When “Ohana” Breaks: The Trauma of Being Shunned
- Lisa Rooney
- Jul 1
- 9 min read
Updated: 3 days ago

When “Ohana” Breaks: The Trauma of Being Shunned by a Community That Once Felt Like Home
I’ve seen so many t-shirts, mugs, and Instagram reels proudly displaying the word Ohana—often with the beloved Lilo & Stitch quote: “Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind…or forgotten.”
It’s a phrase that resonates deeply with those of us who long for unconditional belonging.
Those words from the beloved animated film carry a profound emotional truth. For many of us, “family” isn’t just a matter of blood—it’s who we choose, who sees us, and who stays. So when you’re exiled from your family or a group that once claimed to be your “Ohana,” the pain is piercing. It isn’t just loss—it’s a form of relational trauma.
As a trauma-informed coach and homeopath, I’ve walked this path with clients. But recently, I experienced it myself. I was dismissed from an organization I had invested in deeply—professionally, emotionally, spiritually. I was transparent about my integrative healing practice and spoke about it publicly, only to discover I had crossed someone else’s invisible line. Without dialogue or reasonable explanation, I was shut out. The silence was deafening.
Ironically, the internal chat thread was called ‘Ohana’—a word meant to imply belonging and family.
One moment I belonged. The next, I didn’t.
What followed was not just emotional. It was a full-body trauma response. Below, I’ll share what happens—physiologically, psychologically, and spiritually—when someone is shunned, and how healing is possible through somatic support, homeopathy, and energetic tools.
What Happens to the Body, Mind, and Spirit When You’re Cast Out
The trauma of being shunned activates primal survival fears. Our nervous system interprets rejection by the group as a threat to life itself. (Read further to learn how other cultures use restorative practices to heal relationships, including the beautiful practice of Ubuntu, something that doesn’t generally happen in modern cultures.)
Here’s what that looked like in my own body and some of the remedies and healing techniques I used. This is also what I’ve witnessed in my clients who have experienced the trauma of being shunned, perhaps you have experienced this too:
Disbelief and Shock
In the first days after I was dismissed, I couldn’t stop replaying everything in my mind. I thought: They didn’t mean to. This must be a misunderstanding. There was confusion, disorientation, and a sense that the ground had fallen out from beneath me. I walked around in disbelief, unable to pull my thoughts together. My sleep was erratic, my appetite disappeared, and my nervous system braced as if danger were just around the corner. It felt like my vagus nerve had slammed shut.
Some of the Remedies that Helped Me:
Ignatia 200c & Coffea 200c – For shock, the lump in my throat, and rapid shifts between numbness and weeping. This is a powerful homeopathic protocol for mental shock that I discuss in detail in my Homeopathic Foundations Plus course.
Rescue Remedy (Bach) – To stabilize during acute emotional shock and confusion.
Star of Bethlehem (Bach) – For deep shock and trauma, helping the body register what just happened.
Australian Bush Bottlebrush – To help process major emotional transitions and release shock from the heart field.
Isolation and Hyper-vigilance
As the shock wore off, the silence settled in. That’s when the isolation began to take root. I started questioning who I could trust, who might be watching, who might believe the worst. There was shame—not because I had done anything wrong, but because I had been treated as if I had. I withdrew at times, and at other times I wanted to explain myself repeatedly in hopes that someone might say, “You’re not crazy. We see you.” Physically, I carried tension in my jaw and gut. Breathing felt shallow. My sleep continued to suffer. It was like I was walking through a fog, trying to protect myself from a world that suddenly felt unsafe. And a constant replaying of the events, wondering what had gone wrong and why I had been treated so harshly.
Some of the Remedies that Helped Me:
Natrum Muriaticum 200c – For carrying the grief in silence and rejecting consolation, even when part of me longed for it.
Walnut (Bach) – For energetic protection and to shield myself from further emotional invasion.
Fringed Violet (Australian Bush) – For aura repair and spiritual re-centering after energetic trauma.
