Embodied Boundaries: Trauma-Informed Acts of Safety, Not Just Rules

By: Shelley McInroy, BetterYou.coach

In This Article

• A Different Way to Think About Boundaries
• Why Setting Boundaries Feels Hard (Especially with Trauma)
• Boundaries as Acts of Safety
• Listening to the Body’s Signal
• How Trauma and the Nervous System Shape Boundaries
• Trauma, Survival, and Embodied Boundaries
• The Language of the Body in Boundaries – Unspoken Messages
• From Victim to Survivor
• Boundaries Are Relational, Not Just Personal
• Practical Embodied Boundary Exercises
• Rituals of Return
• Journal Prompts
• Closing: A Gentle Offering
  • References & Further Reading

“The body says what words cannot.” – Martha Graham, Modern Dancer and Choreographer, 1985 interview.

A Different Way to Think About Boundaries

When people talk about boundaries, it can come across like a set of rules: This is what you will or won’t tolerate; this is what you’ll say yes or no to. We can think of them like painted lines drawn in the sand.

But if you’ve ever tried to hold fast to a boundary you made in your head — only to find yourself overriding it in the moment — you’ll know that boundaries aren’t just about rules. I just did this the other day myself.

Boundaries are about safety, our feelings of internal safety.

If you didn’t feel safe saying no as a child, it may feel almost impossible now. If you were praised for being “easy-going” or “helpful,” then people-pleasing may have become your default. If you’ve lived through trauma, setting a clear boundary may feel threatening — not just uncomfortable, but unsafe.

Boundaries, then, aren’t just a concept we write on paper. They are something we embody. The boundaries we set live in our nervous system, in our voice, in our breath, in our posture, even in our body language. And when we begin to embody the boundaries that we want to set, they stop being rules we fail at and become acts of self-safety we can grow into.

Why Setting Boundaries Feels Hard (Especially with Trauma)

Let’s start with compassion. If boundaries were easy, you wouldn’t be reading this.

They’re hard because:

We’ve been conditioned to please.

As children, many of us learnt that being agreeable, quiet, or helpful kept the peace. That survival strategy often follows us into adulthood. I was one of those children, and am still catching myself wondering why I might have just said, “Sure, no problem!” when it really isn’t an action I can easily put into place. How many times have you heard the statement, “I don’t rock the boat?”

Our nervous system associates safety with compliance.

Saying no can trigger anxiety, guilt, or even panic if our bodies link disagreement with conflict or danger.

We confuse love with sacrifice.

Somewhere along the line, many of us learnt that to be loved, we had to abandon parts of ourselves. Boundaries feel like betrayal — when really, they are acts of honesty.

This isn’t weakness. It’s wiring.

Your body and your nervous system have been working hard to keep you safe, even if the strategies are outdated.

Boundaries as Acts of Safety

So, what if we stopped thinking of boundaries as rules to enforce — and began to see them as acts of safety?

An embodied boundary might look like:

• Taking a breath before you answer a request, instead of reacting automatically.
• Noticing your jaw tighten or your stomach twist — and letting that send a message as to the choice you make.
• Choosing to pause a conversation that feels overwhelming. “Let’s put a pause on this conversation for now.”
• Saying, “I’ll need to think about that,” instead of rushing to agree.

Boundaries are not punishments. They are not walls. They are ways of saying: I want to stay safe enough in myself to remain connected to you. This is the heart of trauma-informed boundary work: safety that supports connection.

That shift — from rules to safety — changes everything.

Listening to the Body’s Signal

Embodiment means we start to listen inwardly.

The body speaks in sensations, not sentences. It might tighten, race, feel suddenly hot, or go quiet. These aren’t random — they’re cues about safety and connection.

Some examples:                                                             

• Tight chest, queasy stomach, or shallow breath → Your body is telling you that, “Something feels off.”
• Clenched jaw, a sudden feeling of feeling very hot. → Your body preparing to defend.
• Sudden tiredness or foggy thinking → A collapse response; your system is overwhelmed.

These sensations are not the problem. They are messengers. Embodiment means treating them as data: gentle indicators of where your edges are.

How Trauma and the Nervous System Shape Boundaries

Drawing from trauma science, boundaries make more sense when we see them through the lens of the nervous system.

You may have read in my earlier blogs on Polyvagal Theory that the body shifts between different states depending on whether we feel safe or threatened. Boundaries are deeply affected by this:

• Ventral vagal (safe, connected): Here, boundaries feel possible. You can say no without panic, yes without self-abandonment.
• Sympathetic (fight/flight): Boundaries may come out as defensiveness, over-explaining, or avoidance.
• Dorsal vagal (freeze): Boundaries may collapse completely. You go numb, say nothing, or later wonder why you didn’t speak up.
• Fawn: Pleasing others, over-apologising, or minimising your needs. Fawning is a survival boundary — not a flaw.

When we understand boundaries this way, we stop shaming ourselves for “failing” and instead ask: What state was my nervous system in? What did my body need to feel safe?

Trauma, Survival, and Embodied Boundaries

I recently attended a two-day conference by Janina Fisher on trauma, and one of her perspectives really resonated with me. It was an important reminder. What we often call “symptoms” are actually survival strategies. The very responses that might frustrate us — people-pleasing, shutting down, overworking, or avoiding conflict — are ingenious adaptations that once kept us safe. We don’t have to view these adaptations as pathological disorders.

