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The Whisper Test: What We Say When We Think It Doesn’t Matter

The Whisper Test: What We Say When We Think It Doesn’t Matter

This is Part 2 of the “Weight of Words” series. Read Part 1: Why I’m Writing This Series


Recently, I was in a professional setting when I heard body shaming language that stopped me cold – words whispered as if they were shameful.

“Extra large.”

Not loudly. Not meanly. Just… quietly. As if the size itself was something to hide. As if saying it at full volume might somehow conjure something inappropriate into the room.

Watching this person’s voice drop, I observed them lean in slightly, treating a clothing size like scandalous information that needed delicate handling.

A realization hit me: We’ve made certain words about bodies into dirty words.

The Pattern We Don’t Question

Think about it. When was the last time you heard someone whisper “small” or “petite”? When did you ever hear someone lower their voice to say “she’s so thin”? Those words flow freely. They don’t get treated like secrets.

But “extra large”? “Plus size”? Even just “big”? Those get the whisper treatment. The sideways glance. The dropped voice. A quick look around to make sure no one’s listening.

Here’s what that whisper communicates:

This size is something to be ashamed of. We all agree this is unfortunate, don’t we? I’m being discreet because I’m talking about something embarrassing. This person’s body is a problem we need to speak about carefully.

Kindness isn’t what drives the whisper. It’s not protecting anyone. Instead, it reinforces the idea that certain bodies are acceptable topics of public conversation, while certain bodies are shameful secrets.

Whispers Travel Further Than We Think

Here’s the thing about whispers: they’re rarely as quiet as we imagine.

Countless coaching clients have shared with me exactly what was whispered about them – sometimes decades ago. Words that were supposed to be “just between us” somehow always, always reached their ears. Worse yet, sometimes the words never reached them directly but shaped how people treated them anyway.

That hushed conversation about someone’s size? It changes everything. How you interact with them shifts. Whether you include them becomes questionable. Assumptions form about their capability, confidence, health, or worthiness of equal treatment.

Everyone in the Room Is Learning

The person being discussed isn’t the only one who hears it.

Everyone else in that room absorbs the message too. What size is considered whisper-worthy in this space becomes clear. Which bodies are acceptable and which bodies are problems to be discussed in hushed tones – the lesson lands on everyone present.

Wearing an extra large yourself and hearing someone whisper those words about someone else? You know exactly where you stand. Your body is being discussed the same way when you leave the room. The shameful category includes you.

Research on weight stigma and discrimination demonstrates that this kind of body shaming language creates real psychological harm, affecting mental health, self-esteem, and even physical health outcomes.

Imagine a Different Approach

Let me ask you something: What would happen if we treated all body descriptors the same way?

Picture saying “she’s an extra large” with the same neutral tone used for “she has brown hair” or “she’s about 5’6″”. What if size was just… information? Not a moral judgment. Not a whispered secret. Not commentary on someone’s worth, discipline, or acceptability.

Simply a fact about what size clothing fits their body.

This Week’s Challenge: Notice Your Whispers

Here’s my challenge for you: Notice your whispers this week.

Pay attention when you drop your voice to talk about someone’s body. Observe when you treat certain descriptions like they need discretion. Consider what you’re communicating – not just about the person you’re discussing, but about whose bodies are acceptable and whose are shameful.

Every whisper is a message. More people are receiving that message than you think.

Bodies aren’t secrets. They’re not scandals. Hushed tones and careful discretion shouldn’t be required for discussing them.

They’re just bodies. All worthy of the same respect, the same volume, the same dignity.

The Weight Our Words Carry

What if we saved our whispers for actual secrets, and spoke about all bodies with the same matter-of-fact respect?

This isn’t just about being politically correct. Recognizing the weight our words carry matters – especially the ones we think are quiet enough not to matter.

They matter. They always matter.

People in the room – all of them – are listening.


You are valuable beyond measure – no whisper can change that.


CONTINUE THE SERIES:

 

The Weight of Words: Why I’m Writing This Series

The Weight of Words: Why I’m Writing This Series

I work with people every day who are healing from trauma they didn’t even know they were carrying. Sometimes that trauma comes from a single devastating event. But more often? It comes from a thousand small cuts – comments, glances, whispers – that told them they weren’t acceptable as they are.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies. Specifically, about the casual cruelty we’ve normalized around weight and size in America – the kind of body shame that becomes trauma we don’t even recognize.

I’ve heard “extra large” whispered like a curse word, as if describing someone’s clothing size requires the same hushed tone we’d use for actual profanity. I’ve watched people celebrate weight loss without knowing the person they’re praising is struggling with disordered eating. I’ve seen someone’s eyes light up because they “only need a small instead of a medium” – as if moving down a size makes them more valuable as a human being.

Every Body Tells a Story We Haven’t Been Invited to Read

Here’s what I know as a trauma-informed coachEvery body tells a story we haven’t been invited to read.

That person who gained weight? Maybe they’re on medication that saved their life. Maybe they finally stopped starving themselves. Maybe they’re caring for a dying parent and survival looks like drive-through dinners right now. Maybe they’re just… living in a body that’s shaped like that.

