I recently had the opportunity to connect with What Were You Wearing Australia, a survivor-focused not-for-profit, who are on a mission to end sexual violence through advocacy, education, and awareness.
In the lead-up to our collaboration, I found myself reflecting on the meaning within that question: What were you wearing? Their name calls out one long-held and harmful stigma that leaves too many survivors questioning whether the clothes they wore could somehow explain what happened. As if their outfit, rather than the person who harmed them, was responsible for the harm they experienced. This perspective reinforces a deep and painful lie that many survivors already struggle with – that they should have done something differently. That they are in some way responsible for what happened.
Many survivors of sexual violence grapple with self-questioning and self-blame. And for some, that inner shame is compounded by something even harder to put into words: a lingering sense of disconnection from themselves.
You might be surviving day to day, doing what needs to be done. On the outside, everything seems fine. But inside, you feel numb. Detached. Flat. Not quite yourself.
This is where we begin to understand something called functional freeze – a protective nervous system response that can emerge after sexual trauma. We explore functional freeze in this blog: Functional Freeze and Sexual Trauma.
In this post, we’re going to focus on what comes next: how to begin rebuilding a felt sense of safety in your body after trauma. Not by forcing it, but by learning how to gently come home to yourself, one small step at a time.
A brief recap: Why does functional freeze happen after sexual trauma?
Functional freeze is a survival response. It happens when your nervous system, overwhelmed by extreme stress or unresolved trauma, freezes internally, while maintaining outward functioning.
From the outside, you might look like you’re coping: going to work, caring for others, getting through the day. But inside, you might feel distant. Like you’re going through the motions, but not really here.
You might describe it as numbness. Or emptiness.
Like your emotions are muted, or your needs don’t register.
Like it’s hard to know what you want, or even to care as you normally would.
Unlike the fight or flight responses, which prepare you for action (fleeing or fighting the source of danger), freeze is about survival through stillness, and through emotional and psychological distance. It’s the body’s way of protecting itself when something is too much, or there is no option for escape.
Functional freeze can look like:
- Ongoing struggles with intimacy, even in safe relationships
- Feeling distant from your own emotions and/or body
- Experiencing guilt for your body’s response to trauma
- Feeling like you’re living on autopilot as you go through your daily life.
It’s really important to know that this response isn’t your fault, or something you’re choosing – it’s an automatic survival strategy your body is hardwired to take in times of immense stress or threat to safety.
And, if you’re feeling stuck in a functional freeze, please know this is something we can support and heal, through trauma-informed therapy and nervous system care.
Why feeling safe in your body can be so hard after trauma
Sexual trauma doesn’t just leave emotional wounds, it can fracture our sense of safety at the deepest levels. Even long after the event, the body may hold the imprint of the trauma, keeping us in a state of hypervigilance, disconnect, or complete shutdown.
You might know, logically, that you’re safe now. But your body might not feel that way yet.
This isn’t because you’re doing something wrong. It’s because trauma lives in the body as well as the mind, and so, healing needs to include the body, too.
The difference between being safe and feeling safe
You can be physically safe and still feel unsafe. This is one of the most frustrating parts of recovery for many survivors.
Feeling safe isn’t something we can think ourselves into. It’s something our body and brain need to experience.
Imagine you’re faced with a wild animal and you need to make quick decisions about how to protect yourself. Your body instantly assesses the threat and prepares you for survival (whether that’s to fight, flee, freeze, or fawn). Now imagine that, while your nervous system is still on high alert, you try to tell your mind: “It’ll be okay”, or “you’re overreacting”, or “this animal isn’t really a threat to me”.
Even if the threat is not as high as initially thought and you are safe, it can take the body time to believe it. Time to process the stress and the experience of danger. While your body is still in survival mode, scanning for danger, no amount of rational thinking will make your muscles unclench or your breath deepen.
It’s like telling someone who’s sprinting away from danger to “just relax”. They’ll only start to slow down once they know, in their body, that the danger has passed.
This is what it can feel like to live with unresolved trauma. Even when the danger is long past, your nervous system might still be responding as if it’s happening right now. The body remembers, not just the event itself, but the felt sense of fear, helplessness, or overwhelm that came with it.
That’s why the mind alone can’t talk you into feeling safe again. When your system has learned that the world isn’t always safe, or that closeness, touch, or trust can lead to harm, it will take time to restore a felt sense of safety. Your body is doing its best to protect you with the tools it learned at the time. But healing happens when we begin to offer the body new experiences: moments of safety, of support, of softness, so it can learn that it’s safe now.
Small steps to rebuild safety
When trauma has disrupted your connection to your body, rebuilding it can feel like an overwhelming task. That’s why it’s so important to start small, to move at your own pace.
Here are a few gentle, body-based ways to begin:
1. Orienting to safety: Look around the space you’re in. Notice five things you can see around you that reconnect you with this present moment. Maybe you can see outside to the trees and flowers, perhaps you can see an animal, or a fluffy blanket, a favourite book, or painting. Remind yourself that you are here now, in this moment. This helps your nervous system register the present, rather than the past.
2. Connecting with your senses: Pick one sense and gently explore it. Hold a warm mug, run your hands under cool water, or notice the sounds around you. These small actions can help you feel more grounded and present in this moment, right now.
3. Movement that feels good: Trauma can make it feel hard to move, or like you’re not allowed to take up space. But movement, when it’s safe and supportive, can help reawaken your body. This could mean stretching in bed, swaying to music, or taking a walk outside.
4. Breath awareness: Try gently bringing your attention to your breath. Not to control it, but to notice it. Maybe placing one hand on your chest and one on your belly. Even a few slow breaths can help your body find a little bit of release from tension or stress.
5. Listening to your “yes” and your “no”: Rebuilding safety also means reconnecting with your boundaries. Practice tuning into what feels okay, and what doesn’t. It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to pause. Listening to your body’s signals and setting your boundaries is a powerful act of reclaiming trust.
It’s okay (and important) to take your time
Healing doesn’t happen overnight. And it doesn’t happen by pushing yourself into places that don’t feel safe yet.
Some days, you might feel more connected. Other days, you might feel shut down again. That’s okay. It’s all part of the process.
What matters is that you keep gently showing up for yourself. That you offer your body the kindness and patience it needs.
You’re not alone in this
If you’re feeling disconnected from your body, please know: you’re not alone. So many survivors experience this. It doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your body found a way to protect you, and now, you’re learning how to feel safe again.
Rebuilding that sense of safety takes time, tenderness, and support. You don’t have to do it all on your own. And you don’t have to rush.
You can once again feel at home in your body. You can feel safe again. One small step at a time, it’s possible.