Yarrow (FES) – To re-establish a safe boundary between my emotional field and external projections.
Anger and Betrayal
Then the anger arrived. I gave so much. Why wasn’t that enough? I had shown up with heart and integrity—and yet, I was erased the moment I shared the full expression of who I am. The betrayal wasn’t just organizational; it was deeply personal. Rage surfaced—at them, at the situation, and even at myself for not seeing it sooner. I felt it in my body—tight shoulders, liver inflammation, migraines, even skin flare-ups. My sleep was still erratic and I shifted between crying and anger so deep that I thought I would burst. The betrayal hit me in my heart and my health.
Some of the Remedies that Helped Me:
Staphysagria 200c – For the deep sense of injustice and suppression of justified anger.
Holly (Bach) – For releasing anger rooted in feeling unloved, rejected, or betrayed.
Rage (DesBio) – For transforming vengeance, rage, and deep resentment into clarity and personal power.
Grief and Loss
Eventually, grief ushered herself in. I missed the community, even though the leadership had hurt me. I mourned the identity I had built in that space, the vision I had believed in, and the sense of safety I thought I had found. There were days I could barely get through without crying. I was still stunned and unable to make sense of the events. I felt so tired—deeply, spiritually tired. But there was also a sense that something sacred was breaking open inside me. I wasn’t just grieving what I had lost—I realized I had to reclaim what I still had: my voice, my integrity, and my commitment to healing.
Some of the Remedies that Helped Me:
Pulsatilla 200c – For the soft, raw grief and longing for emotional connection—especially when I needed support but didn’t want to seem needy.
Bleeding Heart (FES) – To release emotional attachment and let go of those who could not love me through truth.
Pink Flannel Flower (Australian Bush) – For rediscovering self-love and tenderness in the midst of heartbreak.
Elm (Bach) – For the overwhelm of trying to hold everything together while grieving.
Ignatia (again) – It came back in waves. It always does.
While I’ve shared some of the remedies and flower essences that supported me through this process, I want to gently acknowledge that for many, the experience of being shunned is so profound, so disorienting, that healing it alone simply isn’t possible.
I did not do this on my own. And I am still healing from this event.
This kind of rupture can fracture not just your sense of self, but your sense of safety in the world—and in those moments, working with a trauma-informed coach or homeopath can be essential. Because I walk in both worlds, I leaned into the very support I offer others—calling on my own homeopath (who guided me in the use of these and many other remedies to help stabilize me), my coach, and spiritual mentor (both of whom helped me stay grounded and connected). I was also blessed with the unwavering presence of my husband, whose support was and still is a lifeline.
But I know many people aren’t met with that kind of support.
For some, it’s their own family that did the shunning. And when your source of safety is the one that breaks the bond, the wound runs even deeper. We’ve seen this all too often in recent years—people cut off from family over politics, identity, religion, or simply for choosing a different path. Social media is filled with stories of young adults rejected by parents, siblings estranged over belief systems, or loved ones turned strangers in the wake of a personal evolution.
If that’s you, please know: your pain is valid. Your healing is still possible. And support—real, honest, heart-led support—does exist.
The Somatic Imprint of Exile
Exile leaves an imprint not just in the mind, but in the body:
The heart center contracts with grief and sorrow, grieving the rupture in connection.
The solar plexus collapses with confusion, shame, and identity collapse.
The throat chakra tightens from the pain of being misunderstood, silencing your voice after punishment for using it.
The root and sacral centers destabilize, leading to anxiety, insecurity, and disconnecting you from belonging and trust.
Unprocessed, this trauma can lead to physical manifestations—chronic fatigue, gut issues, autoimmune flares, emotional shutdown. That’s why healing must include somatic work, not just emotional insight.
Healing the Wound of Rejection: Tools for the Journey Back to Self
Whether you’ve been excluded by a group, family, church, or workplace, the wound of being cast out is real—and it can be healed.