That person who lost weight? Maybe they’re thriving. Or maybe they’re in crisis. Maybe they’re sick. Maybe they’re so anxious they can’t eat. Maybe the compliments you’re giving them are making them feel more trapped in destructive patterns.

We don’t know. And here’s the thing: we don’t need to know.

What we do need to do is stop treating body size as a moral issue, a conversation starter, or a measure of someone’s discipline or worth.

Why We Need to Talk About Body Shame

Over the next several posts, I’m going to explore different angles of this issue – not because I have all the answers, but because I think we need to have better conversations. Conversations that don’t leave people feeling less-than. Conversations that don’t reinforce trauma. Conversations that remember there’s a whole human being attached to every body we feel so comfortable commenting on.

Research shows that weight stigma creates significant psychological harm, affecting mental health, self-esteem, and even physical health outcomes. The casual comments we make aren’t harmless – they’re contributing to a culture of body shame that impacts millions of people every single day.

Because here’s my core belief, the one that guides everything I do in my coaching practice.
You are valuable beyond measure. Not at a certain size. Not after you lose or gain weight. Not when you fit into what someone else thinks you should look like.

Right now. As you are. Valuable beyond measure.

Who This Series Is For

If you’ve ever felt the sting of a comment about your body – whether you were told you’re too much or not enough – this series is for you. If you’ve ever made those comments without realizing the impact, this series is for you too.

Let’s talk about ending body shame, about the weight of words, and why it’s time we all carried them more carefully

Sexual Trauma, Porn & Shame: Questions Survivors Ask

Sexual Trauma, Porn & Shame: Questions Survivors Ask

Let’s Talk About What Nobody Talks About: Porn, Shame, and the Search for Control

Part 2 of the “Questions Nobody Asks Out Loud” Series

 

Okay, deep breath. We’re going there.

This is the blog post you’re reading in incognito mode. The one you’ll probably close if someone walks into the room. The topic that makes even therapists squirm a little.

But here’s the thing: if we keep treating certain topics like they’re too shameful to discuss, shame wins. And shame is exactly what keeps you stuck, isolated, and convinced you’re the only one struggling with this.

So let’s talk about porn. And control. And why trauma survivors sometimes end up in a complicated relationship with sexuality that nobody prepared them for.

No judgment. No shame. Just honest conversation about the questions you’ve been too afraid to ask.


In This Post:

  • Why trauma survivors turn to porn when triggered or stressed
  • The difference between coping mechanism and addiction
  • Why you feel aroused by things that remind you of abuse
  • Whether healthy sexuality is possible after trauma
  • What to do when you can’t stop the cycle alone

The Questions Nobody Asks (But Everyone Wonders)

Question 1: “Why do I turn to porn when I’m triggered or stressed?”

Because your brain is trying to solve a problem, and it’s using the tools it has—even if those tools aren’t actually helping.

Here’s what’s happening: When you experienced sexual trauma, your brain got wired to associate sexuality with a confusing mix of powerlessness, fear, shame, and sometimes physical sensation. That’s a lot for a developing nervous system to process.

For some survivors, porn becomes a way to:

Reclaim control. During abuse, you had no control over what happened to your body. With porn, you control what you see, when you see it, when it starts, when it stops. You’re the one in charge. That feeling of control can be intoxicating when you’ve felt powerless.

Manage overwhelming emotions. Anxiety, shame, loneliness, anger—these feelings are intense and uncomfortable. Sexual arousal (even if it’s not connected to genuine desire) temporarily floods your system with different chemicals. It’s like hitting a reset button on your nervous system. Except it’s not actually resetting anything—it’s just distracting you.

Avoid real intimacy. Real intimacy requires vulnerability, and vulnerability feels dangerous when someone used your vulnerability to hurt you. Porn offers a simulation of sexuality without the terrifying risk of actually being seen by another person.

Process confusing feelings about sexuality. If your first introduction to sexuality was abuse, you might use porn to try to understand what “normal” sexuality looks like, or to figure out what you’re supposed to feel, or to explore feelings you’re ashamed to have.

“None of this makes you a bad person. It makes you a hurt person trying to cope with pain you were never supposed to carry.”


Understanding shame and control after sexual trauma - breaking free from cycles


Question 2: “But isn’t porn always bad? Doesn’t it make everything worse?”

This is where I’m going to give you a nuanced answer you won’t find in most places.

Porn itself isn’t the core problem—but it’s often not the solution either.

From a Biblical perspective, I believe sexuality is meant to be expressed in the context of committed relationship, intimacy, and genuine connection. Porn strips sexuality down to images on a screen, disconnected from relationship, often depicting dynamics that are exploitative or degrading. That’s not what our Creator intended.

But here’s what I also know: shame about using porn often does more damage than the porn itself.

When you’re already drowning in shame from abuse, adding another layer of “I’m disgusting for watching this” creates a shame spiral that makes everything worse. You feel bad, you turn to porn to numb the bad feeling, you feel worse because you used porn, so you use more porn to numb that feeling, and the cycle continues.

