Trauma, the Nervous System & Self-Compassion: A Gentle Guide for the Healing Journey

21 July

There’s a quote I come back to often: “The body keeps the score, but it also keeps the wisdom.” And it’s true, while trauma can live in our bones and nervous systems, so too can our capacity for healing. But if you’ve ever felt like your body was working against you - heart racing for no reason, shutting down mid-conversation, reacting in ways that seem “disproportionate”, you’re not alone.

This isn’t about being broken. It’s about being wired for survival.

Whether you’re a survivor slowly making your way back to yourself, or a practitioner holding space for others, understanding the relationship between trauma, the nervous system, and self-compassion is foundational. And dare I say… it’s often where the real magic begins.

Trauma Isn’t What Happened. It’s What Got Stuck.

Trauma isn’t defined by the event itself, but by the impact it had on our system.

For some, that event was a single night that changed everything. For others, it was the slow erosion of safety over years, like trying to find your breath in a room where the air kept disappearing.

Our nervous systems are wired to protect us. Think fight, flight, freeze, fawn. But when we don’t get to complete those protective responses or when we’re silenced, stuck, or punished for reacting - our bodies store that energy, waiting for a time it might be safe enough to let it out. This is why someone can be years or even decades out of a harmful environment and still feel like they’re right back there at the smell of a candle, a tone of voice, or the words “we’re just worried about your soul.”

Our nervous systems aren’t trying to ruin our lives. They’re trying to save them. They just didn’t get the memo that the danger has passed.

Nervous System Work: It’s Not Just Deep Breathing and a Walk

Okay yes, breathwork and walks help. But “nervous system regulation” gets thrown around a lot these days, and it’s not one-size-fits-all. You can’t out-breathe a trauma response that’s trying to keep you alive.

What actually supports regulation is safety, connection, and a felt sense of being with yourself - especially when you’d rather dissociate into another dimension.

Here are some gentle (and genuinely helpful) ways to support your nervous system:

Start where you are. Seriously. Don’t aim for calm, aim for a little less chaos. Maybe your version of nervous system care today is eating something. Or looking at a tree. Or crying in the shower with music on.
Track your states. Get curious about when you feel anxious, shutdown, frozen, or overwhelmed. You don’t need to analyse it to death, just notice. Sometimes naming “I’m in freeze right now” is enough to loosen its grip.
Use anchors. Not metaphorical ones, literal. Weighted blankets. Cold water on your face. The feeling of your feet against the floor. Sensory regulation can help your system remember it’s here, now, not back there, then.
Know your window. The “window of tolerance” is the sweet spot where we can think, feel, and function. Outside of it? Hello, dysregulation. Learning what shrinks and expands your window is key, not to stay in it all the time, but to navigate it kindly.

Remember, regulation isn’t about becoming zen 24/7. It’s about returning to yourself - again and again.

The Missing Link? Self-Compassion (Even When It’s the Last Thing You Feel)

Let’s talk about the C-word (No, not that C-word - although trauma work might make you want to say that one too.). Compassion. Specifically, for yourself.

For many survivors, especially those from high-control environments; self-compassion was never taught. It was often framed as weakness, selfishness, or even sin. But here’s the thing: healing doesn’t happen through self-criticism. It happens through self-tending.

Self-compassion is not “letting yourself off the hook.” It’s letting yourself be human. Messy. In progress. Tender. And worthy.

If you’re a survivor:

Be gentle with the parts of you still scared, confused, or angry. They exist for a reason. You don’t have to logic them away, you just have to listen.
Try speaking to yourself like you would a friend. What would you say to someone who had survived what you have? Could you offer that same tone to your own inner world?

If you’re a practitioner:

Compassion fatigue is real. But so is compassion depletion. When you’re holding space for others’ pain, it’s easy to forget your own nervous system is absorbing, responding, and carrying. You’re not a trauma sponge. You’re a human.
Check in with your own window. If you’re chronically dysregulated, no amount of co-regulation will fix it, because it’s not your job to fix. It’s your job to be with. And sometimes that starts with being with yourself.

