MSF Mexico: Trauma Speaks Through the Body

Tamara's* Story

“I am a strong woman, a fighter; Nobody has been able to take my dignity away,” says Tamara, a Honduran woman who refuses to let the violence she has experienced define her. It was a long journey to arrive at this belief — a feeling she used to think was impossible. ​

Tamara left Honduras to save her life. Local gangs tried to recruit her, when she refused, the threats escalated into relentless persecution, forcing her to abandon everything and flee the country. She traveled toward Mexico believing she would find protection there, not knowing the violence she might face along the migration route while trying to reach safety.

In Mexico, Tamara was brutally attacked — beaten across her entire body and sexually assaulted. Her survival instincts took over and she lay still for 15 minutes pretending to be dead to stop the attack. ​

“You go to another country looking for protection expecting them to protect you, not abuse you,” she says. After that day, isolation became her only defense. She stayed off the main routes and walked through the hills to dodge authorities and strangers, terrified of any human contact. “I couldn’t talk to anyone. I wouldn’t let a soul near me,” she remembers. “When I walked, I felt like a zombie”. Her moved onwards, but her mind was still trapped in the attack, in survival mode. ​

Every day, Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) teams encounter stories like Tamara’s every day, when we meet people traveling across caravans, through our mobile clinics, and in migrant shelters. What we have learned is escaping the violence is just the first step on a grueling road to recovery. ​

The Body Remembers

Trauma is often misunderstood as just a painful memory. In clinical terms, it is far more complex. ​

Gladys Vásquez, MSF mental health manager, explains that during an extreme crisis, the body triggers hardwired survival mechanisms to shut out unbearable terror and pain. During an attack, people often disassociate from what is happening to them — an involuntary reaction that allows the body to endure the unendurable. ​

The real issue is that once the threat disappears, the body doesn't automatically realize it’s safe. “The body can no longer tell when the danger is gone,” Vásquez says. The nervous system stays locked in high alert, mistaking harmless cues as an attack. A sudden noise, an unfamiliar voice, a certain smell, or an everyday interaction can spark debilitating panic. ​

“The body keeps the memory,” says Dora Morales, an MSF clinical psychologist. “Someone can tell you about something that happened ten years ago, and physically they relive it right in front of you as if it were happening all over again”. ​

This shows up as chronic insomnia, night terrors, muscle tension, hypervigilance, and physical exhaustion. These symptoms can drag on for years after the actual violence stops, dismantling a person’s day to day functioning. Catching these signs early and providing specialized treatment is critical to stopping the suffering. ​

For many survivors, the deepest damage is the loss of trust. “What violence destroys first is your belief in other human beings,” Vásquez explains. “When harm is inflicted deliberately by someone else, feeling safe around other people again is an uphill battle”. ​

Tamara remembers that feeling well. Isolation and panic dictated every second of her day. Like many survivors, she carried guilt that was not her’s, feeling ashamed of her emotional breakdowns. She was terrified that she was losing her mind. ​

Helping patients understand that these reactions are a normal physiological response to an extreme experience is one of the most vital steps in therapy. ​

Space to Rebuild

Specialized care can help people move beyond their Trauma. Since 2016, MSF has worked with more than 1,200 people like Tamara at our Comprehensive Care Center (CAI in Spanish) in Mexico City. The center was built to fill a glaring gap in specialized care for survivors of torture, extreme abuse, and complex trauma. Bringing together medical doctors, psychologists, social workers, and occupational therapists to provide holistic care, the team helps people heal their bodies and slowly piece their lives back together. ​

Since the CAI opened 10 years ago, MSF has provided more than 23,200 specialized consultations. And over that time, the need for this care has only increased: between January and July 2026 alone, 71 new survivors of torture and ill-treatment joined the clinic. The clinic provided more than 2,000 sessions during the same period, reflecting the long-term nature of survivors’ recovery processes. Between 2017 and 2026, MSF teams have treated 156 patients who were tortured, 137 who were kidnapped, and 241 who experienced sexual violence. ​

Unlike many of MSF’s programs that provide emergency care and support, the CAI focuses on long-term rehabilitation. Each person receives care tailored to their medical, psychological, and social needs over months of follow-up. The goal is not just to put a band aid on their symptoms, but to give people back their autonomy and help them rebuild a future after surviving unimaginable cruelty. ​

The clinic's approach rests on a core principle: trauma doesn't just damage the mind; fractures relationships, and halts life in its tracks.

Often people believe that healing from trauma begins with talking. But clinical research has shown that forcing someone to relive a traumatic event while their nervous system is still in fight-or-flight mode can do more harm than good.

Before unpacking painful memories, a person first needs to feel fundamentally safe. The CAI uses nervous system regulation techniques so the body can finally register that the attack is over. “Once a patient can anchor themselves in what they see, hear, and feel right now, they can finally realize they are safe today,” Morales explains. ​

Beyond Survival

At the CAI, progress is not just measured by fewer nightmares or less anxiety. It shows up when a person begins to imagine the future. “We see real recovery when functionality returns,” Morales says. “When someone can make plans again, hold down a job, and look ahead”. ​

Trauma does not have to define who someone is or dictate where they go. We can’t always change what happened, but we can change what it means to us. Moving from “terrible things happened to me, and I can’t go on” to “terrible things happened to me, but I deserve a life with dignity and a future” is the real turning point. What happened in the past is not a life sentence; it’s an ordeal that can be overcome, and it never diminishes someone's worth. ​

Tamara, who spent months terrified of being near another human being, speaks today with quiet strength. She no longer views herself through the lens of what she survived, but through the courage she found to rebuild her life. Looking back on everything she endured, she says: “Nobody has been able to take my dignity away”. ​

Mexico is not only a migration route; it is also a place where violence continues

Mexico is simultaneously a transit country, a destination, and, for many, a place of relocation.

People on the move often flee serious violence, persecution, disappearance, or systematic rights violations in their countries of origin.

Along the route and after arrival, many continue to face kidnapping, sexual violence, extortion, exploitation, discrimination, and barriers to healthcare and protection.

For survivors, crossing a border does not automatically mean reaching safety.

Access to mental health care for survivors of extreme violence should not be a luxury; it is an essential part of healthcare.

Comprehensive care for survivors must include mental health, medical support, social accompaniment, and safe referral pathways.

Public policies should protect people on the move and ensure access to specialized services without barriers.

Investing in care for survivors is not only a humanitarian obligation; it is essential to restoring dignity and strengthening communities.

*Name changed to protect patient confidentiality.