Healing Ukraine, Touching the World: A Conversation with Mariya Vynnytska of Ukrainian Psychology Center THE SOUL

In the midst of unimaginable loss, displacement, uncertainty, and war, some people are still choosing to build spaces for healing, compassion, dignity, and hope.

Mariya Vynnytska is one of those people.

As Co-Founder and Managing Director of the Ukrainian Psychology Center THE SOUL, Mariya and her team are helping Ukrainians navigate the deep emotional, psychological, and spiritual realities of collective trauma through programs rooted in post-traumatic growth, community care, evidence-based psychological support, and human connection.

At Best Ever You and through the global Percolate Peace Project, we believe peace begins within people, within families, and within communities. Mariya’s work reflects that truth powerfully. Her approach reminds us that healing is not simply about surviving hardship. It is about discovering how humanity, dignity, compassion, and even growth can still emerge in the aftermath of profound suffering.

In this deeply moving conversation, Mariya shares her personal experience of being in Kyiv when the war began, the emotional realities facing Ukrainians today, the philosophy behind THE SOUL’s work, and the transformative power of post-traumatic growth. She also offers profound insight into resilience, collective healing, compassionate witnessing, and the quiet courage it takes to continue choosing life, beauty, community, and hope during times of extraordinary pain.

This is more than an interview about trauma.

It is a conversation about humanity itself.

Can you share your personal journey — from being in Kyiv when the war began to where you are now — and how that experience shaped your understanding of trauma and resilience?

I was at home in Kyiv when the war broke out. I remember the surreal quality of those first hours — millions of people leaving, and me feeling, somewhere deep inside, that I needed to stay. And so I did, for four months. Then I left for Asia, thinking I would be back within a month. Life had other plans, and I found myself eventually settling in Singapore, where I now also serve as Program Director at Renovaré, a holistic wellness organization and one of THE SOUL's most important international partners.

That experience — of leaving everything I knew with no clear return date — reshaped everything I thought I understood about trauma. I had worked with individuals in personal crisis for years. But collective trauma is an entirely different scale. When an entire nation is shattered at once, the wounds are not just personal. They are woven into the air, the shared silences, the phone calls that don't come. You cannot sit with one person and call it enough. You need an entirely different infrastructure of healing.

What also struck me — and this I hold very closely — is that trauma caused by other human beings carries a distinct moral and spiritual weight. Natural disasters are terrifying. But when people choose to inflict mass suffering on other people, something is broken not just in the body and the nervous system, but in a person's fundamental trust in the world and in humanity. That kind of wound requires a different kind of medicine — one that addresses the soul, not just the mind.

And yet — and this is what surprised me — extreme conditions can also activate a resolve and a strength in you that you never thought you had. I have witnessed this in our participants, in our team, and honestly in myself. Trauma can strip you bare. But in that bareness, if you have even one hand reaching toward you, you discover what you are truly made of. That is the essence of what we try to create at THE SOUL — that one reaching hand, for as many people as we can.

"Trauma can strip you bare. But in that bareness, if you have even one hand reaching toward you, you discover what you are truly made of."

What inspired you and your fellow psychologists to build a program focused on post-traumatic growth, rather than simply crisis response?

We began as a crisis center, because that is what the moment demanded. The first months after February 2022 were pure emergency — people in acute shock, unable to function, unable to speak, unable to think. So we created emergency psychological support: individual sessions, group work, online and in-person across Ukraine and in European countries where our partners were based.

Gradually, as we moved through the crisis phase together with our participants, we began to ask a different question. Not just 'how do we survive this?' — but 'what can we become through this?' That shift was not linear or easy. It emerged slowly from the work itself.

We were profoundly blessed to have Dr. Katie Eastman as our clinical advisor and mentor from April 2022. She journeyed with our core team through some of the most difficult seasons of this work — shaping and refining our programs, supporting our psychologists, and helping some of our team members receive the individual support they needed too. She introduced us more deeply to the post-traumatic growth framework, and it changed our approach forever.

Post-traumatic growth does not mean the pain disappears. It means that we ask: who am I becoming through this? Not who was I before — because often that person, that life, cannot be returned to. But who is possible now? The research on post-traumatic growth identifies five core domains where genuine growth can emerge after crisis: a greater appreciation for life, new possibilities, personal strength, deeper relationships, and spiritual or existential change. These became the compass points for our Ukrainian Circle program and everything that followed.

"Your grief and pain may not become smaller. But your heart can grow larger — large enough to hold it, and still find room for life."

For readers who may be unfamiliar with the term — how would you define post-traumatic growth, and how is it meaningfully different from simply 'healing' after trauma?

This is one of the most important distinctions we make in all of our work, and I am glad to name it clearly.