So What Does This Actually Look Like in Practice?

Let’s be honest, when you’re dysregulated, “go for a mindful walk” or “take 5 deep breaths” can sound about as helpful as “just relax” during a panic attack. You know what you should do, but your body is busy launching into space or turning into mashed potatoes.

So let’s talk about what nervous system care and self-compassion can really look like.

Because sometimes it’s not glamorous or cute. Sometimes it’s aggressively whispering, “You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe” while curled up in the car. And sometimes it’s ordering dumplings and binge-watching trash TV because that’s what gets you through.

Here are some more real life, out-of-the-box examples of what regulation and compassion might look like:

Talking to your dog like they’re your therapist. Sometimes just hearing yourself say “That really hurt, and I didn’t deserve that” out loud (even to a furball) can help shift something.
Slamming the boot of your car on repeat. Not violently (well… maybe a little). Just enough to release that pent-up fight energy that didn’t get to come out when it needed to. Or scream into a pillow. Or into a closed car. Or at the ocean. You choose your venue.
Canceling plans and not apologising for it. Your nervous system might not be up for people-ing. That’s not failure. That’s listening. Bonus points if you say “thanks for understanding” instead of over-explaining.
Sitting on the floor of your shower for 20 minutes because it feels like the only place you can breathe. That is nervous system work. You’re co-regulating with hot water and tiles.
Wearing the same hoodie four days in a row because it smells like safety. That’s sensory regulation. That’s brilliant. That’s science.
Making playlists for different states. One for angry energy. One for grief. One for numbness. One for when you want to pretend you’re the main character in a coming-of-age movie. Let music meet you where you’re at.
Ranting into your phone’s voice notes app like it’s your trauma journal. Get it out. You don’t need to solve it, you just need it not stuck in your throat.
Creating a “shutdown kit.” When you know you’re spiralling, have a box or list ready with things that help: weighted blanket, heat pack, emergency snacks, a letter from your grounded self, fidget toy, grounding stone, lip balm, herbal tea sachet, a note that says, “You’ve survived this before, stay with me.”
Eating something carby and salty. Genuinely. Chewing, crunching, and the satisfaction of snacks can bring you out of freeze and into your body. This isn’t emotional eating, it’s a legitimate intervention.
Texting a safe person “Can you just remind me I’m not a failure?” We don’t always need solutions. Sometimes we just need reminders.
Naming what’s happening out loud. Even if no one’s there. “I’m dissociating. I feel really far away. But I’m going to stay with myself.” This helps bridge the gap between your brain and body.

In Case No One’s Said This to You Lately

If your nervous system feels like a mess and your self-compassion is running on fumes, you’re not failing. You’re adapting. You’re surviving. And that matters.

The work of healing from trauma isn’t about becoming a better version of yourself. It’s about reconnecting with the parts of you that never stopped trying to keep you safe.

It’s about learning to be in your own body, on your own terms. It’s about creating space where softness, slowness, and self-kindness are allowed to exist, even if only for a moment at a time.

Healing Doesn’t Happen In Isolation

At The Religious Trauma Collective Online Event, we hosted a powerful session called “Reconnecting With Your Body Through Movement and Self-Compassion” with Erica Webb, where we discussed trauma responses, and the impact of fear and shame. The need for agency and choice and the power of self-compassion and movement in developing a felt sense of safety in our body.

These conversations are vital. Not just for validation, but for liberation.

Because when you realise you were never crazy, you were conditioned, it changes everything.⠀

If this blog speaks to your experience, The Religious Trauma Collective Online Event is for you. Grab your All Access Pass here to watch “Reconnecting With Your Body Through Movement and Self-Compassion”, along with dozens of other sessions on purity culture, spiritual abuse, clergy misconduct, cults, and more.

You deserve to reclaim your story.

You deserve to heal on your terms.

And no matter how far gone you feel, you’re already on your way back to yourself.