Living in the Orange Light: Understanding Ambivalence in Trauma Healing

By Olga Konyakova, LCSW, CADC
Therapist for Women with Complex Trauma | EMDR & Parts Work | Psychodynamic Approach

As a trauma therapist working with women navigating the complexities of life, career, relationships—and often the invisible weight of childhood wounds—I hear one phrase more than any other:

“I feel stuck.”

Stuck between leaving and staying. Between saying yes and saying no. Between feeling so much and feeling nothing at all. This in-between space—the  orange light—is often not just indecision. It’s ambivalence. And it’s far more complex than it seems.

Today, I want to unpack ambivalence through two powerful lenses: Polyvagal Theory and Internal Family Systems (IFS). My hope is that you can begin to see that what feels like frustrating paralysis is actually a kind of inner wisdom—albeit in conflict—trying to protect you.

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Ambivalence: When the System Says “Go” and “Stop” at the Same Time

If you're someone who feels one foot in and one foot out—of your relationship, your job, even your own healing—you may be living in a nervous system contradiction.

Polyvagal Theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, helps us understand how our body reacts to safety and danger. It maps our responses into three broad states:

  • Green (Ventral Vagal): Safe, connected, calm

  • Red (Dorsal Vagal): Shut down, numb, hopeless

  • Yellow (Sympathetic): Mobilized, anxious, angry, ready to act

But what if you're not fully in any of these zones?

What if you're somewhere between the fire of frustration and the freeze of numbness—between yelling “I’ve had enough” and collapsing into “I can’t deal with this”?

That space—the chronic orange zone (as mentioned by Paula M., my EMDR consultant)—is where many trauma survivors live. It’s where action meets inaction. Where your body is geared up to do something, but your internal brakes keep getting slammed down.

This isn’t a failure. This is a nervous system caught in a loop.

You may be angry, even enraged, but unable to express it. You may want to make a bold move in your life—but feel paralyzed with shame or guilt the moment you take a step. You’re trying to protect yourself from real or remembered danger. And your body remembers more than your mind does.


IFS Perspective: When Your Parts Disagree

From an Internal Family Systems (IFS) lens, ambivalence often shows up as two (or more) “parts” of you locked in a standoff:

  • part that wants change—to leave, to speak up, to take that risk.

  • part that holds fear—of rejection, of failing, of not being good enough.

Both parts are protectors. Both are trying to help in the best way they know how.

And at the center? Often a young, vulnerable part that was once overwhelmed, hurt, or abandoned. These protector parts fight on its behalf—but often against each other.

It’s like a relationship therapy session inside your own mind: one side shouting “We can’t live like this!” while the other whispers, “But it’s not safe to leave.” And neither side feels heard. So nothing happens. Except the rising tide of self-doubt, confusion, and burnout.

Ambivalence Is a Form of Protection

Ambivalence is not a flaw. It is a strategy—an intelligent, adaptive, and once-necessary form of self-protection.

It may have started in childhood when:

  • You weren’t allowed to have clear needs.

  • You learned to defer decisions to someone else.

  • You only felt safe when others were pleased.

  • The people who were supposed to protect you were also the ones who hurt or neglected you.

Back then, you had little control. Change was not in your hands—it was in the environment, in the adults, in the moods of people more powerful than you. So now, your nervous system still looks outside of you for clarity, permission, or safety.

This is what ambivalence protects: the fear of choosing wrong and ending up alone, unsafe, or unloved.

The Cost of Chronic Ambivalence

Living in this in-between space is exhausting. It's like standing at a yellow light that never turns green or red. You’re revving the engine while pressing the brake. You’re waiting—for a sign, for someone to decide, for a guarantee that it’s going to be okay.

In this place, frustration builds, action stalls, and the shame of “Why can’t I just move forward?” can become overwhelming.

But here’s the truth:

You are not lazy.
You are not broken.
You are not weak.

You are protecting yourself with the best tools your nervous system and inner parts developed—likely at a time when you had no other options.

Reclaiming Control: Gentle Steps Toward Self-Leadership

Healing ambivalence doesn’t mean forcing a decision or choosing sides. It means learning to listen inward.

  • Can you ask your parts what they’re afraid of?

  • Can you begin to notice when your nervous system shifts into overwhelm or freeze?

  • Can you honor that hesitation has wisdom?

And over time, can you begin to lead yourself, not by force, but by curiosity and compassion?

When your parts trust that you—not your fear, not your past, not another person—are in charge, the war inside begins to soften. Decisions become less terrifying. Action becomes possible.

You Are Allowed to Want More

To the woman who is stuck, who is scared, who is trying so hard to make the right move: You are not alone in your ambivalence. It is not a sign that something is wrong with you. It’s a sign that something inside is protecting something tender—and that is an incredibly brave thing to do.

With the right support—whether through therapy, parts work, nervous system regulation, or community—you can begin to move out of the yellow light.

You can begin to trust yourself again.

And maybe, for the first time, move forward from a place of wholeness, not fear.

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If this resonates with you and you’d like to explore this work more deeply, I offer trauma-informed therapy for women navigating complex trauma, relational wounds, and life transitions. You don’t have to figure this all out alone.

Let’s begin, gently, together.

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The Reality of a Perfectionist: Healing the Invisible Weight of Responsibility