Tending the Wounds of Sexual Trauma

Sexual trauma is not merely a wound of the past — it is a rupture in a person’s relationship to self, body, and other. These wounds often linger in the silent terrain of the soma, carried not just in memory but in gesture, breath, and touch. True healing, as John Ryan Haule (2015) suggests in The Love Cure, is not about erasing the event but “restoring the erotic imagination as a mode of connection with oneself and with life.”

This restoration requires an approach that respects the sacredness of boundaries, the intelligence of the body, and the complexity of human desire — without collapsing into pathologization or romanticizing violation. This is especially true when the betrayal has come from those in positions of care or power, as explored in Peter Rutter’s groundbreaking work Sex in the Forbidden Zone (1991).

The Ethics of Betrayal and the Disruption of Erotic Integrity

Sexual trauma, particularly when perpetrated by therapists, clergy, teachers, or other caregivers, violates not only bodily sovereignty but also psychic trust. Rutter (1991) asserts that the most devastating aspect of this kind of betrayal is that it occurs under the guise of safety. The person being harmed often does not have access to their “no” — because the very conditions that allow for a boundary have been strategically dismantled.

“There is no consent where there is unequal power, and where the trusted space is hijacked for personal gratification.” — Rutter, Sex in the Forbidden Zone

This betrayal splits the psyche: one part may still seek connection with the abuser or carry shame, while another becomes hyper-defensive, protective, or numb. Here, Internal Family Systems (IFS)becomes a vital healing path — not as theory, but as a lived, embodied re-integration of these exiled parts.

The Healing Intelligence of the Body

Susan McConnell’s work in Somatic Internal Family Systems Therapyoffers a compassionate framework for working with trauma that lives in the body. Using awareness, breath, resonance, movement, and touch, the therapy allows survivors to slowly differentiate between protector parts, wounded exiles, and the Self — not as a mental construct but as a felt experience.

Survivors often report, “I feel broken,” when in fact, as McConnell notes, they are experiencing the internal disorganization of a system that was overwhelmed. With gentle presence, the body reveals what was frozen, suppressed, or too overwhelming to be known.

Reclaiming Erotic Imagination and Pleasure

A core wound of sexual trauma is the collapse or distortion of one’s erotic nature. Jack Morin, in The Erotic Mind, reminds us that eroticism is not confined to sex. It is the fuel of aliveness, creativity, and connection. Trauma can interrupt this current, but it does not eliminate it.

Healing includes differentiating erotic charge from trauma reenactment, a distinction Haule (2015) insists therapists must master. The survivor must come to know their desire, not as dangerous or shameful, but as sacred. This is not about restoring “function,” but restoring wholeness.

“Erotic healing begins when desire no longer serves survival, but vitality.” — Morin, The Erotic Mind

Consent and Boundaries as Sacred Practices

Consent is not a checkbox. It is a relational practice—moment to moment, embodied, evolving. Dr. Betty Martin’s Wheel of Consentinvites survivors and practitioners alike to explore the nuanced differences between giving, receiving, taking, and allowing.

In trauma healing, these distinctions matter. A survivor may “allow” touch but feel nothing — or feel flooded afterward. Learning to track one’s inner yes/no/maybe is a reclamation of power. Martin’s approach helps restore agency and clarity, especially for those who learned to override their boundaries to stay safe. Let’s illuminate your unique somatic recognition of these together.

The Role of Somatic Coaching in Rebuilding Capacity

Richard Strozzi-Heckler, in The Art of Somatic Coaching, describes trauma recovery as a process of “embodying new declarations” — learning to inhabit a different posture, breath, and presence that aligns with one’s true commitments.

Coaching, in this sense, is not motivational cheerleading. It is body-based transformation. Survivors who begin to reclaim their boundaries, voice, and erotic energy often report a shift in how they stand, breathe, and move through space. This is not metaphor — it’s neuromuscular reality.

Tending the wounds of sexual trauma requires more than talking — it requires listening. Not just to the story, but to the breath, the body, and the erotic self waiting to reawaken. As Haule writes, “The erotic is not dangerous in itself. It is how we meet it — or misuse it — that makes the difference.”

To heal is to reclaim the body’s dignity, the heart’s truth, and the sacredness of boundaries. It is not a return to who one was, but a courageous emergence into who one is becoming — whole, sovereign, and vibrantly alive.

References

• Haule, J. R. (2015). The Love Cure: Therapy Erotic and Sexual. Spring Journal Books.

• Rutter, P. (1991). Sex in the Forbidden Zone: When Therapists, Clergy, Teachers and other Men in Power Betray Women’s Trust. Ballantine Books.

• McConnell, S. (2021). Somatic Internal Family Systems Therapy: Awareness, Breath, Resonance, Movement and Touch in Practice. North Atlantic Books.

• Morin, J. (1995). The Erotic Mind: Unlocking the Inner Sources of Passion and Fulfillment. Harper Perennial.

• Martin, B. (2017). The Art of Giving and Receiving: The Wheel of Consent Workbook. Betty Martin, Inc.

• Strozzi-Heckler, R. (2014). The Art of Somatic Coaching: Embodying Skillful Action, Wisdom, and Compassion. North Atlantic Books.