This reframes the whole conversation: our “bad boundaries” aren’t signs of weakness. They’re the body’s attempts to maintain connection, protection, or safety that developed into a pattern when safety wasn’t guaranteed.

The journey isn’t about erasing these responses. It’s about understanding them, and then slowly teaching the body new ways of staying safe. That’s why embodiment is so central — because it’s through breath, posture, voice, and movement that we begin to experience safety differently.

The Language of the Body in Boundaries – Unspoken Messages

Boundaries don’t live only in words. They live in the body, and we can think of them as a form of communication. They are learned early, from infancy. Each part of us learned these as part of survival and today, each part of us still participates. I believe that we also read each other’s body patterns and responses:

• Breath — A long exhale tells the body: “It’s safe to choose.” It’s a return to ourselves.
• Posture — The way we sit, stand, or turn our shoulders can signal where our edges are.
• Voice — Not just the words, but the tone, volume, and steadiness of our voice communicates our limits and our belonging.
• Movement — A step back, a pause, even a gentle hand raised can embody the boundary we’re setting.

When we bring these together, boundaries stop being something abstract and become something lived, concrete and alive. They are not just spoken — they are embodied through every breath, gesture, and word. And in embodying them, we begin to experience safety in new ways.

From Victim to Survivor

Another way of looking at this is through the shift from victim to survivor. Trauma can leave us in a posture of helplessness, collapse, or self-blame. Survivorship, however, is marked by empowerment, perspective, and choice.

Boundaries often signal that shift.

• A victimised nervous system says: “I can’t say no. It isn’t safe.”
• A surviving nervous system says: “I can pause. I can choose.”

Each time you notice your body’s signals and honour them, you are making that shift — from helplessness to agency, from silence to truth, from surviving through compliance to surviving through connection.

Boundaries Are Relational, Not Just Personal

A boundary is not just a line you draw in your own mind. It exists in relationship.

Sometimes we frame boundaries as an individual act: me standing firm against the world. But in reality, boundaries are co-regulated. They are shaped by the safety we feel in the presence of others.

When someone responds kindly to your no, your nervous system relaxes. Safety grows.
When someone ignores your no, your body may tighten, collapse, or flare in defence.

This doesn’t mean you can’t have boundaries with unsafe people. But it does mean we hold them differently — with more preparation, more embodiment, and often more support.

Practical Embodied Boundary Exercises

Boundaries don’t begin in the confrontation itself. They begin in small, embodied acts of self-safety. Here are some gentle practices you can try:

1. The Breath-First Pause
   Before you answer, breathe once into your belly and once into your chest. Feel the rise and fall. Then respond. This tiny pause can make the difference between reacting and choosing.

2. Anchor Statements
   Have a few safe, honest phrases ready:
   • “Let me think about that.”
   • “I’ll get back to you.”
   • “I need a moment.”

        These buy you time while your body catches up.

3. Hand on Heart
   When overwhelmed, place your hand on your chest and breathe. This simple gesture can signal safety to your nervous system and help you ground before speaking.

4. Movement as Boundary
   Boundaries are physical too. Turning your body slightly, stepping back, or even standing instead of sitting can mark an edge without words.

5. Repair Rituals
   If you override your boundary, instead of criticising yourself, practise a repair:
   • “Next time, I’ll notice my stomach first.”
   • “It’s okay that I said yes; I’m learning.”

Repair is part of embodiment.

Rituals of Return

Boundaries aren’t a one-time act. They’re practices we return to.

Rituals of return can be very simple, and help us to regulate the nervous system:

• Journaling each night about one moment you honoured yourself.
• Drinking tea slowly after a difficult conversation, allowing your body to settle.
• Lighting a candle when you need to remind yourself: I am safe. I belong to myself.

These aren’t luxuries. They are ways of re-anchoring your nervous system so you can keep practising.

Journal Prompts

• What does a safe yes feel like in my body?

• Where in my body do I sense a no, even before my mind knows it?

• Which survival patterns (fight, flight, freeze, fawn) do I recognise in myself around boundaries?

• Who feels safest to practise small boundaries with?

Closing: A Gentle Offering

Boundaries aren’t about becoming perfect at saying no. They’re about creating safety so you can stay connected — to yourself, and to others.

If this blog stirred something in you, know that you don’t have to figure it out alone. Embodied boundaries are learned in practice, in safety, and sometimes with support. They are part of healing, resilience, and nervous system regulation.

If you’d like to explore this more deeply, I’d love to invite you into a discovery call with me. Together, we can create a package that fits where you are and what you need — whether that’s learning embodied safety, practising boundaries, or building resilience.

You don’t need to earn your boundaries. You only need to remember them. One breath, one practice, one act of safety at a time.

With care and respect,
Shelley 🌷

References & Further Reading

*A note from us: Some of the links below are affiliate links. If you choose to purchase through them, we may receive a small thank-you commission — at no extra cost to you. We only share books and resources we truly believe can support your growth and well-being.

• van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. Viking.
• Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation. Norton.
• Deb Dana (2018). The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy. W. W. Norton.
• Ogden, P., Minton, K., & Pain, C. (2006). Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy. Norton.
• Janina Fisher (2017). Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors. Routledge.
• Graham, M. (1985). Quoted in The New York Times Guide to the Arts of the 20th Century. New York: Random House.