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“Size Gaslighting: When Others Police Your Own Body Knowledge”

by | Nov 4, 2025 | Uncategorized

This is Part 4 of the “Weight of Words” series. Read Part 1 | Part 2: The Whisper Test | Part 3: The Compliment That Cuts

I’m an XL or 1X, depending on the brand and cut.

This isn’t speculation. I know this because I live in this body. Dressing it every single day means I know what fits and what doesn’t. I know what size I reach for when shopping, what size I order online, what size I need to feel comfortable and confident.

So you can imagine my surprise when I mentioned my size recently and someone immediately said: “No you’re not. You’re not that big. You’re definitely not an XL.”

As if they knew my body better than I do.

As if my lived experience of getting dressed every morning was somehow incorrect.

As if their perception of my body trumped my actual knowledge of what fits it.

This is what I call size gaslighting, and it’s more common than you think.

When “Compliments” Become Invalidation

Usually, size gaslighting comes disguised as a compliment. “You’re not THAT size – you carry it well!” or “Girl, you’re definitely not an XL!” or “You don’t look like you wear that size at all!”

Here’s what makes it so insidious: the person saying it genuinely thinks they’re being nice. They think they’re making you feel better. They think they’re giving you a compliment by denying the reality of your body.

What they’re actually doing is telling you that your size is something to be ashamed of – so shameful that they can’t even accept it’s true.

Think about it. When was the last time someone said “You’re not a small!” with that same emphatic reassurance? When did anyone ever protest “No way, you’re definitely not petite!”?

We don’t gaslight people about small sizes. We don’t argue with them. We don’t feel the need to “correct” them or “reassure” them.

We only do this with sizes we’ve decided are unacceptable.

The Hidden Messages in Size Denial

Here’s what this communication actually says:

I like you too much to admit you wear an “undesirable” size. I need to believe you’re smaller than you are so I can continue to approve of you. Your size is so problematic that I literally can’t accept it as reality. You should be ashamed to claim that size, so I’m going to deny it for you.

And perhaps most damaging: Your own knowledge of your body is less valid than my perception of it.

This isn’t just about hurt feelings. This is about invalidation.

The Pattern of Invalidation

In my work with trauma survivors, I see this pattern everywhere: people being told their own experience isn’t real, isn’t valid, isn’t what they think it is. Being told “that didn’t happen that way” or “you’re remembering it wrong” or “it wasn’t that bad.”

When you tell someone they don’t wear the size they know they wear, you’re doing the same thing. Invalidating their lived experience means telling them they can’t trust their own knowledge of their own body.

Research on body image and self-perception shows that this kind of external invalidation contributes to distorted body image and undermines self-trust.

A bizarre situation emerges where someone can’t win.

If I say I’m an XL and you tell me I’m not, what am I supposed to do with that?

The Impossible Position

Should I argue with you about my own body? Should I prove it by showing you tags? Should I feel grateful that you’re “protecting” me from the truth of my own size?

Or should I just learn to stay quiet about my body entirely, because apparently my accurate assessment of it makes people uncomfortable?

Here’s what I think is really happening:

When someone tells you “you’re not that size,” what they’re really saying is: “I can’t reconcile the size you’re telling me with the person I see in front of me – because I’ve been taught that people who wear that size are supposed to be less worthy, less attractive, less acceptable than you are.”

They like you. They value you. They think you look good.

And they can’t hold all of that alongside the “shameful” size you’ve just claimed.

Rewriting Reality Instead of Examining Bias

So instead of examining their own biases about what certain sizes are “supposed” to look like or what people who wear them are “supposed” to be worth, they just… deny your reality.

They rewrite your body to fit their worldview instead of adjusting their worldview to include bodies like yours at sizes like yours.

It’s exhausting.

Because now I’m not just navigating the world in my body – I’m managing other people’s discomfort with what size that body happens to be.

