How Trauma Can Change the Way You See Your Body
Steps to Reconnect & Find Peace
March 3, 2025
Written by: Taylor Molstad (she/her), Registered Provisional Psychologist, M. Ed.
You’ve probably heard about how trauma impacts our mental health, emotions, and even our physical health, but what if I told you it can also shape how we feel about our bodies? Trauma and body image are more connected than we think.
If you’ve experienced trauma, it can lead to some pretty complicated feelings about your body, and that disconnection can stick around long after the event itself. In this blog, I will explore some of the ways trauma can alter how we see and feel about our bodies and offer some tips on how to support yourself if you’re struggling in this area.
Common Ways Trauma Alters Our Body Perception
Disassociation:
If you’ve experienced something traumatic, from sexual violence to abuse or grief, you may feel disconnected from yourself. Sometimes, this feeling of separation happens at the moment, or it can show up after. For some, this sense of disconnection lingers far longer than anyone might expect.
One of the most common ways I see this in my work, especially with survivors of sexual violence, is when someone feels like their body is no longer their own during relaxation or pleasure during sex. It can feel like your mind and body are speaking different languages, and it can be really difficult to feel present, or even safe, in your body during intimate moments with someone you love.
For some folks, this disconnection can run even deeper than the context of the trauma itself. You might look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back at you or feel like you’re watching your life from the outside instead of living it from within. This detachment can make it hard to trust your body or take care of it in the way you need to.
When you’re disconnected from your body, it’s almost impossible to tune into what feels good or what it truly needs. For example, some individuals face challenges with disordered eating or have spent years dieting. Learning to ignore your body’s natural hunger and fullness cues is, in many ways, a form of dissociation.
Body Shame & Negative Self-Perception:
Trauma doesn’t just affect how we feel emotionally. It can impact us physically, down to the cells of our bodies. Research has shown trauma can lead to chronic pain, changes in our cardiovascular system, and hormonal imbalances, which can affect the immune system. All of this can impact how our bodies feel, and sometimes, even how they look.
But beyond the physical changes, trauma can shift how we see our bodies. If you’ve experienced something painful, whether it’s abuse, grief, or having your boundaries violated, you might start to feel like your body is “wrong,” “damaged,” or that it doesn’t even belong to you. Many people who’ve experienced trauma start avoiding mirrors, feeling uncomfortable in their own skin, or struggle with basic self-care. It’s not that they don’t care about themselves, it’s just that their relationship with their body has become complicated or even hostile.
And then there’s the pressure from society. While I want to make it clear that this is not a blog about weight loss or changing your body (you will never ever catch me promoting diet culture), we can’t ignore the fact that we live in a world that tells us weight gain or body changes mean we’ve “failed.” If trauma has affected your appetite, energy, or the way your body stores weight, it’s easy to spiral into shame. Instead of seeing these changes as your body’s way of coping and surviving, society often teaches us to view them as something we need to “fix.”
Hypervigilance:
After trauma, especially physical trauma like abuse or assault, your body can become hyper-aware of every little sensation. You might feel on edge or uncomfortable with even the smallest of touches. Research shows that PTSD, particularly when it’s long-term, can cause people to interpret their bodily sensations as threatening or catastrophic. So trauma doesn’t just affect our thoughts and emotions, it changes the way we physically experience the world.
For example, PTSD can heighten sensitivity to pain and discomfort and increase anxiety about things like feeling hungry, tired, or even relaxed. Your brain and body are on a constant lookout for danger, even in safe situations. It can make you feel anxious about sensations that used to feel normal, like your stomach growling or feeling tired. If you’ve been through something physically traumatic, like an assault or car accident, it can literally change how your brain perceives your body, leading to a heightened sense of alertness and a fear of certain physical sensations.
The Push-Pull Between Numbing and Control:
When trauma leaves us feeling disconnected from our bodies, we often try to cope in one of two ways: we numb our sensations, or we try to control them completely. For some people, numbing is a way to cope with overwhelming emotions or physical pain. You might find yourself ignoring hunger, avoiding sleep, or blocking out pain altogether. When your body has been in a place of discomfort or trauma, it can feel like the safest thing to do is just disconnect.
But on the other hand, some of us cope by trying to control our bodies in extreme ways. This could mean rigid exercise routines, restrictive eating, or even self-harm in an attempt to feel like we have control over something. The idea is that if we can “fix” our bodies or make them conform to certain standards, we might feel safer or more predictable. The problem is, that both numbing and controlling are ways of disconnecting from what your body really needs. Neither approach allows you to heal or nurture a healthy, compassionate relationship with yourself. These ways of coping probably helped you feel safe at some point, and that’s valid. No shade here if you’ve used these strategies before, sometimes, they’re the only tools we have. But now, it’s about finding a way forward that feels more aligned with your healing.
Okayyyy… Taylor, thank you for all of that information, but what can we do about it? I got you.
1. Acknowledge and honour your experience.
I’ve been there too, and I want to be honest with you here in the most gentle way I can: your body doesn’t know that “other people have been through worse.” It just knows your story and your experiences.
One of the most powerful steps you can take is simply acknowledging the impact those experiences have had on your life, especially how they’ve shaped your relationship with your body. It might be uncomfortable, but it’s also incredibly validating to give yourself the space to say, “Oof, okay, that did really hurt. And it makes sense that it affected me this way.”
