I’m not sure about you, but it feels to me like I spent a lot of years mired in the story that trauma and kink don’t mix. That BDSM is dangerous, that it deepens traumatic wiring, that it’s too much, too fast, too risky.

But like many stories that pitch a ‘right’ and a ‘wrong’ way, this attitude washes away erotic nuance and robs people of agency. What if trauma informed BDSM was more complex and potentially full of healing, wholing, and reclamation? What if trauma healing at its finest is sometimes found in intentional explorations of our most visceral selves? What if taking our deep wounds and infusing pleasure into them transmuted these wounds into a source of power? That edgy erotic play can be deeply consensual, taboo, AND transgressive? That we can be tender, fierce, fragile, powerful, scarred, and wildly alive… and sometimes all at once.

In the world of resolving traumatic stress—especially when it comes to pleasure, gender, and sexuality—there’s a question that I’ve orbited for years:

Should we work with our thoughts—our beliefs and stories and mindset—to help our nervous systems feel more at ease?

Or

Should we attend to our nervous systems first, knowing that a sense of safety and regulation can shift how we think and feel?

If you’ve ever felt afraid or overwhelmed in a moment that was supposed to be pleasurable, you’re not alone.

Maybe a soft touch sent your heart racing… in a way that didn’t feel that great. Maybe your body responded with arousal… even though your mind felt unsure. These moments can be confusing and might come with a cascade of questions: Was that fear or turn-on? Why did I freeze when I wanted to feel close? Am I broken?

What you’re experiencing makes perfect sense when we understand a little more about how the nervous system works.

In the age of medical tests and TikTok, it’s easier than ever to find yourself with a diagnosis—or at least something that feels like one. Whether a doctor’s office handed you an official label, or you’ve pieced it together through a mix of cultural influence, social media, and your own observations, having a diagnosis can sometimes feel like a double-edged sword.

On one hand, a diagnosis can provide relief: “Finally, something explains what I’m experiencing!” “Finally, tools and strategies and a community geared towards my context!” But on the other hand, it can start to feel like the diagnosis defines you, boxes you in, or even whispers, “This is just how things are now.”

Whether your diagnosis was handed down by a professional or crowdsourced by your favorite content creators, the truth is the same: you’re more than a label. A diagnosis can be helpful and sometimes liberatory information, however it doesn’t automatically dictate how you make choices, build relationships, or dream about your life. Let’s dive into how to maintain a sense of power, possibility, and playfulness in your life.

Have you ever felt a moment so expansive that it seemed to shift something deep inside you? The quiet majesty of a forest, the raw energy of a storm, or a fleeting sense of connection that felt sacred. Moments like these can spark awe—a profound reminder of the vast beauty that exists within and around us.

But awe isn’t just a fleeting feeling. When we allow it to settle into our bodies—when we embody awe—it becomes a path to greater presence and aliveness.

In a world that often pulls us away from ourselves, embodied awe calls us back. It reconnects us to our wholeness, to the wisdom of our bodies, and to the truth that we belong—not just to the earth but to the intricate web of life.

Breathing is a truly remarkable system within the body—both automatic and intentional. We rarely think about it as we go about our day, yet we can consciously manipulate it to influence how we feel. This unique quality makes breath a powerful “bridge” between the autonomic nervous system and conscious self-regulation, giving us the ability to shift our physical and emotional states.

For those navigating trauma recovery, breathwork can offer a pathway to greater awareness, choice, pleasure, and connection in the body. It can also be misused and is often misunderstood.

Healing from sexual trauma is a deeply personal journey, one that calls for patience and the courage to reconnect with yourself at your own pace. Trauma often disrupts our relationship with the body, leaving us feeling disconnected, unsafe, or numb. Rebuilding this connection is an act of reclamation—of safety, pleasure, and self-trust.

A key part of this process involves exploring the ways we experience our bodies and the world around us. Four essential sensory systems—interoception, proprioception, exteroception, and neuroception—help us navigate and make sense of our internal and external environments. By gently engaging with these systems, we can support our healing and rediscover what it feels like to be connected, present, and whole.

When it comes to recovering from sexual trauma, somatics offers a unique and powerful pathway for healing. Unlike talk therapy alone, which focuses on processing experiences through the mind, somatic practices invite us to reconnect with the body—the place where trauma is stored. Learning to “feel yourself from the inside” is not only a radical act of self-care, but it’s also a way to re-establish trust with your body and reclaim your innate capacity for pleasure, choice, and aliveness.

Your nervous system is a powerful, dynamic part of who you are. It shapes how you experience the world, respond to challenges, and move through moments of stress, connection, and joy. Often, we think of regulating the nervous system as a reactive process—something we do after we’ve been thrown into dysregulation. But what if we could playfully and mindfully explore our nervous systems so we have knowledge before challenges arise?

When we think about pleasure, we often default to ideas of indulgence—moments of sweet satisfaction like savouring chocolate cake, taking a hot bath, or binging our favourite show. While these pleasures are important, they represent only one dimension of the full spectrum of embodied joy. Read more to learn about eudaemonic vs hedonic pleasure and their roles in trauma recovery.

When healing from sexual trauma, reconnecting with your body can feel both empowering and intimidating. The body, after all, holds so much—our joys, our fears, our safety, our pain. Developing a relationship with your body on your own terms is an act of reclaiming, one that requires patience, and, in the words of adrienne maree brown, the willingness to “move at the speed of trust”.

Healing from sexual trauma is a deeply personal journey, yet it flourishes when we embrace a multidisciplinary approach. Trauma doesn’t just affect the mind; it ripples through every element of ourselves: our body, psyche, relationships, and sense of belonging in the world. By holding these interconnected layers of experience in a recovery process, survivors can support themselves in thriving.

In a world where sex, pleasure, and the body are often treated as clinical or taboo subjects, many therapists, coaches, and healers are beginning to explore a different approach. The field of somatics — rooted in body awareness and giving voice to sensation — has expanded to address not only trauma recovery but, in the world of somatic sex education, also the cultivation of pleasure and safety within ourselves and our clients.

When it comes to healing from trauma, we often focus on talk therapy, mindfulness, and other therapeutic practices, which are all important. But one aspect that is sometimes overlooked—yet incredibly powerful—is the role of pleasure in healing the nervous system.

In trauma recovery circles, there's often a lot of discussion about exploring the narrative—the ‘why’ behind unwanted past experiences. Diving into our personal stories can be a powerful tool for gaining clarity and fostering self-awareness. It can also help us reframe and rewrite the story we tell ourselves.

Often when working with clients we might bump up against challenges when discussing relationship structures. Folks might find themselves in a bind - where the structure they have slid into (or consciously chosen) doesn’t reflect their values or what they want for themselves or their partners.

Ecosexuality is a belief system of relating to the world around us and the planet as a lover. Also called sexecology, it was coined by Annie Sprinkle and Elizabeth Stephens. Frankly I don’t resonate with the word ecosexual, however, I deeply resonate with the philosophy.

When you’re in your pleasure (and I mean pleasure from spicy play to afternoon snacks) are you able to slow down just a little bit more, and see what you notice about your experience?

Remember: your sexuality is centred in your relationship with yourself.

Having a sex positive life means actively committing to practicing the strengths & skills that reflect the life you want for yourself.