I’ve also noticed this happens in professional settings where someone’s size becomes almost… inconvenient. Where acknowledging the reality of someone’s body might mean acknowledging that your systems, your inventory, your spaces don’t actually include them. So it’s easier to just insist they’re not really that size.

“You’re not an XL!” becomes a way to avoid saying “We don’t carry your size.”

“You don’t look like you wear that!” becomes a way to avoid admitting “We didn’t think about bodies like yours when we planned this.”

The Real Impact of Size Gaslighting

But here’s what I need you to understand:

When you tell me I’m not the size I know I am, you’re not making me feel better. You’re making me feel invisible.

You’re telling me that my reality is negotiable. That my body is up for debate. That I can’t be trusted to know basic facts about my own physical existence.

You’re also reinforcing the idea that certain sizes are so terrible that they can’t be acknowledged – even when they’re literally the truth.

What If We Just Believed People?

What if we just… believed people about their own bodies?

What if when someone says “I’m an XL,” we just accept that as the neutral fact it is?

What if we didn’t treat certain sizes like confessions that need to be argued with or reassured away?

What if we understood that every size is just a size – a measurement, a number, a piece of information about what cut of fabric fits a particular body – and nothing more?

I promise you: I know what size I wear. I’ve known for years. Your denial of it doesn’t change the reality. It just makes me feel like I’m living in a world where even basic facts about my body are considered too shameful to acknowledge.

The Long-Term Consequences

Here’s the thing about gaslighting – even the well-intentioned kind:

It teaches people they can’t trust themselves. It teaches them their reality is less valid than someone else’s perception. It teaches them that certain truths about themselves are so unacceptable that even they shouldn’t speak them out loud.

And after years of this, people stop talking about their bodies at all. They stop advocating for what they need. They stop asking for accommodations. They stop existing fully in spaces because they’ve learned that the truth of their body makes others uncomfortable.

How to Respond When Someone Shares Their Size

So the next time someone tells you their size, believe them.

Don’t argue. Don’t “reassure” them. Don’t tell them they’re wrong about their own body.

Just… believe them.

It’s not a confession. It’s not a problem to be solved. It’s not something that needs your input or correction.

It’s just information. Information they’re sharing because it’s relevant, necessary, or simply true.

And they deserve to have that truth acknowledged – not debated, not denied, not dismissed.

Standing in Your Truth

Because here’s what I know for certain:

I am valuable beyond measure.

Not at the size you think I should be. Not at the size you’re comfortable acknowledging. Not when I’m small enough that you don’t have to whisper about it.

Right now. At this size. The one I actually am.

Valuable beyond measure.

And I don’t need your permission – or your denial – to know it.

You are valuable beyond measure – and you know your own body better than anyone else ever will.

CONTINUE THE SERIES:

The Compliment That Cuts: When ‘You Look Great’ Actually Means ‘You’re Finally Acceptable’

by | Nov 3, 2025 | Body Shame, Uncategorized

This is Part 3 of the “Weight of Words” series. Read Part 1 | Read Part 2: The Whisper Test

“You look amazing! Have you lost weight?”

These words tumble out with smiles, with enthusiasm, with genuine belief that we’re making someone’s day.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what weight loss compliments actually communicate – and why they might not be the kindness we think they are.

The hidden message beneath the praise? You look better now than you did before. Your previous body needed improvement. I’ve been watching your body and judging it. You’re finally acceptable.

When Compliments Become Chains

Recently, I watched this dynamic play out with someone I know. She’d lost a significant amount of weight, and people couldn’t stop complimenting her. “You look so good!” “You must feel so much better!” “Good for you!”

What they didn’t know was devastating. She was barely eating. Hours at the gym became obsessive rituals that weren’t healthy. The weight loss wasn’t a triumph – it was a symptom of something breaking inside her.

Yet everyone kept praising her for it. Every compliment made it harder for her to stop, harder to admit she needed help, harder to see that what everyone celebrated was actually harming her.