Breaking this cycle isn’t about shaming yourself into stopping. It’s about understanding what you’re really looking for and finding healthier ways to get it.

The question isn’t “Am I bad for using porn?” The question is: “What am I actually trying to get from this, and is it working?”


Key Insight:

Breaking the shame cycle requires understanding, not self-punishment.

The cycle: Feel bad → Use porn to cope → Feel worse about using porn → Use more porn to cope with that shame → Repeat

The breakthrough: Understand what you’re actually seeking → Find healthier ways to meet those needs → Break the pattern with compassion, not condemnation


Question 3: “What’s the difference between using porn as a coping mechanism and actual addiction?”

Good question. And honestly, the line can be blurry.

Coping mechanism means you’re using porn to manage difficult emotions, trauma responses, or stress—but you could stop if you really wanted to. It’s a choice (even if it doesn’t always feel like one).

Addiction means you’ve lost the ability to choose. You want to stop, you’ve tried to stop, but you keep going back even when it’s causing significant problems in your life—relationships falling apart, job performance suffering, legal consequences, financial issues.

Here’s how to tell the difference:

You might be coping (not addicted) if:

  • You can go days or weeks without it when life is stable
  • You use it primarily when triggered or stressed
  • You can stop when you want to, even if it’s hard
  • It’s not causing major life problems (yet)

You might be dealing with addiction if:

  • You’ve tried to stop multiple times and can’t
  • You’re spending hours daily that you can’t account for
  • You’re risking important relationships or your job
  • You feel completely powerless to stop
  • You’re escalating to more extreme content to get the same effect
  • You’re experiencing withdrawal symptoms when you try to stop

If you’re in the addiction category, you need more support than a blog post can offer—a therapist who specializes in both trauma and compulsive sexual behavior, possibly a support group, and definitely more intensive work.

If you’re in the coping category, there’s hope for developing healthier ways to manage what you’re feeling. That’s where tools like nervous system regulation, grounding techniques, and addressing the underlying trauma become essential.


Understanding shame and control after sexual trauma - breaking free from cycles


Question 4: “Why do I feel aroused by things that remind me of my abuse?”

Oh, this one. This is the question that makes people feel like they’re truly, deeply broken.

You’re not.

Here’s what’s happening: Your brain wired sexuality and trauma together because they happened at the same time. When your brain was developing its understanding of “sexuality,” abuse was part of that picture. So now, those neural pathways are connected in ways that feel disturbing and shameful.

This is called trauma bonding or traumatic arousal, and it’s a recognized phenomenon. It doesn’t mean you wanted the abuse. It doesn’t mean you liked it. It doesn’t mean you’re destined to repeat it.

It means your brain made connections during a formative time that now need to be gently rewired.

Some survivors find themselves aroused by:

  • Scenarios that involve powerlessness or coercion
  • Dynamics that mirror the abuse
  • Content that would have disturbed them before the trauma

And then they spiral into shame: “What’s wrong with me? Why would this turn me on? Does this mean I wanted it? Am I going to become an abuser?”

No. You’re experiencing a trauma response, not a character flaw.

“Arousal doesn’t equal desire. Your body can respond to stimuli even when your values, your heart, and your actual desires are saying something completely different.”

Healing this doesn’t mean shaming yourself into “thinking pure thoughts.” It means:

  • Understanding why these connections formed
  • Developing compassion for yourself instead of disgust
  • Working with a trauma-informed therapist or coach to slowly rewire these associations
  • Learning what healthy sexuality actually feels like (not what trauma taught you it was)

This is exactly the kind of thing I help clients work through in coaching—not by shaming them, but by helping them understand their nervous system and develop new, healthier patterns.


Want Deeper Understanding?

In Healing What Hides in the Shadows, you’ll find:

✓ How trauma rewires your relationship with sexuality
✓ Body-based practices for nervous system regulation
✓ Tools for separating trauma responses from authentic desire
✓ Private healing—no disclosure required

Get Your Copy →


Question 5: “Can I ever have a healthy relationship with sexuality after this?”

Yes.

Not easily. Not quickly. Not without doing the work. But yes.

I’m not going to lie to you and say it’s simple. Sexual trauma rewires how you relate to your body, to intimacy, to vulnerability, to pleasure. Healing that takes time.

But here’s what I’ve seen, both in my own journey and in working with survivors:

Healthy sexuality after trauma is possible when:

You’ve learned to feel safe in your own body again. (This is the foundation of everything—see Why Your Body Hasn’t Gotten the Memo That You’re Safe)

You’ve separated what trauma taught you about sex from what sex can actually be. Trauma taught you that sexuality is about power, violation, and shame. Healing teaches you it can be about connection, mutual pleasure, and safety.

You’ve found ways to stay present instead of dissociating. Intimacy requires being in your body, not floating above it.

You’ve developed the ability to communicate needs and boundaries. And to trust that those boundaries will be respected.

You’ve addressed the shame. Not eliminated it entirely (we’re human), but taken away its power to control you.

