Integrating Somatic Therapy Into Trauma Work
For many years, my work as a depth psychotherapist has been rooted in listening—listening to stories, symbols, dreams, and the quiet emotional truths that live beneath words. I’ve trusted the power of insight and relationship, of being deeply seen and reflected, to bring healing.
And over time, something else has been asking to be included.
More and more, both in my own healing and in my work with clients, I’ve come to understand this: trauma does not live only in the mind. It lives in the body. In the nervous system. In the places that learned long ago how to survive without language.
This is why I’m beginning to more intentionally weave somatic therapy into my depth-oriented trauma therapy work—not as a departure, but as a deepening. A slower, kinder way of listening. One that includes the body as an ally rather than something to override or push past.
When Insight Isn’t Enough
Talk therapy can be profoundly healing. Being understood—especially if you were misunderstood, unseen, or emotionally alone early in life—can change everything.
And still, many people find that even with insight, their bodies remain on edge.
You may know why you feel anxious or shut down. You may understand the origins of your trauma. And yet your nervous system continues to respond as if the danger is still happening.
This doesn’t mean therapy isn’t working. And it certainly doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong.
Trauma—particularly developmental or relational trauma—is often stored in the nervous system, not just in memory or narrative. It lives in breath patterns, muscle tension, startle responses, and a body that learned to stay ready.
Somatic trauma therapy helps us meet these experiences where they actually live.
A Gentle Understanding of the Nervous System
(Polyvagal Theory, Simply Put)
One framework that has quietly shaped my understanding of trauma and healing is Polyvagal Theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges. At its heart, polyvagal theory helps explain how the nervous system is always asking one central question: Am I safe?
Rather than seeing our responses as “overreactions,” this lens helps us understand them as intelligent adaptations.
Very simply, the nervous system moves through different states:
Safety and connection (ventral vagal): when we feel present, grounded, and able to connect
Fight or flight (sympathetic): when anxiety, urgency, anger, or panic arise
Shutdown or collapse (dorsal vagal): when the system becomes numb, exhausted, disconnected, or hopeless
From a somatic therapy perspective, none of these states are problems to eliminate. They are messages. They reflect a nervous system that learned how to protect you.
Healing happens not by forcing calm, but by gently increasing safety and flexibility over time.
Why Nervous System Healing Is Central to Trauma Therapy
Many of the people I work with are thoughtful, sensitive, and deeply self-aware. And yet, their bodies remain braced.
They may struggle with:
Chronic anxiety or hypervigilance
Emotional overwhelm or sudden shutdown
Difficulty resting or trusting
Feeling disconnected from their body
A quiet belief that something is fundamentally wrong with them
Somatic trauma therapy offers a different story.
Instead of asking, What’s wrong with me? we begin to ask, What happened to me—and how did my body learn to survive it?
Nervous system healing is not about fixing or controlling the body. It’s about developing a relationship with it—learning how to notice signals, respect limits, and respond with care rather than judgment.
How Somatic Therapy Lives Inside Depth Work
In my practice, somatic therapy is woven gently into the relational, insight-oriented work we’re already doing. It is never about pushing, reliving, or overwhelming the system.
It might look like:
Noticing sensations as emotions arise
Gently tracking breath, tension, or posture
Naming nervous system states with compassion
Slowing down when things feel flooded
Using grounding or resourcing when needed
Dreams, images, memories, and meaning still matter deeply. But now, we also listen to the body as part of the unconscious—carrying memory, grief, and wisdom in its own language.
This allows trauma therapy to feel not just insightful, but safer.
What to Expect in Somatic Trauma Therapy
Somatic trauma therapy is not something you perform or do “correctly.” It is a collaborative, attuned process that moves at your nervous system’s pace.
You can expect:
A slow, respectful approach that prioritizes safety
Choice and consent at every step
Gentle attention to body sensations—only as feels manageable
Support in learning how your nervous system responds to stress
A focus on building capacity rather than pushing through
For many people, this work feels unfamiliar at first—especially if you’ve spent a lifetime living from the neck up. We go slowly. We stay curious. Nothing is forced.
Honoring the Pace of Healing
Trauma often forms in environments where there was too much, too fast, or too little support when it mattered most. Healing asks for something different.
In somatic trauma therapy, slowness is not avoidance. It is attunement.
We learn to listen for when the body is ready—and when it needs more grounding, more containment, or more rest. This can be especially meaningful for people who are used to pushing, performing strength, or overriding their own needs.
An Embodied Way Forward
Bringing somatic therapy into my depth work has made the therapy space feel more alive, more compassionate, and more responsive to the realities of trauma.
Clients often share that they feel:
More at home in their bodies
Less afraid of their emotional states
More trusting of their internal signals
More tenderness toward themselves
This is not fast work. But it is respectful work.
At its core, trauma therapy is not about fixing what is broken. It is about restoring relationship—with the body, the nervous system, and the parts of the self that learned to survive quietly and alone.
As I continue integrating somatic approaches into my trauma therapy practice, I remain guided by a simple belief: healing happens in relationship—and the body belongs in that relationship too.