When most people think of healing after trauma, they imagine a return. A return to how things were before. A restoration of the former self, the former life, the former sense of safety. And that hope is completely understandable — it is deeply human to want to go back to what was familiar and loved.

But post-traumatic growth is a fundamentally different paradigm. It does not ask: how do we get back? It asks: where do we go from here? It recognizes that some losses cannot be undone — homes that are destroyed, people who are gone, a sense of the world's safety that cannot be fully rebuilt on the same foundation. And rather than treating that as failure, it treats it as a threshold.

Psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun, who pioneered the research on this concept, describe post-traumatic growth as positive psychological change that emerges from the struggle with highly challenging life circumstances. The key word is 'through.' Not around, not over — through.

At THE SOUL, we hold this distinction with great tenderness. We do not rush people toward growth. We do not bypass grief in the name of resilience. Rather, we create the conditions in which growth becomes possible — safe spaces, community support, evidence-based tools, and the long presence of professional care — so that what is shattered can be gathered, examined, and reconstituted into something the person themselves did not know they were capable of becoming.

Healing might be described as managing the wound. Growth is discovering that the wound, over time, became the place from which your greatest gift was born.

Can you share some of the most profound transformations you have witnessed in individuals who participated in your programs?

There are hundreds of stories. Each one carries a whole world inside it. Let me share a few that remain with me.

At the beginning of the war, a journalist came to us who had lost her cognitive abilities almost entirely. She could not write. She could not speak fluently. This was a woman whose entire professional identity, her entire sense of self, was built on the power of her words. The trauma, the anxiety, the chronic stress — they had quite literally silenced her. Through our crisis center support, over time, she began to recover. And eventually she could write again. She could speak again. That restoration — of a voice, of a self — I do not have words large enough for it.

We worked with the wife of a soldier who had lost a limb and returned from the front profoundly changed. He had stopped speaking. Stopped engaging with the family. He refused to explore a prosthetic. Their relationship was quietly collapsing. We worked with his wife — gently, steadily — and through her healing, something began to shift in their dynamic. They started cooking together again. And then, he agreed to go to the hospital. That is what the ripple effect of care looks like in practice.

We have also supported families who fled Ukraine and were living in safety abroad — yet their children were still having panic attacks, still flinching at sounds, still reliving what they had seen. One mother came to us with children who had witnessed explosions. After we worked with the family, the children began to ask her: 'When can we go out?' That question — so ordinary, so full of life — was the most moving thing we heard that week.

And then there is Anna. She joined our Ukrainian Circle program in 2023 as a participant — a displaced psychologist who had fled Ukraine and was unsure of herself, uncertain of how to move forward professionally in a new country. She went through every module of the program. And in 2024, she joined us as one of our facilitators. She wrote to us: 'I found myself. I learned how to adapt. And now I am helping others do the same.' That full circle — from participant to healer — may be the most perfect expression of what post-traumatic growth truly looks like in a human life.

"The full circle — from participant to healer — may be the most perfect expression of what post-traumatic growth truly looks like in a human life."

Your own experience of displacement has been profound. How has it shaped the way you connect with and support others who are suffering?

It made me humble. Genuinely, deeply humble — in a way that years of professional training could not have accomplished alone.

When you lose the familiar scaffolding of your life — your home, your daily rhythms, your professional community, your language all around you — you come face to face with what is truly yours. And what you discover is that your inner world — the quality of your attention, your capacity for compassion, the stability of your own soul — is the only home that travels with you everywhere.

That experience gave me a visceral understanding of what our participants are carrying. The exhaustion of prolonged uncertainty. The grief of multiple simultaneous losses. The particular loneliness of being in a safe place while the people and places you love are not. I have sat with all of those feelings, and they have made me a different kind of professional — more present, less theoretical, more willing to simply be with someone in their pain rather than rushing to fix it.

It also taught me something about asking for help — which is surprisingly difficult for people who are trained to give it. I have received extraordinary kindness and support from people around the world in these years, and it has permanently changed me. It reminded me that being able to help someone is not a duty — it is a privilege. And it taught me that when we reach for each other, something is activated in both the giver and the receiver that cannot be created any other way.

I am deeply grateful to everyone who has supported us and Ukraine. Your solidarity has not just been meaningful. It has been oxygen.

In the midst of war, loss, and ongoing uncertainty — where do you see moments of hope and peace emerging?

In the small things. Always in the small things.

When a participant says: 'I believe in myself a little more today.' When a woman who had stopped dreaming tells me she has made a small plan for next month. When our community members in the Telegram channel share a photo of their morning coffee, or a flower in their window — these are not trivial moments. They are acts of quiet resistance against despair.