From a faith perspective, I believe God’s design for sexuality is beautiful—mutual, honoring, intimate, safe. Trauma distorted that design. Healing is about reclaiming what was always meant to be life-giving, not life-taking.


 Hope for healthy sexuality after sexual trauma - healing is possible for survivors


Question 6: “What do I do if I can’t stop the cycle on my own?”

First, there’s no shame in needing help. You didn’t create this problem—trauma did. And trying to heal trauma-related sexual struggles alone is like trying to perform surgery on yourself. Technically possible, but why would you?

Here’s what actually helps:

Work with a trauma-informed therapist. Not just any therapist—one who understands both sexual trauma and compulsive sexual behavior. They exist, and they won’t judge you.

Address the underlying trauma. You can’t heal the coping mechanism without healing what you’re coping with. The porn (or whatever behavior you’re struggling with) is the symptom, not the disease.

Learn nervous system regulation. When you can manage overwhelming emotions without needing to escape into sexuality, the compulsion loses its power. In Healing What Hides in the Shadows, I walk through specific body-based techniques for this.

Find healthy ways to meet the needs porn was meeting.

  • Control? Develop healthy boundaries in your life
  • Emotional management? Learn grounding and regulation skills
  • Avoiding intimacy? Work on building safe relationships
  • Connection? Build genuine community

Get support from someone who gets it. Whether that’s a support group, a coach who specializes in trauma recovery, or trusted friends who won’t shame you. Secrets keep you sick. Connection heals.

This is part of what I do in my coaching practice—helping survivors understand the “why” behind their behaviors and developing practical tools to create new patterns. Not through shame or willpower, but through understanding your nervous system and meeting your actual needs in healthier ways.


The Bottom Line

If you’re struggling with porn, with compulsive sexual behavior, with arousal that confuses and shames you—you’re not uniquely broken. You’re responding to trauma in a way that made sense to your survival brain, even if it’s not serving you now.

Healing doesn’t start with shame. It starts with understanding.

And understanding starts with being willing to ask the questions nobody else will talk about.

So here we are, talking about it.

“You’re not alone. You’re not too far gone. And yes, there is hope for something better than this cycle of shame and secrecy.”


Ready to Break the Cycle?

You don’t have to figure this out alone.

Read the Book
Healing What Hides in the Shadows addresses sexuality after trauma with compassion and practical tools.
Get the Book →

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One-on-one coaching for trauma survivors navigating sexuality, shame, and healing.
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Join the conversation about trauma, sexuality, and healing—without shame.
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Continue the Series:

Part 1: The Questions You’re Afraid to Ask About Your Body – Arousal during abuse, body memories, dissociation, and feeling broken

Part 3: Identity After Trauma – Sexual orientation, gender confusion, and finding yourself again

 

The Truth About Your Worth: Why Shame Isn’t Yours to Carry

The Truth About Your Worth: Why Shame Isn’t Yours to Carry

I want you to know something that took me years to learn: Your worth was never on the table.

What happened to you didn’t diminish it, can’t destroy it, and will never define it. You were born worthy, you remained worthy through everything that happened, and you’re worthy right now as you read this.

Not because of what you do or don’t do, but simply because you exist.

As a Christian, I believe this worth is stamped into your very being by the Creator of the universe—you were made in God’s image (Genesis 1:27). But whether or not you share my faith, the truth remains: that’s not something anyone can take from you—not even the person who hurt you.

But if you’ve experienced trauma, especially sexual trauma, you probably don’t feel that way. You probably carry a weight of shame so heavy it’s become part of how you see yourself. And you’ve likely spent years believing that shame is telling you the truth about who you are.

It’s not.

Let me show you why.

Dramatic sunlight breaking through dark storm clouds over water representing truth overcoming shame and hope in trauma recovery

The Difference Between Guilt and Shame

Before we go further, we need to understand what shame actually is—because it’s not the same as guilt, even though we often use the words interchangeably.

Guilt says: “I did something bad.”
Shame says: “I am bad.”

Guilt is about behavior. Shame is about identity.

Researcher Dr. Brené Brown has spent decades studying shame, and she explains it this way: “Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.”

When you experience trauma—especially sexual abuse—shame doesn’t just attach itself to what happened. It attaches itself to you. It becomes woven into how you see yourself.

And here’s what makes trauma-based shame so insidious: you didn’t do anything wrong, but your brain interpreted what happened as evidence that something is fundamentally wrong with you.

Why Trauma Creates Shame (Even When It Shouldn’t)

Here’s what happened in your brain during trauma:

When something terrible happens to us, especially as children, our brains try to make sense of it. And children’s brains—even teenage brains—don’t have the capacity to understand that adults can be dangerous, that people who should protect us can hurt us, that the world isn’t always safe.

So instead, your brain came to a different conclusion: “This must be happening because of something about me.”

This is called internalization. And it’s how trauma creates shame.

You might have thought:

  • “If I were better, this wouldn’t have happened.”
  • “If I had fought harder, said no louder, been smarter…”
  • “There must be something about me that made this happen.”
  • “I’m dirty now. Damaged. Less than.”

