Why Trauma Safe Yoga is Here to Stay

So maybe you’ve seen the term “trauma-safe,” being thrown around lately and you’re wondering if it’s the next wellness trend. Well, I’m here to tell you, it’s here to stay.

Here’s why...

About ten years ago I went to a yoga class, I was going through some SHIT. I remember just wanting to be there for myself: to listen to my breath, sweat through the poses, and find an outlet to physically shake off all of these things that I couldn’t control. The class was coming to an end. I cozied myself up into Savasana: final resting pose. As I closed my eyes, the instructor cued the class to GRAB THE HAND OF THE PERSON NEXT TO YOUR MAT.

E x c u s e   m e? Hold hands? Oh you mean like, right now? Okay wow, we’re doing this.

Everything in my body was resistant. I wanted to scream. But you know what? As I felt the people next to me reaching for my hand like Thing in Adam’s Family, I worried more about letting people down - the instructor & the sweaty strangers next to me - than myself and my boundaries.

My hands felt like anchors. A flashback of a repressed sexual assault flooded through my body. I was being held down and I said nothing because it was easier for it to just be over than to speak up.

Class was over. I rolled up my mat, scuffed on my shoes and smiled goodbye on my way out the door.

The second I pulled my car out of the parking lot, my whole body started to tremble and shake uncontrollably. My hands seized and spasmed as I did my best to hold the steering wheel straight. I tried to hold back tears, I could repress this, I thought, hold it in, it’s not that big of a deal. Yeah, no. Not happening. My face went completely numb and my nose and cheeks felt flushed and tingly as waves of tears spewed from my eyes. I pulled the car over just in time; I could barely open the driver’s door before leaning over to throw up on the side of the road.

It was as if I were re-living the experience of a sexual trauma, but this time, not able to disassociate myself to safety.

I vowed that if I ever became a yoga teacher, I would NEVER allow this in class. In fact, this was a pivotal moment in WHY I became a yoga teacher. And once I became a yoga instructor, I continued my studies and certifications focusing specifically on trauma-safe and trauma-informed yoga practices.

I will hold a safe space for these people. These are my people.

I will give them tools for these feelings. I’ve felt them too.

I will sit with them until it’s safe again. I won’t leave you on the side of the road.

What to expect:

We open our trauma-based yoga practice knowing that each pose is an invitation or suggestion. Nothing is forced. We give you a few options of poses to take if anything starts to come up that feels unstable, poses that help reground the body and refocus on the breath.

Suggestive and invitational language is used. Some examples: “If it feels okay in the body, connect the hands to the heart.” “If it is available to you, lift the arms overhead.” “If it feels safe, close your eyes.”  In doing so, the student has full control of what is going on in their bodies. The choices they make are their own, and, they’re allowed to explore and see what feels best. There’s more freedom than say, an Iyengar type yoga class that focuses heavily on proper alignment. Many times, individuals with a history of child, sexual or domestic partner abuse have lost what it means to BE IN CONTROL of their bodies, so reminding a student that this practice is theirs, whatever that may look like, can be empowering.

We do a sensory check in at the beginning of class: what are some things you hear in this space? See? Smell? Feel? Taste? These are not shared among students, but just used as a way for the individual to safely drop-in to the physical space and identify any environmental distractions. People with PTSD are often triggered by smells or noises, sometimes even colors. By doing a sensory check in, we’re scanning and becoming aware of, instead of surprised by, these things. Surprises can stimulate the fight or flight response, and that’s no good in trauma yoga.

Mostly, your space is your own. You will not be asked to give the person next to you a hug or hold their hand in Savasana. For the duration of the class, side conversations and touching is not allowed. You do not have to answer to anyone or perform for anyone else’s feelings. You’re there to focus on yourself.

And hey, maybe this devotional practice of self awareness and body-trauma-intentional-movement helps you feel more comfortable creating healthy boundaries and seeing what feels safe to share off your mat, but that’s also not the goal or point ;)

Sharing an excerpt from Social Work Today by Kate Jackson about Trauma-Sensitive Yoga:

“The objective of trauma-sensitive yoga is not to access emotions or dredge up trauma memories, but rather to help students heighten their body awareness—to notice what is happening inside their bodies—and thereby learn to release tension, reduce and control fear and arousal, and tolerate sensation. The practice is based on the growing understanding that trauma takes a heavy toll on the body and the brain. When the body absorbs and anticipates trauma, individuals are likely to experience hyperarousal, hypervigilance, and an inability to calm themselves. At the same time, their bodies respond by shuttering or dampening sensation. They avoid stimuli and their bodies become numb. Trauma-sensitive yoga helps them learn to calm their minds and regulate their physical responses and, thus, their emotions. They're able to learn to recognize and tolerate physical sensations and thereby regain a feeling of safety inside their bodies.”