I find hope in nature. In prayer and meditation, which have become essential practices for me in these years — ways of returning to a stillness that the world cannot take away. I find hope in reading, in the ancient texts that remind me that there have been wars before, and losses before, and that history does curve — slowly, painfully — toward something more humane.

I find hope in the people who keep creating. Who refuse to stop building. The entrepreneurs in Kyiv. The artists who keep painting. The women who put on beautiful dresses and go get their nails done — and I say this with full seriousness and reverence. These are people who are declaring: life is still here. Life is still worth adorning. And I find that extraordinarily brave.

And I find hope in people like those reading this interview right now — in people who choose to look at Ukraine, not away from it. In those who ask questions, who want to understand, who carry something of our reality in their hearts even from far away. That witnessing matters more than you may know.

What are the greatest psychological challenges facing Ukrainians today — both those who remain inside the country and those who have been displaced abroad?

The challenges are different in their texture, but they share a common root — and that root is loss. Loss of home, of safety, of a sense of future, of self.

For Ukrainians who are still inside the country, the reality is one of chronic, grinding danger. Children study in basements. Families sleep near shelter. The economic devastation is severe. The anxiety of not knowing when the next alarm will come, or whether the people you love on the front line are alive — this kind of sustained fear produces an exhaustion that goes far beyond tiredness. It begins to affect cognition, relationships, the ability to make decisions, the capacity to feel joy.

For those who have fled abroad, there are different but equally real wounds. The loss of social identity — of being a professional, a neighbor, a person with a role — and the gain of a label: refugee. The profound loneliness of navigating a new language, a new culture, a new bureaucracy, while holding grief for what was left behind. Many of our participants describe a kind of split existence — one foot in the country where they live, and one foot always in Ukraine. And that split is exhausting.

What is common to both groups is this: an almost universal experience of feeling that the future has become illegible. You cannot plan. You cannot imagine. And for human beings — who are, by nature, future-oriented creatures — that loss of the future is perhaps the most disorienting of all.

We also see tremendous suppressed anger, identity fracturing, relational conflict, and a pervasive sense of depletion that makes even the simplest decisions feel monumental. These are not weaknesses. They are the entirely predictable human responses to entirely inhumane circumstances. Our work is to hold this truth with deep respect — and to build, patiently, the conditions for something different.

Your work reflects a profound integration of science and humanity. What core principles guide THE SOUL's approach to healing and growth?

We work from six interconnected pillars that inform every program, every session, and every conversation we have.

The first is Ukrainian Architectonics — the belief that culture, art, language, and ancestral identity are not peripheral to healing but central to it. When people reconnect with the beauty and depth of Ukrainian history, music, and creative expression, something is restored in them that violence attempted to erase. Culture is medicine.

The second is Post-Traumatic Growth — which we have spoken about at length, and which means moving people from surviving to becoming. Not bypassing pain, but walking through it with skilled, compassionate company.

The third is Best Practices and Evidence-Based Tools — because our participants deserve the most rigorous and effective psychological approaches available. We do not work from intuition alone. We ground our work in research, in established trauma-informed frameworks, and in continuous professional development.

The fourth is the Prevention of Transgenerational Trauma — because the children of today are the adults of tomorrow, and the trauma that is not processed in this generation will be inherited by the next. Our work is not only for those who are suffering now. It is for those who have not yet been born.

The fifth is the Ripple Effect of Care — the understanding that when one person heals, they become a source of healing for those around them. A mother who finds stability becomes a more stable presence for her children. A woman who rebuilds her confidence becomes a mentor for her community. Healing is never only personal.

And the sixth is Fostering Unity and Social Harmony — both within Ukraine, which is a country holding many internal tensions, and across borders, building relationships of genuine solidarity and partnership with people and organizations around the world who believe that the future can be different from the past.

You have been featured in The Peace Guidebook. How do you see the work of THE SOUL contributing to a broader global movement toward peace and compassionate change?

Peace does not begin in treaties or political negotiations. It begins inside people. Inside families. Inside communities. This is not naive — I think it is the most pragmatic thing anyone can say about the nature of lasting change.

What we are building at THE SOUL is a living demonstration of that belief. Every woman who heals from trauma and does not pass it on to her children is a small act of peace in the world. Every group of strangers who become a community of care, who choose to trust and support each other across difference — that is peace being practiced, not just theorized.

We believe that Ukraine is developing, through necessity, some of the world's most field-tested approaches to collective healing, crisis psychology, and community resilience. What we are learning in the most difficult conditions imaginable may have value not only for Ukraine but for any society that faces fracture — which is to say, for many societies on earth, in one way or another.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXKgUaTs1kc

I would love for the work of THE SOUL to be part of a global conversation about what peace actually requires — not just the cessation of violence, but the active cultivation of the inner conditions that make violence less necessary or even possible. That is the long work. And it is the most important work.