These beliefs weren’t true then, and they’re not true now. But trauma literally changes how your brain processes information about yourself and the world.

Neuroscientist Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, explains that trauma survivors often develop what he calls a “negative self-concept”—a deeply ingrained belief that they are fundamentally flawed or bad. This isn’t a choice. It’s a neurological adaptation your brain made to try to protect you from future harm.

Your brain essentially decided: “If I can figure out what’s wrong with me and fix it, maybe I can prevent this from happening again.”

But you can’t fix what was never broken.

The Shame You Feel Is Not Who You Are

Let me say this clearly: The shame you feel is not who you are.

It’s something that attached itself to you during trauma, like smoke clinging to clothes after a fire.

You are not dirty.
You are not damaged.
You are not less than.
You are not defined by what someone did to you.

The shame you carry belongs to the person who chose to hurt you. They should feel ashamed of their actions. You? You should feel proud that you survived, that you’re seeking healing, that you’re brave enough to read these words.

Scripture speaks to this truth: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). But even if that’s not your faith background, the principle stands—condemnation doesn’t belong on you. The shame was never yours to carry.

But I know that intellectually understanding this and actually feeling it are two very different things.

So let’s talk about why shame feels so real—and how to start releasing it.

What Shame Does to Your Nervous System

Shame isn’t just an emotion. It’s a full-body experience that hijacks your nervous system.

When shame is activated, your body goes into what’s called a “collapse” state. This is one of the nervous system’s responses to threat—similar to how an animal “plays dead” when it can’t fight or flee.

In this collapsed state:

  • Your chest feels tight
  • Your shoulders curl inward
  • You want to hide or disappear
  • You feel small and powerless
  • Your gaze drops to the floor
  • You might struggle to speak or defend yourself

This is why shame is so paralyzing. It literally shuts down the parts of your brain responsible for problem-solving, self-advocacy, and connection.

Shame researcher Dr. June Tangney has found that shame is associated with:

  • Increased cortisol (stress hormone)
  • Decreased serotonin (mood regulation)
  • Hyperactivation of the threat-detection system in the brain
  • Reduced activity in areas responsible for empathy and self-compassion

In other words, shame makes your body believe you’re in danger—from yourself.

And here’s the cruelest part: shame thrives in isolation. The more you hide it, the stronger it gets.

This is the opposite of how we were designed to live. We were created for connection, for being fully known and fully loved. Shame tries to convince us that being known means being rejected—but that’s the lie we need to break.

Hands forming heart shape at sunset symbolizing self-compassion and worth for trauma survivors releasing shame

Shame Cannot Survive Being Seen With Compassion

Here’s what I know after years of my own healing work and walking alongside other survivors: shame cannot survive being seen with compassion.

Brené Brown’s research confirms this. She found that shame needs three things to grow:

  1. Secrecy
  2. Silence
  3. Judgment

But shame withers in the presence of:

  1. Speaking about it
  2. Connection with safe people
  3. Compassion (especially self-compassion)

Every time you name shame (“That’s shame talking”), every time you counter its lies with truth, every time you treat yourself with kindness instead of criticism—you’re winning.

This isn’t just a nice idea. This is neuroscience. And it echoes what Scripture has always said: “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Speaking truth—about what happened, about who you really are—breaks shame’s power.

When you practice self-compassion, you activate your brain’s caregiving system—the same neural pathways that light up when a mother comforts a child. This system releases oxytocin and endorphins, which calm your nervous system and counteract the stress response that shame triggers.

Dr. Kristin Neff, a leading researcher on self-compassion, has found that self-compassion is one of the most powerful predictors of mental health and resilience—even more than self-esteem.

Why? Because self-esteem says, “I’m worthy when I succeed, when I’m good enough, when I meet certain standards.”

Self-compassion says, “I’m worthy because I’m human. Period.”

Or as I see it: I’m worthy because I’m made by God, for God, and deeply loved by God—regardless of what I do or what’s been done to me.

How to Start Releasing Shame

If you’ve been carrying shame for years—maybe decades—releasing it won’t happen overnight. But it will happen. Here’s how to start:

  1. Name It When You Notice It

Shame operates in the shadows. The simple act of naming it brings it into the light.

When you notice that familiar feeling—the tightness in your chest, the urge to hide, the internal voice saying you’re bad or wrong—pause and say (out loud or in your head):

“That’s shame talking.”

This creates distance between you and the shame. It reminds you that shame is something you’re experiencing, not something you are.

  1. Question the Story Shame Is Telling

Shame speaks in absolutes:

  • “You’re disgusting.”
  • “No one would love you if they knew.”
  • “You’ll never be normal.”

When you notice these thoughts, ask:

  • “Is this actually true, or is this shame talking?”
  • “Would I say this to someone I love who went through the same thing?”
  • “What would I tell my younger self if I could go back?”

Often, the compassion you can extend to others is the same compassion you deserve to give yourself.

I also ask: “Is this what God says about me, or is this what shame says?” Because those two voices sound very different. God’s voice brings conviction when needed, but never condemnation. Shame only condemns.