In addition to the remedies and essences listed above, I leaned heavily on somatic practices to help my nervous system regulate:
Vagal toning through breath, chanting, and long exhales.
Orienting exercises to remind my body that I was not in danger.
Grief rituals like journaling, salt baths, and intuitive movement to release stored energy.
And most importantly, rebuilding my circle—finding those who see me, hold me, and reflect back my light.
A Cultural Mirror: How Many Traditions Choose Reintegration over Exile
Across many Indigenous and ancestral cultures, when someone experiences conflict or is misunderstood—whether justified or not—the community doesn’t cast them out. Instead, they use restorative practices to heal relationships and reintegrate the individual.
For example:
The African philosophy of Ubuntu emphasizes “I am because we are.” Its teachings center on communal responsibility to redeem and reshape rather than reject an individual who has "strayed".
In Native American and First Nations peacemaking, the response to harm is to bring people together in ceremony, to understand why it occurred and to restore balance.
In Hawaii, the practice of Hoʻoponopono creates a safe space for families to discuss, forgive, and make right, allowing relationships—and even health—to be restored .
These systems recognize that people are more than moments of conflict or misunderstanding. They create structured, compassionate pathways for reconnection, healing both the individual and the community.
It saddens me that these tools are not the default in our society, among our families and within our institutions. It saddens me deeply that even among seasoned healers, there can be such harshness—such a disconnect between what is taught and how we treat one another when conflict or difference arises. An institution devoted to teaching the art of healing—the sacred, nuanced journey of supporting others through trauma, illness, and transformation—should embody those same principles in its actions.
This is not the first time I've been shunned for my beliefs or my expression of self, but it was one of the most difficult.
There are so many questions I find myself asking in the aftermath.
Did I miss the signs? The truth is, I did notice small things—moments of misalignment, words that didn’t quite match the energy underneath—but I dismissed them, unsure what to make of them or how to respond without rocking the boat.
Did I trust too much? Perhaps. I wanted to believe I was part of something solid, something rooted in shared values and integrity. I invested not just my time and money, but parts of my heart, my hope, and my identity into this group. Maybe I held it too tightly, believing it to be a kind of professional home—a safe space for growth, dialogue, and healing. So when that illusion crumbled, it shook something in me. Not just disappointment in them, but a deeper reckoning with how easily we can lose ourselves in the hope of belonging.
Coaching Reflection:
Where in your own life have you sensed misalignment but stayed quiet—out of hope, fear, or longing to belong? What would it look like to honor those signals next time, and stay anchored in your own truth? These are reflections I am doing too.
Reclaiming the True Meaning of “Ohana”
In the original Lilo & Stitch, Ohana meant something sacred: no one gets left behind. But in recent remakes and adaptations, some fans have noticed subtle shifts in tone—raising the question: what happens when the promise of inclusion isn’t kept?
Maybe that’s the lesson.
Ohana isn’t just a word—it’s a commitment.
And real family, real community, doesn’t disappear when you step into the full expression of who you are, even if the others don’t like it.
It doesn’t exile you for growing. It adapts. It listens. It holds space.
So if you’ve been shunned, silenced, or pushed away, I want you to know this:
You didn’t lose your belonging.
You lost people who couldn’t hold your personal growth and expansion.
You lost people who couldn’t honor the full expression of who you are.
You are still whole. Still worthy. And you are not alone.
If you’re navigating this kind of rupture—whether personal or professional—and need support, I’d be honored to walk with you.
🌀 Book a coaching or homeopathy session at Vibrant Life 24/7
🌿 Join the waitlist for my Homeopathy Foundations Plus course—designed to empower you with the healing tools you were never taught.
Let’s redefine healing. Let’s create true Ohana.
______
Download my free resource 5 Remedies for Stress for more information on how Homeopathic Remedies can help. I am never without these remedies in my cabinet.
Disclaimer: The experiences and remedies shared here are personal and are not intended as medical advice. Please consult a qualified practitioner for individualized support. This and all blogs on VibrantLife247.com are for educational purposes only.
Comments