My personal invitation to anyone reading this: begin with your own inner territory. Notice your thoughts, your words, the after-taste of your actions. Are they building something, or eroding it? Each one of us has more power to contribute to peace — or to its opposite — than we generally choose to acknowledge. Use that power with intention.

What is the message you most want the world to hear right now about the strength, courage, and humanity of the Ukrainian people?

In many African traditions, there is a word: Ubuntu. It means 'I am because you are.' I think of it often when I think of Ukraine in these years.

So much of the strength that has emerged in Ukraine has been activated by the people who chose to stand with us. The individuals who donated. The organizations that partnered with us. The strangers who wrote to say: we see you. We have not forgotten you. That solidarity is not merely supportive — it is generative. It becomes part of us. We are, in some real sense, because of you.

And at the same time, I want to say something that is perhaps harder to hear: Ukraine is not only a place of suffering. We are a place of extraordinary beauty, creativity, resilience, and culture. We are poets and scientists and artists and engineers. We are mothers who are raising children during bombings and also teaching them to paint. We are psychologists who are healing others while also tending to our own wounds.

The Ukrainian spirit is not broken. It is being forged. And I believe that what emerges from this fire will have gifts to offer the world that we cannot yet fully see. We invite you to stay close enough to witness it — and to be part of building it.

We hope to welcome many friends to a peaceful Ukraine one day. And in the meantime — we are grateful, beyond words, for everyone who sees us, walks with us, and believes that peace is possible.

Finally — if someone reading this is currently in the depths of trauma or loss, what is one small step they can take today toward growth and peace?

It is always difficult to give universal advice to someone in the depths of pain. To do so risks insulting the weight of what they carry. So rather than a prescription, I offer an invitation — the smallest possible step.

Return to the rhythm of your own breath. Simply notice that you are breathing. In the deepest traditions of psychology and contemplative practice, to breathe consciously is to say 'yes' to life — even when that life feels heavy beyond bearing. As you inhale, you might whisper to yourself: 'I am here. My heart is still beating. For this one moment, I am safe.'

Trauma creates a kind of inner splitting — a part of us stays frozen in the moment of pain, while the rest of us tries to keep moving. If you are suffering today, I invite you to practice what we call compassionate witnessing. Imagine looking at the part of yourself that is hurt, with the same eyes you would turn toward someone you love more than your own life. You would not demand that they 'be strong.' You would simply sit beside them, and be present.

You might try speaking these words — gently, as if placing a hand on your own shoulder:

"I see you. I see how much this hurts — and I am not going to turn away."

"I don't have all the answers. But I am going to stay with you."

"You do not have to be better or stronger today. You just have to be."

"To everything that was hard: I bow to you. To everything still to come: I am getting ready."

Growth does not always look like a mountain peak. Sometimes it looks like a single green shoot pushing through frozen ground. Peace does not always mean the absence of pain. It means the presence of companionship — with yourself, and with others who refuse to leave.

Today, your only task is to be on your own side. We are taking this one breath at a time. And in that tiny, compassionate 'yes,' the healing has already begun.

"Growth does not always look like a mountain peak. Sometimes it looks like a single green shoot pushing through frozen ground."

What makes this conversation with Mariya Vynnytska so extraordinary is not only the depth of wisdom, compassion, and emotional insight she shares, but the reminder that even in the darkest moments of human experience, people still reach toward each other with courage, care, dignity, and hope.

Throughout this interview, Mariya speaks honestly about trauma, displacement, grief, uncertainty, and the psychological realities facing Ukrainians both inside and outside the country. Yet woven through every answer is another truth: healing remains possible when people are seen, supported, witnessed, and loved through their pain.

At Best Ever You, we believe peace is not passive. Peace is practiced in moments of compassion, presence, listening, courage, community, and human connection. The work being done through Ukrainian Psychology Center THE SOUL is a powerful example of what compassionate action looks like in real life.

One of the most beautiful reminders from this conversation is that growth does not always arrive dramatically. Sometimes, as Mariya says, it looks like “a single green shoot pushing through frozen ground.”

Pause.

Breathe.

Choose.

Choose compassion.

Choose presence.

Choose to remain open-hearted in a world that often feels fractured.

Because peace begins inside people.

And when people heal, communities heal too.

To learn more about Mariya Vynnytska and the work of Ukrainian Psychology Center THE SOUL, visit:Ukrainian Psychology Center THE SOUL

A very special Thank You to Dr. Katie Eastman.