  1. Practice the Hand-on-Heart Exercise

This is one of the most powerful tools from my book Healing What Hides in the Shadows, and it’s backed by research on self-compassion and nervous system regulation.

Take a moment right now. Put your hand on your heart—feel the warmth of your own touch, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

And say out loud or silently:

“The shame I feel is not who I am. I am worthy of love and respect, exactly as I am.”

For those with faith, you might add: “God made me, knows me, and loves me—shame doesn’t get to define me.”

This isn’t just a nice thought. This is your nervous system learning that you are safe, that you are not the threat, that you can be your own source of comfort.

Do this daily. Do it when shame feels overwhelming. Do it until your body starts to believe it.

  1. Share Your Shame With a Safe Person

Remember: shame needs secrecy to survive. Speaking about it—even just saying “I’m struggling with shame today”—begins to break its power.

You don’t have to tell your whole story. You don’t have to share details. But finding even one person who can hear “I carry a lot of shame” and respond with compassion changes everything.

If you’re not ready to speak to another person, write it down. Journal about it. Name the specific shame beliefs you carry and then write what you would say to a friend who believed those same lies.

Or bring it to God in prayer. He already knows. But speaking it out loud—admitting “I feel ashamed”—invites His compassion into that wounded place.

  1. Reconnect With Your Body

Shame makes us want to disconnect from our bodies—especially if the trauma was sexual. But your body is not the enemy. Your body is where healing happens.

God designed your body to heal, to release what’s trapped, to return to safety. Honoring that design through gentle movement helps shame leave your body, not just your mind.

Gentle movement, breathwork, and somatic practices help release shame that’s stored physically. This might look like:

  • Gentle stretching or yoga
  • Walking in nature
  • Dancing alone in your room
  • Deep breathing exercises
  • Progressive muscle relaxation

These practices help your nervous system move out of the shame-induced collapse state and into a state of safety and connection.

Illuminated brain showing neural pathways and neuroplasticity representing how trauma survivors can rewire shame responses through healing

The Neuroscience of Worth

Here’s something that might surprise you: Your brain doesn’t naturally generate shame.

Newborn babies don’t feel shame. Toddlers don’t experience it. Shame is learned—usually through experiences where we were made to feel that something fundamental about us is wrong or bad.

But that means shame can also be unlearned.

Neuroscientist Dr. Rick Hanson talks about “experience-dependent neuroplasticity”—the brain’s ability to rewire itself based on repeated experiences. Every time you practice self-compassion, every time you counter shame with truth, every time you choose kindness over criticism, you’re literally building new neural pathways.

The Bible calls this “renewing your mind” (Romans 12:2). Neuroscience calls it neuroplasticity. Either way, the truth is the same: your brain can change. Your thoughts can be transformed. The lies can be replaced with truth.

Your brain is learning: “I am safe. I am worthy. I am enough.”

This isn’t positive thinking. This is brain change. This is partnering with how God designed your nervous system to heal.

And research shows it works. Studies on trauma survivors who practice self-compassion show:

  • Reduced symptoms of PTSD
  • Lower levels of depression and anxiety
  • Improved relationships
  • Greater resilience
  • Increased sense of self-worth

You are not rewiring your brain to believe a lie. You’re rewiring it to recognize a truth that trauma tried to hide from you.

What If I Can’t Believe It Yet?

If you read all of this and still think, “That might be true for other people, but not for me”—I get it. I’ve been there.

You don’t have to believe it fully right now. You just have to be willing to consider the possibility that it might be true.

Start here:

“What if the shame I feel isn’t the truth about who I am? What if it’s just something that happened to me, not something that defines me?”

You don’t have to have the answer. You just have to hold the question.

And then keep showing up for yourself. Keep practicing the hand-on-heart exercise even when it feels awkward. Keep naming shame when you notice it. Keep reaching for compassion even when criticism feels more familiar.

Because here’s what I’ve learned both personally and professionally: healing doesn’t require you to believe you’re worthy before you start. Healing is what teaches you that you were worthy all along.

God has been waiting to show you what He’s always known: you are His, you are loved, and you are worth fighting for.

The Truth Shame Never Wanted You to Discover

Shame has been lying to you for so long, you might have forgotten what the truth actually sounds like.

So let me remind you:

You are not what happened to you.

You are not the trauma. You are not the abuse. You are not the worst thing that was ever done to you.

You are the person who survived.
You are the person brave enough to seek healing.
You are the person reading these words right now because some part of you—maybe buried deep, maybe barely audible—still believes that healing is possible.

That part of you is right.

The shame you carry was never yours. It was placed on you by someone who hurt you, reinforced by a brain trying to make sense of the incomprehensible, and sustained by a culture that doesn’t know how to talk about trauma.

But it doesn’t belong to you.

And you don’t have to carry it anymore.

From a faith perspective, here’s what I hold onto: When shame whispers “You’re dirty,” God says “I’ve washed you clean” (1 Corinthians 6:11). When shame says “You’re worthless,” God says “You’re worth the life of My Son” (Romans 5:8). When shame tells you “You’re too broken to fix,” God says “I’m making all things new” (Revelation 21:5).