Those compliments weren’t kind. They were chains.

The Hidden Crisis Behind Weight Loss

Here’s what I’ve learned working with people through trauma and recovery: Weight loss doesn’t always mean someone is thriving. Sometimes it means they’re in crisis.

Maybe they lost weight because:

  • Anxiety has made eating impossible
  • Devastating grief has consumed their appetite
  • An illness no one knows about yet is ravaging their body
  • They’re trapped in an abusive situation
  • They’re struggling with an eating disorder
  • Stress has made self-care feel impossible
  • Medication has killed their appetite as a side effect
  • Depression has made food tasteless and eating feel pointless

Every time we celebrate weight loss without knowing the story behind it, we risk celebrating someone’s suffering.

Research on eating disorders and body image shows that weight loss compliments can reinforce disordered eating patterns and delay people from seeking help.

What We’re Really Saying

Even when weight loss IS intentional and healthy, consider what we’re really communicating when we make it the first thing we comment on, the biggest compliment we can give, the most important change we notice about someone.

The underlying message becomes clear: Your body is the most interesting thing about you. Your worth is tied to your size. The most impressive thing you can do is become smaller.

A client once shared a powerful story with me. She’d gotten a significant promotion at work, published an article she was proud of, and celebrated her tenth wedding anniversary – all in the same month she lost some weight.

Guess which one everyone commented on?

“You’ve lost weight! You look fantastic!”

Not “Congratulations on your promotion.” Not “I loved your article.” Not “Ten years – that’s wonderful!”

Just: You’re smaller now, and that’s the most valuable thing you could be.

She said it made her feel invisible even as people were looking right at her.

The Impact on Everyone

Here’s something we don’t talk about enough: these compliments hurt thin people too.

That person who’s always been naturally slender? They hear the subtext loud and clear. If they ever gain weight, they’ll lose your approval. Their worth is conditional on staying small. You’re watching, measuring, judging.

For anyone who’s struggled with an eating disorder, your weight-loss compliments can be triggering – even when you’re talking about someone else. Even when you mean well.

When someone is thin because of illness, grief, or stress, your comments about how “lucky” they are to be that size feel cruel.

A Different Approach to Compliments

So what do we say instead?

What if we just said “You look great” without the weight commentary? What if we commented on someone’s energy, their smile, their confidence, their accomplishments?

What if we asked “How are you doing?” instead of “Have you lost weight?”

What if we remembered that we have no idea what’s happening in someone’s life, and that their body size is the least interesting thing about them?

The Truth About Bodies and Worth

Here’s the truth: Almost every body you encounter is either “too much” or “not enough” in someone’s eyes.

Too big. Too small. Too curvy. Too straight. Too soft. Too muscular. Too short. Too tall.

We’re all failing someone’s standard. We’re all falling short of some imaginary ideal.

So maybe – just maybe – we could stop treating body changes like they’re the ultimate achievement or the worst tragedy.

Maybe we could save our enthusiasm for the things that actually matter: how someone treats people, what they’re creating, how they’re growing, what they’re overcoming, who they’re becoming.

What Really Matters

Your body can change a hundred times in your life. Your worth doesn’t.

That person in the mirror? Valuable beyond measure at every size, every shape, every stage.

The compliments that truly build people up are the ones that see past their body to who they actually are.

Everything else? It’s just noise disguised as kindness.

And sometimes the kindest thing we can do is just… stop commenting on bodies altogether.

You are valuable beyond measure – not because of your size, but in spite of what anyone thinks about it.

CONTINUE THE SERIES:

RELATED READING:

 

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

by | Oct 26, 2025 | Body Shame, Uncategorized

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

by | Oct 25, 2025 | Body Shame, Uncategorized

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 coach: Every 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

by | Oct 23, 2025 | Questions Nobody Asks Out Loud Series

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.

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