
What self-care looks like for you may not be what the culture advertises as self-care.
Because the culture certainly has strong opinions on self care, doesn’t it?
People are “supposed” to eat a certain way, not too much, not too little, not too sugary, not too whatever.
People are “supposed” to exercise a certain amount and in a certain way, a certain number of times a week.
People are “supposed” to sleep X many hours a night, in a dark room, with little noise.
People are “supposed” to manage their hygiene in specific, culturally-approved ways.
Trauma throws a wrench into many of these dictates— and many more that I don’t have space to list here.
It’s not that self-care isn’t important to trauma survivors— it assuredly is. Hell, trauma recovery is, basically, self-care.
It’s that self-care for people who have complicated relationships with their body, complicated relationships with the behavior of eating, complicated relationships with rest and silence, and a complicated relationship with the concept of self-care in the first place, may not necessarily look like self-care for the rest of the population.
And that’s to say nothing of physical self-care for survivors who struggle with chronic pain or complicated medical conditions.
Self-care is not, cannot be, a one-size-fits-all concept when it comes to trauma survivors.
For one thing, trauma survivors in recovery are often easing out of periods of deep depression, which may be reflected in their self-care habits or struggles.
I’ve worked with many survivors who experience shame because they struggle to attend to their hygiene in the ways they’re “supposed” to— but the reality is, for survivors in that spot, the name of the game is attending to personal hygiene at all. Not being the poster child for it.
For another thing, many self-care practices and “rules” in our culture can be taken for granted by people who do not have a history of neglect or physical abuse or sexual abuse— but survivors who have had those experiences may struggle enormously with caring for their physical body.
When your body has been a source of shame, or when you believe your appearance has contributed to your vulnerability to predation, self-care habits can be enormously complicated and fraught.
For yet another thing, when night time was when you were most frequently victimized, sleeping in a dark room can be triggering as hell— and when you’re struggling with flashbacks or other intrusive symptoms, silence may not do you any favors in terms of rest or sleep.
And all this is just the tip of the iceberg. Self-care cannot be one-size fits all when it comes to trauma survivors.
So don’t judge yourself based on the “norm” when it comes to self-care.
Your self-care needs are going to be specific to you.
Your self-care needs are going to reflect your experiences, your triggers, and your recovery goals.
I understand: there is a strong wish on the part of many survivors to just be able to do things like self-care “normally.”
But normal is not an option for us.
(Which is actually fine, because most of the time, normal is not all that healthy anyway, even for the “normies.)
Breathe. Blink. Focus.
And get curious about and open to your specific self-care needs— whether or not they resemble everyone (or anyone) else’s.
