How to Feel Safe in Your Body Again (Even After Burnout or Anxiety)
MINDSETALL BLOGS
There are times when you don’t feel at home in your own body. You flinch at loud noises. You forget to breathe. You tense your shoulders without noticing. You’re not in danger, but your body acts like it’s bracing for something anyway.
There are times when you don’t feel at home in your own body. You flinch at loud noises. You forget to breathe. You tense your shoulders without noticing. You’re not in danger, but your body acts like it’s bracing for something anyway.
This is what it feels like when your nervous system is stuck in survival mode. It happens after long periods of stress, burnout, anxiety, overworking, people-pleasing, or trauma, sometimes all at once. You might be mentally aware that you’re safe, but your body hasn’t caught up yet. And that’s okay.
Safety isn’t a switch. It’s a slow return.
How does your body tell you it doesn’t feel safe?
Constant tension (especially in your jaw, neck, or shoulders)
Holding your breath or shallow breathing
Digestive issues or nausea when you’re stressed
Restlessness or the inability to sit still
Startling easily or feeling “on edge”
Emotional numbness or feeling disconnected from your body
Trouble sleeping, even when you’re exhausted
These signs aren’t dramatic. They’re quiet. But they’re real. They’re your nervous system saying: I’ve been in overdrive for a long time.
What causes this disconnect?
When you’re in fight-or-flight mode for too long, your brain and body learn to stay alert, just in case.
Even when the danger is gone, the habit remains. For some people, it starts after years of suppressing emotions. For others, it’s working too hard with no rest. For many, it’s a lifetime of being “on” for others but never truly safe for themselves. The result? You stop feeling your body as a place of peace. You start treating it like a project. A machine. A battlefield.
What science says about safety and the body
A 2014 study in Trauma Psychology found that trauma survivors often disconnect from their bodies to avoid overwhelming sensations.
A 2021 review in Frontiers in Neuroscience showed that vagal tone (the strength of your vagus nerve, which regulates calm) is closely tied to your ability to feel safe in your body. Low vagal tone = harder to relax, even when nothing is wrong.
Another study in Psychosomatic Medicine found that gentle breathwork, body-based therapy, and sensory rituals helped restore a sense of internal safety faster than talk therapy alone.
So… how do you start feeling safe again?
1. Start with your breath.
-Not deep. Not dramatic. Just consistent.
-Try this: inhale slowly through your nose for 4 counts, exhale through your mouth for 6. Do 3–4 times.
-Longer exhales, tell your brain: “We’re okay now.”
2. Name what you feel.
-Even if it’s just “tight chest” or “buzzing in my hands.”
-Noticing sensations without judgment helps reconnect you to your body.
-You don’t need to fix it, just witness it.
3. Ground yourself through touch.
-Hold your own hand.
-Massage your feet.
-Wrap yourself in a heavy blanket.
-Physical contact (even with yourself) activates receptors that calm the nervous system.
4. Move gently.
-Shake your arms. Roll your neck. Walk slowly in your room.
-You’re not exercising. You’re reminding your body it’s safe to move again.
5. Create sensory comfort.
-Use a scent you love. Play soft sounds. Dim the lights.
-Your senses are the language your body understands best.
6. Go outside, even for 2 minutes.
-Sunlight, fresh air, and the feeling of the ground beneath you all help bring your body back into the present.
7. Stop waiting for “perfect calm.”
-Safety doesn’t always feel like bliss.
-Sometimes it feels like not flinching. Or like breathing just a little easier. Start there.
Final thought
Feeling safe isn’t about being perfectly relaxed. It’s about slowly building trust with your body again. Not forcing it. Not fixing it. But showing up gently, over and over, until it starts to believe you. You are not broken. You are learning to come home to yourself. And home doesn’t need to be spotless. It just needs to feel like a place you’re allowed to stay.