This doesn’t bypass the pain. It doesn’t minimize the trauma. It doesn’t mean healing is instant or easy.

But it does mean this: the God who created you knows your worth, even when shame tries to convince you otherwise.

Your Next Steps

Releasing shame is a process, not a one-time event. But every step you take matters.

Today:

  • Practice the hand-on-heart exercise
  • Write down one shame belief and counter it with truth
  • Reach out to one safe person (or to God in prayer)

This week:

  • Notice when shame shows up and name it
  • Practice self-compassion when shame feels overwhelming
  • Consider reading Healing What Hides in the Shadows for deeper tools and exercises

This month:

  • Find a trauma-informed therapist or coach
  • Join a support group for survivors
  • Commit to treating yourself with the same kindness you’d show someone you love

You deserve to live free from shame. Not because you’ve earned it or proven yourself, but because you exist. Because you were made with purpose, by a God who doesn’t make mistakes, who sees you fully and loves you completely.

That’s not just a nice thought.

That’s the truth shame never wanted you to discover.

If you’re ready to dive deeper into healing from trauma and releasing shame, my book “Healing What Hides in the Shadows” offers 30 chapters of practical tools, body-based exercises, and trauma-informed guidance for your private healing journey. Learn more at HealingWhatHidesInTheShadows.com

For personalized support in your healing journey, visit CoachAgenna.com to learn about trauma-informed coaching services.

 

Sexual Trauma and Your Body: The Questions Survivors Are Afraid to Ask

Sexual Trauma and Your Body: The Questions Survivors Are Afraid to Ask

Part 1 of the “Questions Nobody Asks Out Loud” Series

There are questions about sexual trauma you Google at 2am. Questions you delete from your search history. Questions that make you feel like maybe you’re the only person twisted enough to even wonder about them.

Spoiler alert: you’re not.

As a coach who works with trauma survivors—and as someone who’s walked this road myself—I’ve heard them all. And I’m going to answer the ones nobody talks about, starting with the questions about your body that make you feel the most shame.

Because here’s the thing: your questions aren’t evidence that you’re broken. They’re evidence that you’re human, you’re hurting, and you’re trying to make sense of something that never should have happened.

In this post, I’m answering five questions that keep trauma survivors up at night—the ones you’re too ashamed to ask your therapist, too afraid to Google from your work computer, too convinced make you uniquely broken.

Spoiler: none of them do.


In This Post:

  • Why physical arousal during abuse is NOT consent
  • What body memories are and why they’re so powerful
  • Why dissociation happens during wanted intimacy
  • The truth about being “damaged goods” (you’re not)
  • Where to get help when you’re ready

The Questions Nobody Asks (But Everyone Wonders)

Question 1: “Is it normal that I felt physical pleasure during the abuse?”

Yes. And I need you to hear this: physical arousal is not consent. It’s not participation. It’s not proof you wanted it.

Your body has automatic responses—like your knee jerking when the doctor taps it, or your mouth watering when you smell food. Sexual arousal is the same kind of automatic response. It’s your nervous system doing what it’s designed to do when certain nerve endings are stimulated.

Abusers sometimes deliberately trigger arousal because it creates exactly this confusion and shame. They know it will make you less likely to tell, more likely to blame yourself, more convinced that somehow you’re complicit in your own violation.

But listen: arousal is a physiological response, not a moral choice. Your body responding doesn’t mean your soul agreed. It doesn’t make you guilty. It makes you human with a functioning nervous system that couldn’t tell the difference between wanted and unwanted touch in that moment.

“Arousal is a physiological response, not a moral choice. Your body responding doesn’t mean your soul agreed.”

The shame you feel about this? That belongs to the person who hurt you, not to you.


Understanding body responses to sexual trauma and abuse


Question 2: “Why Does Sexual Trauma Make Me Feel Nauseous During Intimacy?”

Because your body remembers what your mind might want to forget.

When someone violated you, your nervous system recorded every detail—not just what happened, but what it felt like in your body. The vulnerability of being touched. The powerlessness. The fear. All of that got stored as “DANGER.”

Now, even in safe situations with people you love and trust, your body might be screaming “ABORT MISSION” because intimacy triggers those old danger signals. Your nervous system can’t always tell the difference between then and now, wanted and unwanted, and safe and unsafe.

This shows up as:

  • Nausea or stomach pain
  • Headaches or muscle tension
  • Going numb or feeling disconnected
  • Panic attacks
  • Suddenly feeling angry or afraid
  • Your mind going completely blank

“This isn’t rejection of your partner. It’s your body trying to protect you from something that already happened.”

The good news? Your nervous system can learn new associations. It just takes time, patience, and often some specific nervous system work to teach your body that intimacy can be safe.

(This is exactly the kind of thing I work on with coaching clients—helping your body update its threat detection system.)

Read more: Why Your Body Hasn’t Gotten the Memo That You’re Safe


Question 3: “Can my body actually ‘remember’ trauma even if my mind doesn’t?”

Absolutely yes.

