it in the police departments, army, healthcare, psychologists, social workers, lawyers, mediators, and first aid workers, the journalist in the war zone, the teacher who sees the signs but feels powerless, the public worker who sees the needs but the bureaucracy is too big. For example, listening to stories of abuse, loss, violence, or despair, day after day, can leave deep emotional effects when there is no support system for the professionals to process and let go ot the load they carry indirectly.

How to recognize the signs

Secondary trauma doesn’t always enter a room and announce itself screaming. It creeps in quietly, often mistaken for simple fatigue or irritability.

Here is how it shows up:

• Emotional exhaustion, anxiety, or numbness (all signs and points in diagnosing burnout).
• Difficulty sleeping or concentrating.
• Cynicism or detachment from work (do you remember the angry person at the desk when you asked “too many questions”?).
• Physical symptoms like headaches or muscle tension, with no medical reason.

Ignoring and neglecting those symptoms causes burnout, strains relationships, and triggers PTSD-like responses, especially in professions where lives depend on every decision.

Who should we protect more?

EVERYONE, even though we have data to tell us where to pay extra attention.

The numbers are sobering (I hope):

• Healthcare workers: Up to 25% report significant STS symptoms
• Social workers: Around 34% in child welfare roles experience high levels of STS
• Emergency responders: Nearly 1 in 5 show signs of secondary trauma
• Journalists: Especially war correspondents, with PTSD rates as high as 28.6%

STS numbers in the Netherlands:

• Post-Traumatic Stress Trends: A 2025 analysis by the Netherlands Institute for Health Services Research (Nivel) found that about 50% of individuals with presumed PTSD had symptoms linked to intense experiences during the COVID-19 pandemic. Unrelated traumatic events, such as accidents or sexual violence, affected the other half.
• Workplace Stress & Burnout: In 2022, Dutch workers missed 2.4 million days due to emotionally demanding work. 1.6 million employees (19%) reported burnout symptoms, which can overlap with STS, especially in caregiving professions.
• Among self-employed individuals, 12% experienced burnout complaints.

We’ve gathered data on certain professions, but others—like the military, helping professionals, HR, legal, and customer service—face Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS) every day they show up to work, whether or not the numbers reflect their reality.

What can you do?

Every organization has the responsibility to make sure it takes care of its employees as well, more than its clients/patients. In the Netherlands, there is a law for this, see the Dutch Working Conditions Act (Arbowet, Article 3 and 5).

Here is what you can do as an organization:

• Make the conversation around trauma normal: Give employees language and permission to speak up before they burn out.
• Help them build resilience: Offer workshops on emotional regulation, mindfulness, and self-care. Encourage self-care days and pay for them. This way, people can recharge without the burden of paying for or the fear of losing their jobs.
• Create safe spaces for conversation, unwind, and even crying: Peer support groups, debriefing sessions, and access to counseling, coaching, or therapy make all the difference in keeping people healthy and engaged.
• Lead your people with empathy and care: Managers and team leaders should be trained to recognize signs and respond with compassion. If you don’t yet have training in place for your managers and team leaders, this should be your number one priority. You cannot change what you don’t know.

I challenge and call you to courage and healing

It takes courage to say, “This hurts,” and an even greater courage to seek healing.

If you’re feeling the weight of others’ pain, know that you are not alone. Your empathy is a powerful gift, and you need to protect and nurture it, not let it drain or burn out. Remember, you can only pour from a full cup. 

Take care of yourself first so you have energy and resources to take care of those who need your help and care.

I dream of workplaces where compassion is met with care, and where healing is not just offered to others but embraced by everyone who shows up at work every day.

At Centered People we help organizations build trauma-informed workplaces where compassion is met with care. Together, we unlearn toxic leadership and embrace healing as a courageous act.

Together, we build a world where showing up for others doesn’t mean losing yourself.

Until next time.

Written by: Cristina Popescu – Co-Founder