Rising from the Ashes: How the Phoenix became my Guide.

Hello, I’m Iris Blue.

’m the founder of the Phoenix People Community, a place where trauma survivors no longer have to feel ashamed or isolated, but instead can find strength and connection. I’m also a speaker and researcher in the field of trauma and resilience. My work focuses on the shared experience of trauma, particularly through connection and resilience. On stage, my mission is to teach people the Phoenix Method of resilience: true resilience comes from balancing strength and vulnerability. After all, did you know that the Phoenix rises not only with fiery wings, but also with healing tears?

You see, I’m proud of who I am. Proud of my empathy, proud of my optimism, and most of all, proud of my strength. I just wish these qualities hadn’t been forged out of necessity—tested and strengthened over time. I would have preferred not to have had to be so strong.

My first experience with trauma happened when I was four years old. I was involved in an accident that left me with serious burns. I remember the confusion, the fear, and the pain as if it happened yesterday. I had to stay in the hospital for a while and use a wheelchair for a time after that. But what stood out the most was how the other children reacted when I returned to school. They didn’t understand. I was treated as different. That feeling of being seen as "other" would play a significant role in shaping my life. Looking back, I now understand that this experience was one of the reasons I feel so connected to the Phoenix. Just like that mythical bird, I was shaped by fire. But this wasn’t the only trauma that affected me deeply.

There was another experience in my childhood that truly changed me. When I was four, I endured a violation that deeply affected my sense of self and the world around me. I understand that talking about such topics is difficult for many, but it's important to speak openly. This event left me with scars that took years to understand and heal. What many people don’t realize about such experiences is that they take something from you—something that is not easily regained. It takes immense strength and perseverance to recover from the impact of such events. It took me years to realize how these experiences shaped my view of the world, making me feel unsafe and unworthy.

From that point onward, I didn’t have the opportunity to have a "normal" childhood. I grew up in survival mode—always on edge, always afraid, and believing that I would never be accepted by others.

Things seemed to improve after many years of therapy and support. My family provided love and care, and both of my parents were mental health professionals. While trauma understanding wasn’t where it is today, the help I received made a significant difference. By the time I was 16, things seemed to be getting better.

But life had other plans for me.

When I was 17, my father suffered a serious accident that left him with brain injuries. From that point on, my childhood ended. I became a caregiver, watching my father lose more of himself every year. He fought for another ten years, during which I cared for him alongside my mother. These were years spent in survival mode, always fearing the worst. It wasn’t until after his death that I realized how much of my youth had been sacrificed. No college years, no parties, no friendships.

This experience reignited my trauma. Maybe it was the loss of friends during that time, or the fact that my life had become so different from my peers. Whatever the reason, I withdrew from the world to the point where I no longer felt able to leave my home.

I spent most of my days in bed, trying to cope with my emotions and the heavy burden of my responsibilities. I was later diagnosed with chronic depression, a reality I hadn’t understood at the time. It felt as if happiness was out of reach, no matter how hard I tried.

During these difficult years, I found a temporary escape in the world of modeling and beauty pageants. I know it seems like an odd contrast to the isolation I was feeling, but that world felt like a separate bubble, a space where I could convince myself that I belonged. I thrived in the chaos, and in that world, I found my voice and discovered a passion for speaking.

Slowly, I began to rebuild myself. But when my father passed away, I fell into a deep depression. Yet, there was a turning point—one realization that changed everything. I knew that the battle I had been fighting for 25 years had to end with me. I refused to let this cycle continue.

I became pregnant, and this moment sparked my journey of healing. I immersed myself in learning about trauma, reading mindset books, and conducting my own research. I spoke to others, gained insights, and slowly began healing through holistic therapies, including bodywork. It took years of effort, but gradually I began to overcome my fears and confront the triggers from my past.

Today, I stand before groups of people, speaking about my journey. I never imagined I would get here, but after all the dark times, I can now say that I am happy. With every ounce of strength, I am committed to ensuring that no one has to feel as alone as I once did.

For my younger self, who never thought she would make it this far. For my daughter, who will never have to endure the same struggles. For everyone, so that no one has to feel weak or isolated ever again.

Wings of fire and healing tears.

Ik hoop dat dit een meer geschikte versie is. Als je specifieke aanpassingen wilt of als er iets anders moet veranderen, laat het me gerust weten!