Touch, Boundaries, and Reclaiming the Body After Trauma

For many trauma survivors, touch is complicated. It can bring comfort, but also tension. It can feel nourishing, but also triggering. Especially for those with a history of sexual trauma, physical abuse, medical trauma, or attachment wounds, touch may feel unsafe — even when it’s intended with care.

Yet, human beings are wired for touch. From the moment we’re born, we rely on physical contact to regulate our nervous systems and build a sense of safety in the world. So how do we begin to reclaim the body — and touch — after trauma?

This article explores the relationship between trauma, touch, and body autonomy, and why boundaries are central to healing.

When Touch Feels Unsafe

For people who have experienced trauma involving their bodies, the message imprinted into the nervous system is often:

“My body is not mine.”“I can’t say no.”“If someone touches me, I have to tolerate it.”“Touch = danger.”

In these cases, even non-threatening touch — a hug from a friend, a hand on the shoulder — can cause the body to tense, freeze, or dissociate. This isn’t irrational. It’s a nervous system doing its job to protect the person based on past experiences.

When the body remembers boundary violations — especially ones that went unacknowledged — it may react to any closeness as if it’s happening again. These are survival patterns, not overreactions.

The Importance of Boundaries

A huge part of trauma healing is rebuilding agency — the ability to say yes, no, or not yet and have it respected.

Boundaries aren’t about pushing people away — they’re about feeling safe enough to be close. They give us the space to reconnect with our bodies on our own terms.

In trauma-informed work, this includes:

Asking before offering physical contact (even a handshake or hug)
Offering alternatives to touch-based interventions
Supporting clients or individuals in checking in with their bodily response before agreeing to touch
Teaching and honouring consent — not just verbally, but somatically (how the body feels)

Boundaries are also about internal safety. For many survivors, the hardest part is not someone else’s touch — it’s their own relationship with their body. This can include shame, dissociation, disgust, or fear of being “too much” or “not enough.”

Reclaiming the Body, Slowly

Reclaiming your body after trauma is not a linear journey. It doesn’t start with being okay with touch. It often starts with noticing:

What sensations are present?
Where is there numbness, tension, or sensitivity?
What kinds of touch feel grounding or overstimulating?
Do I know what a “yes” or “no” feels like in my body?

Once awareness grows, so does the capacity to choose. Healing may include:

Gentle self-touch (e.g., placing a hand on your chest or holding your own hand)
Using props like weighted blankets, soft textures, or temperature to explore sensation safely
Trauma-informed bodywork (with clear consent and boundaries)
Working with a somatic therapist to track and explore physical responses
Sensual but non-sexual movement (e.g., dancing, stretching, yoga) to rebuild body trust

Cultural and Identity Considerations

For racialized, queer, trans, or disabled survivors, the story of the body is often layered with systemic trauma, medical harm, and cultural boundaries around touch. Reclaiming the body is also about reclaiming narratives of worth, sovereignty, and identity — especially in spaces that have historically pathologized or objectified the body.

For some, this might look like redefining what touch means. For others, it may involve reclaiming sensuality, pleasure, or intimacy in ways that feel culturally or spiritually safe.

There is no “right way” to return to the body. The path is yours.

Final Thoughts

Touch is not the enemy. But for many survivors, touch became entangled with powerlessness, danger, and shame. Healing means untangling that — slowly, intentionally, and with care.

You don’t have to rush back into touch. You don’t have to force intimacy. You don’t even have to “love” your body. But you deserve to feel sovereign in your own skin. You deserve to trust your boundaries, know your no, and believe that your body belongs to you.

Reclaiming the body is not just about healing pain. It’s about rediscovering safety, choice, and the right to feel — in your own time, and on your own terms.

Nilu Mohaktarian is a psychotherapist (qualifying) at Catharsis Psychology and Psychotherapy.