An Inspired Chat with Zebulon Thomas

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Zebulon Thomas. Check out our conversation below.

Zebulon, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: What are you chasing, and what would happen if you stopped?
For most of my life, I was chasing safety. Not success, not accolades — just a sense of inner calm my nervous system never truly knew. What I thought was ambition was really a response to trauma, shaped by childhood survival.

Then I hit a breaking point and stopped. That pause led me into EMDR therapy — a turning point that cracked me open in the most necessary way. Through the guidance of two incredible therapists, Shirley and Fay, I began to face what I had buried for decades. And in doing so, I found what I’d truly been chasing: healing.

There were moments where the pain felt unbearable, where memories came flooding back and the silence after sessions felt too heavy. But I kept showing up, and I’m grateful I did. Every session helped me reclaim pieces of myself trauma tried to erase.

Now, I’m chasing wholeness — reconnecting with the version of me that never got to exist, and helping others believe they can do the same.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Zebulon Thomas. My background is in filmmaking and storytelling, but my life took a powerful turn when I stepped into trauma therapy. After years of living in survival mode, I began to confront layers of childhood trauma through counseling and EMDR.

That work transformed my purpose. Today, I speak publicly to raise awareness about trauma, mental health, and the power of therapy — especially EMDR. I use storytelling, my book Out of Fight or Flight, and my voice to let others know they’re not alone, and to honor the professionals who guide this work.

Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
I was a wildly imaginative, sensitive boy — full of light, movement, and questions. I saw the world through story. Every corner of life felt like something to explore, to wonder about, to understand. I was curious about everything, deeply observant, and I felt things in a way that didn’t quite match the world I was born into.

But that boy didn’t last long. The world — through trauma, violence, and fear — began shaping me into someone else. I was taught, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, to be quiet, to be strong, to hide what I felt. I became the protector, the fixer, the performer. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to survive.

For decades, I lived as that survival version of myself — chasing success, control, and outward achievement — because it felt safer than slowing down to feel. My career took me to incredible places, yet inside, I carried the weight of the little boy’s silence.

It wasn’t until EMDR therapy that I truly began to meet him again. To sit with his pain, his imagination, his need for safety — and finally give him what he never had. Healing, I’ve learned, isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about returning to who you were before the world told you who you had to be.

That little boy deserved peace. Today, through my public speaking events and my book Out of Fight or Flight: A Journey Through EMDR, Trauma, and the Will to Heal, I’m building a life where he finally gets to feel it — and showing others that they can, too.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Yes. More than once.

There were moments in EMDR therapy where the pain felt unbearable — when the memories came flooding back and I wasn’t sure I could survive what I was finally allowing myself to feel. There were days I sat in the car outside my therapist’s office and debated whether to go in. I didn’t want to relive it. I didn’t want to break open again.

But what I’ve learned is that healing isn’t clean. It’s not a straight line. It’s messy and painful and, at times, terrifying. And yet… it’s worth every step.

I almost gave up when the numbness felt safer than the truth. When dissociation felt like the only way to keep going. But in those moments, I would remember the reason I started this journey in the first place — to find the version of me that never got to exist.

And honestly, it wasn’t just for me. It was for others, too — for anyone out there who feels like they’re too broken to heal. I kept going so I could one day turn back and say, “You’re not alone. There’s a way through this.”

Almost giving up showed me how much I actually wanted to live — not just survive. And that’s what keeps me moving forward.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m committed to breaking the silence around trauma — even if it breaks me a little each time I speak.

This isn’t just a mission. It’s my survival woven into purpose. Every time I tell my story — on stage, in rooms full of strangers, or through a camera lens — I unravel just a little more. I fall apart so others can feel less alone in theirs. I speak through shaking hands, through tears that still surprise me, through pain that never fully lets go… because I know someone is hearing their story in mine.

Too many are carrying what they were never meant to hold — and doing it silently. I know that silence. I lived in it for decades. So I’ve made it my life’s work to speak the words I once needed to hear.

But this isn’t just about me. This is about honoring the counselors and therapists who sit with others in the depths, who hold space where no one else would. Their work is sacred. It saved me. And I carry that forward with reverence.

And maybe, just maybe, someone reading this will realize that their story isn’t over — that the pain they’ve carried could become someone else’s lifeline. Maybe they’ll find the courage to become the healer they never had. A therapist. A counselor. A safe space. A voice in the dark.

This is not a short-term project. This is a lifelong promise — to speak, to break, to rise, and to keep going… no matter how long it takes.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What do you understand deeply that most people don’t?
I don’t think I understand more than others — but I’ve come to feel something deeply that many people forget along the way:

You matter.
Not because of what you’ve survived.
Not because of what you do.
But simply because you’re here.

I know that sounds simple… but when you’ve lived through trauma, when you’ve questioned your worth, your sanity, your place in the world — those two words can feel impossible to believe.

But I believe them now. And I believe them for you, too.

Your life is worth so much more than the pain you’ve carried. You’re not too much. You’re not too far gone. You’re not broken beyond repair. Healing is possible — if you give it time, if you let yourself be helped, if you stay open to the process.

For me, that help came in the form of countless hours spent in therapy rooms — across from my counselor and my EMDR therapist. Those sessions have been the greatest investment of my life. Every time I walked into those rooms, I discovered pieces of myself I thought were lost forever: my innocence, my joy, my capacity to love, my ability to let go and reprocess. Slowly, I’ve found freedom inside myself I never believed possible.

To the counselors and therapists who dedicate their lives to this work — including the two who walked with me — thank you. You are the lifelines. The steady hands. The safe eyes. You don’t just witness healing; you hold space for it to unfold in the quietest, most sacred moments. The gift of your presence, your training, and your own humanity saves lives — mine included.

What I’ve come to understand is this: healing isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about uncovering the parts of you trauma tried to bury and gently bringing them back home. It’s about realizing that softness is not weakness — it’s the beginning of freedom.

I don’t have all the answers. But I know what it means to sit in the dark and finally feel the light come through.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding others: you matter. More than you know.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.outoffightorflight.com
• Instagram: @ztfilms
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/zebulonthomas/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@outoffightorflight
• Other: You can find the book and learn more about my journey at www.outoffightorflight.com or look up the book on amazon “Out of Fight or Flight” By Zebulon Thomas