You’ve explained it as clearly as you can. You’ve demonstrated it, mirrored it, even pointed to the area you were referring to. And still, the person in front of you is staring blankly, checking the time, or picking at their feet.
It can be tempting to read that as disinterest, laziness, or not listening. But what if it isn’t any of those things? What if their brain simply cannot take in what you’re saying right now?
When safety goes, learning goes with it
Our brains are designed to keep us alive first and help us learn second. When someone feels unsafe, their nervous system shifts into a protective state. You may know this as fight, flight or freeze, but it can also show up as masking (camouflaging our true self), people-pleasing, or disconnection.
In this state, our higher cognitive thinking goes offline. The part of us that reasons, plans, listens and remembers steps back so the survival part can do what it considers essential: keep us safe. This means that in that moment, we quite literally cannot take in information in the same way.
For someone who has experienced trauma, that protective state can become their default. Their body has learned that the world isn’t reliably safe, so it stays on guard, even in a session that is safe, even when the threat is long gone. This is what we call a perceived threat.
When the message doesn’t land
Here’s where it gets really interesting for teachers and space holders. The relationship between the brain and the body can be affected by trauma, and that changes how instructions are received.
Take a simple cue like “step your right foot forward.” To many of us, that may seem straightforward. But for someone in a heightened state, it may not register at all. The words are heard, but the brain and body aren’t connecting the way they normally would. It isn’t a choice, and it isn’t a lack of effort. The line between hearing something and doing something has been disrupted, and beyond this – our interoceptive awareness (our ability to sense what’s happening inside the body) can be dulled or shut down.
Once you see this, the session looks different. The person who “never follows instructions” or just doesn’t seem to get it might be someone whose system is working overtime just to feel okay. And repeating yourself louder, or with a semi-mocking joke, tends to strengthen the protective state, not soften it.
What this means for how we teach
You don’t need to know how to “fix” anyone’s experience to make a difference. Understanding what’s happening and then regulating our own system opens up small, powerful shifts:
- Gorunding before you teach. A calm, steady presence from you is often more useful than another explanation.
- Slowing down and simplifying. Shorter instructions, given one at a time, are easier for a system on high alert.
- Making it accessible. Familiar routines, warm tones and choices help a nervous system settle.
- Asking “what did we notice there?” not “what’s wrong?” Inviting in curiosity rather than any shame in not getting things right.
Learning to trust the body again
Underneath all of this is something I come back to again and again in my work: trust.
When we’ve lived through experiences that felt overwhelming, we often lose trust in our own bodies. Sensations feel scary, so we push them away or numb them. We learn to override what we feel, because feeling it didn’t feel safe.
Healing isn’t about forcing anything. It’s about learning, slowly and gently, that the body can be trusted again. That it can settle. That it knows how to come back to calm. And when a space holder understands this, whether they’re a teacher, therapist or coach, they can model it, becoming a safe presence that helps another nervous system learn what safety actually feels like.
That’s what trauma-informed practice is really about. It isn’t a new set of rules. It’s a different lens, one that asks “what does this person need to feel safe enough to grow?”
Train with me in 2027: trauma-informed training for teachers and space holders
If this post has made you think differently about the people you hold space for (or about your own nervous system as a professional), there’s so much more we can explore together.
In 2027, I’m opening my trauma-informed training for teachers and space holders. You’ll learn how the nervous system shapes learning, feel confident supporting dysregulated individuals, and leave with practical, body-based tools you can use in the studio or session.
→ See more information about the 2027 trauma-informed training
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