2. Seek support—formal and informal.
Therapy can be a game-changer. I say this not only as a therapist, but also as someone who has been in therapy myself and found it really helpful. Having someone who truly gets it can be so comforting. But I’ll also say this: you don’t always need therapy to heal.
Community is powerful too. Whether it’s a group of friends who understand, or connecting with people who share your experiences, these informal support systems can make a huge difference. Finding people who just get it (even if it’s not in a “formal” sense) can remind you that you’re not alone.
3. Self-compassion.
Okay, I know, I talk about self-compassion all the time, but hear me out, the science really backs this up. Being kind to yourself isn’t just a nice idea. It’s crucial for healing. The more you can soften your inner dialogue and show yourself the same kindness you’d show a friend, the more you allow yourself to heal and grow.
Some practical tips:
Gentle bodywork and movement.
Think of yourself as a scientist, just exploring and experimenting with how your body feels and what it might need. Start small: wiggle your toes, stretch gently, or take a few mindful breaths. Start where you are and pay attention to how your body responds. Maybe it’s trying out a yoga class or simply observing others moving in their bodies; this can help you reconnect with yours in a gentle way. You might also experiment with walking, dancing, or any movement that feels good in the moment.
Movement can be a really healing tool to help you ground yourself and get back in touch with your physical self. But I do want to acknowledge that spaces like yoga or bodywork can sometimes feel exclusive or intimidating. Especially when they’re dominated by certain body types or people who are thin, white, non-disabled, etc. I completely understand this frustration because it can feel like those spaces aren’t designed for you. If you feel this way, I’ve included some resources below that focus on making movement more accessible and inclusive.
The key here is to find pleasure in simply existing in your body. Movement should never feel like punishment or something you "have to" do to fix yourself. If something doesn’t feel good physically or mentally, you don’t have to push yourself through it. Honour where you’re at, and go slow.
Play with pleasure.
I’m not talking about “performing” pleasure, but rather discovering it. We’re taking the time to explore the sensations that feel good in your body, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant they may be. This can be a really gentle way to rebuild your relationship with your body, especially if trauma has caused disconnection.
What are the things that feel good just for you? It can be a cozy sweater on your skin or the warmth of sunlight on your face. It can also be a bit more intentional. Maybe you enjoy the sensation of running your fingers through your hair or feeling the ground beneath your bare feet. It’s about reconnecting to those sensory experiences that remind you that you exist in a body that deserves to feel good.
Another fun way to reconnect with pleasure is to play with the way you touch your body. Take your non-dominant hand and explore your arm or leg, noticing what feels good as your hand moves over your skin. Maybe it’s a lighter touch, or perhaps a firmer one. What happens when you press gently into your palms or rub your wrists? Does your body crave more pressure, or does it like a gentler, softer touch? Spend time figuring out what you enjoy.
Play around with different forms of touch—it could be self-massage, a soothing face rub, or just running your hands through your hair. Pay attention to how your body reacts, and don’t judge it if something feels weird or uncomfortable. Remember: You’re just exploring, no pressure to have it “perfect.”
Final Thoughts
Do you want the good news or the bad news first?
The bad news is healing from trauma and rebuilding your relationship with your body isn’t something that happens overnight. It’s messy, imperfect, and looks different for everyone.
But the good news is, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. No one’s asking you to “fix” anything or make it all better right now. The goal is simple: start reconnecting, honour what your body has been through, and be curious about what might feel good on your terms.
If trauma has altered how you feel about your body, that’s valid. If it feels like you’re still figuring out how to feel safe, how to feel good, or how to trust your body again, that’s okay too. You’re allowed to be wherever you are in the process. But don’t forget that your body, just as it is, is worthy of tenderness, care, and attention. The fact that you’re even reading this means you’re already showing up for yourself. And that, my friend, is something to be proud of.
So, take your time. Lean into the little moments of softness. Trust that it’s all happening exactly as it needs to, no pressure, just you, here, now.
Further Exploration:
“Healing Trauma: A Pioneering Program for Restoring the Wisdom of Your Body” by Peter Levine, Ph.D
“Reclaiming Body Trust: A Path to Healing & Liberation” by Hilary Kinavey & Dana Sturtevant
“More Than A Body: Your Body Is An Instrument, Not An Ornament” by Lexie Kite & Lindsay Kite
Online Creators/Practitioners:
The Underbelly Yoga (fat, black, queer online yoga studio)
Lucybyyoga (anti-diet & body liberation online yoga)
Sources:
Farr, O. M., Sloan, D. M., Keane, T. M., & Mantzoros, C. S. (2014). Stress-and PTSD-associated obesity and metabolic dysfunction: a growing problem requiring further research and novel treatments. Metabolism-Clinical and Experimental, 63(12), 1463-1468.
McFarlane, A. C. (2010). The long-term costs of traumatic stress: intertwined physical and psychological consequences. World Psychiatry, 9(1), 3.
Tsur, N., Defrin, R., Lahav, Y., & Solomon, Z. (2018). The traumatized body: Long-term PTSD and its implications for the orientation towards bodily signals. Psychiatry Research, 261, 281-289.