LIVING BETTER
Recently, in the small circle of the support group I help facilitate, the conversation drifted, as it often does, from its original topic.
When this happens, we tend to follow the natural flow of things.
The discussion takes on a life of its own, and my job as a facilitator isn’t to steer it, but to gently guide it wherever it wants to go.
This time, the group landed on somatic — physical — responses to trauma; how it often shows up in the body before our minds have time to fully process it.
In 2025, we understand that trauma lives in the body. There’s even a national bestseller about it.
“The Body Keeps the Score,” by Bessel van der Kolk — You can find it here.
And while we’ve developed many ways to address it, one of the most common is yoga.
Somatic Healing and the Limits of Yoga
While yoga has undeniable benefits, such as flexibility, core strength, mobility, and yes — trauma support, it’s not a universal choice for healing.
For some, the slow pace, the deafening silence, and the vulnerability of certain poses can feel overwhelming or even triggering.
One group member described it as “feeling like your body can’t relax because there’s so much pressure.”
To an outsider, it might sound confusing; how can silence be overstimulating? But in trauma recovery, nothing is off the table.
Sitting cross-legged in a room full of strangers, listening to guided meditations and practicing breathwork can increase anxiety for some – especially if they don’t feel fully connected to their bodies in the first place.
Dissociation and the Search for Empowering Movement
It’s not just trauma itself, but dissociation – the confusing byproduct of trauma, which is one of the body’s defense mechanisms.
According to experts, dissociation is one way our minds cope with too much stress and is experienced as a disconnection from our normal thoughts, feelings, memories, and sense of identity.
This can complicate a person’s relationship with the world around them.
For many trauma survivors, the movement best for them is one that builds connection. They’re searching for an activity that allows them to feel present and safe.
Some try running, but that can be a double-edged sword.
On one hand, running offers space for clarity and a feeling of control. It’s great for your cardiovascular health and can boost your mood in the short-term. On the other hand, for those at risk of dissociation, it can be a slippery slope of disconnection.
One person in my group shared that, earlier in their recovery journey, they would run “so far out of their body” that wouldn’t realize their feet were bleeding until they stopped.
That’s when someone suggested weightlifting. We all shared a laugh and sigh of relief – not because it was a funny idea, but because as survivors, we understood.
The Case for Weightlifting
Weightlifting can seem intimidating, especially for women historically have been excluded from gym culture.
But today, it’s more approachable than ever. And for survivors, weightlifting can be beneficial because it demands presence.
As the group member pointed out, when you’re holding 100 pounds above your head, you can’t really afford to drift out of your body. You have to really be there, and you have to hear what your body is telling you.
It also helps to build trust.
In weightlifting, it’s recommended to have a spotter – someone there to help keep you on track, especially if you’re carrying too much weight, or are at risk of injury. They often become a source of encouragement, building you up when your back’s against the wall.
This relationship requires communication and vulnerability, but the person with the weights still feels in control.
Entering a gym, especially as a trauma survivor, can feel nerve-wracking. But it can also be empowering. It’s a space where you can really test the limits of your own strength – physically, socially, and emotionally.
At the end of the day, healing is personal, and it doesn’t follow a script.
We can’t control how our bodies respond to trauma, but we can choose movements that work best for us – ones that help us reclaim our power.
For some, that might be yoga. For others, it might be pumping iron.
Either way, we shouldn’t try to force ourselves to heal in any certain way. We should stay true to our own paths, celebrate even the smallest victories, and find movement that meets us where we are, and not where we feel like we should be.
That’s what true strength looks like.