Dr. Bessel van der Kolk wrote an entire book about this called The Body Keeps the Score. Trauma memories don’t get stored the same way regular memories do. They get fragmented and scattered throughout your brain and body.

Your conscious mind might have no clear memory of what happened—especially if the trauma occurred when you were very young, or if your brain protected you by blocking it out. But your body? Your body kept the receipt.

This is why you might:

  • Feel inexplicably anxious in certain situations
  • Have physical pain with no medical explanation
  • React intensely to specific smells, sounds, or touches
  • Feel unsafe for “no reason”
  • Dissociate or disconnect from your body

These aren’t random. They’re your body’s way of saying, “Hey, something about this situation reminds me of danger, even if you don’t consciously remember why.”

And before you ask—yes, this is real. No, you’re not making it up. Your body doesn’t lie about this stuff.


Body memories and trauma recovery for sexual abuse survivors


Want to Go Deeper?

In Healing What Hides in the Shadows, I walk through:

✓ Comprehensive body-based healing practices
✓ Nervous system regulation techniques you can do privately
✓ Step-by-step tools for reclaiming your body after trauma
✓ No pressure to disclose your story to anyone

Get Your Copy →


Question 4: “Why do I dissociate during sex even though I WANT to be present?”

Because dissociation was your superpower during the abuse, and your brain hasn’t gotten the memo that you don’t need it anymore.

When trauma was happening and you couldn’t fight or flee, your brain did something brilliant: it helped you leave. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. You went somewhere else. You floated near the ceiling. You imagined you were anywhere but in your body experiencing what was happening.

This is called dissociation, and it literally saved your sanity.

The problem? Your brain learned this strategy so well that now it automatically deploys it whenever intimacy happens—even wanted, safe intimacy. The second things get vulnerable or intense, your brain goes, “Oh! I know this drill!” and checks you out of your body.

You’re not choosing this. You’re not broken. Your brain is still running an old protection program that it hasn’t updated yet.

Learning to stay present during intimacy is possible, but it’s gradual work. It requires:

  • Going slow (like, painfully slow)
  • Communicating with your partner about what’s happening
  • Grounding techniques to keep you in your body
  • Sometimes working with a trauma-informed therapist or coach who can help you rewire these automatic responses

In my coaching work, I help clients develop specific practices to gently train their nervous system to stay present during vulnerability. It’s not about forcing yourself to “get over it.” It’s about teaching your body that the rules have changed.

One client recently told me, “I finally understand why my body reacts this way. For the first time in 15 years, I don’t feel broken—I feel like I’m healing.”

Related reading: Trauma, Sleep, and the Body That Won’t Rest


Hope and healing after sexual trauma - resources for survivors


Question 5: “Does this make me damaged goods?”

No. Full stop. End of sentence.

But I know you don’t believe me yet, so let me say it differently:

What happened to you added chapters to your story. It didn’t define the whole book.

Yes, sexual trauma changes you. It reorganizes your nervous system. It affects how you see the world, how you relate to people, how you experience your own body. That’s real, and we’re not going to pretend it’s not.

But “changed” doesn’t mean “ruined.” “Affected” doesn’t mean “destroyed.”

I’ve worked with countless survivors who thought they were too broken for healthy relationships, good jobs, normal lives, genuine joy. And then I watched them heal. Not because they went back to who they were before (you can’t), but because they discovered who they could become after.

“You’re not damaged goods. You’re a person who survived something terrible and is still here, still trying, still hoping things can get better. And that? That’s not damaged. That’s strong as hell.”

You’re not damaged goods. You’re a person who survived something terrible and is still here, still trying, still hoping things can get better.

And that? That’s not damaged. That’s strong as hell.


Why These Questions Matter

Every time you ask a question you’re afraid to ask, you’re taking back a little piece of power. You’re refusing to let shame keep you isolated and confused.

These questions—about arousal, about body memories, about dissociation, about whether you’re too broken—they’re not signs of weakness. They’re signs you’re ready to stop suffering alone.

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in these questions about sexual trauma, I want you to know: healing is possible. You don’t have to stay stuck in confusion and shame. You don’t have to keep Googling at 2am wondering if you’re the only one.


Ready to Stop Googling at 2am?

If you’re recognizing yourself in these questions, you don’t have to figure this out alone.

Three ways I can help:

📖 Read the Book
Healing What Hides in the Shadows gives you comprehensive, body-based tools for private healing—no therapist required, no disclosure pressure.

Get the Book →

💬 Work With Me
One-on-one coaching for personalized support as you navigate these exact questions and develop tools for your specific situation.

Learn About Coaching →

📧 Stay Connected
Join my email list for more honest conversations about trauma, healing, and the questions nobody else is answering.

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Continue the Series:

Part 2: Let’s Talk About What Nobody Talks About—Porn, shame, and the search for control after trauma

Part 3: Identity After Trauma—Sexual orientation, gender questions, and finding yourself again


Related Posts:


One in three girls and one in six boys experience sexual abuse before age 18. Most never talk about these questions out loud. But they’re all thinking of them.

You’re not alone. Your questions deserve answers. And healing is possible.