You’ve probably seen that white and orange spine on a dozen bookshelves by now. Maybe it was at a friend's apartment, or perhaps it was staring at you from a display at the airport. It’s been on the New York Times bestseller list for years. It’s basically a cultural phenomenon at this point. But here’s the thing: The Body Keeps the Score isn't just a trendy self-help book. It’s a dense, sometimes brutal, and deeply scientific look at how our nervous systems get hijacked by the past.
Trauma isn't just a "bad memory."
It’s physical. Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, the psychiatrist who wrote it, spent decades proving that when something terrible happens, the brain actually rewires itself. The "logic" part of your brain—the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex—sorta goes offline during a flashback. Meanwhile, the amygdala, your internal smoke detector, stays screaming at a 10. You aren't just remembering the event. You are re-living it in your muscles, your gut, and your breath.
The Science Behind Why Your Body Remembers
For a long time, the medical establishment treated trauma like a "thinking" problem. They thought if you just talked about it enough in therapy, you’d eventually "get over it." Van der Kolk basically blew that idea out of the water. Using early PET scans, he showed that when people with PTSD are triggered, the Broca’s area—the part of the brain responsible for speech—actually shuts down.
Literally. They lose the ability to put words to their pain.
This is why traditional talk therapy can sometimes fail. If the speech center of your brain is dark, you can’t talk your way out of a physiological response. The body keeps the score because the nervous system is stuck in a loop. It’s still trying to survive a threat that ended ten years ago.
Think about the Vagus nerve. It’s the longest nerve in your body, connecting your brain to almost every major organ. When you’re traumatized, this nerve becomes hyper-sensitive or, conversely, totally numb. It's why people with history of high-stress environments often struggle with chronic gut issues, migraines, or autoimmune flares. It’s not "all in your head." It’s in your viscera.
The Problem With the DSM
Van der Kolk is famously critical of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). He argues that by labeling everything as "Depression" or "Generalized Anxiety Disorder," we miss the root cause. If a kid is acting out in school, we give them an ADHD label. But if that kid is living in a home where there’s domestic violence, the "hyperactivity" is actually a survival mechanism. They’re scanning the room for danger. Their heart rate is 100 beats per minute while sitting at a desk.
Labeling that as a chemical imbalance in the brain feels kind of reductive, doesn't it?
What Most People Get Wrong About Healing
There's this massive misconception that "healing" means the memories go away. Honestly, they don't. The goal described in The Body Keeps the Score is "self-leadership." It’s about teaching the body that the danger is over.
One of the most controversial but fascinating parts of the book is the move away from purely pharmaceutical interventions. While meds can help manage symptoms, they don't "fix" the rewired circuitry. Van der Kolk points toward bottom-up processing.
Instead of trying to think your way into feeling better (top-down), you move the body to signal safety to the brain (bottom-up).
- Yoga: Not just for flexibility, but for "interoception"—learning to feel what’s happening inside your skin without freaking out.
- EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing): A technique that uses bilateral stimulation to help the brain "file away" traumatic memories so they stop feeling like current events.
- Neurofeedback: Training the brain waves to reach a state of calm.
- Theater and Play: These help people get back into their bodies and practice being "present" with others.
The Reality of Developmental Trauma
The book hits hardest when it talks about children. The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study is a cornerstone of this research. It proved a direct link between childhood adversity and adult physical health. If you had a high ACE score, you were statistically more likely to develop heart disease or cancer later in life.
It’s a heavy realization.
💡 You might also like: Cushing's Disease Before and After: The Physical and Mental Reality of Cortisol Overload
It means our social systems—schools, prisons, hospitals—are often punishing people for physiological responses they can't control. When a person "shuts down" or "dissociates," they aren't being difficult. Their brain has decided that the only way to survive the current stress is to "leave" the body.
Moving Beyond the Book: Actionable Steps
If you feel like your body is holding onto things you’d rather let go of, reading the book is a good start, but it’s just information. Information isn't transformation.
First, start with interoception. Try to notice where you feel stress. Is it a tightness in your chest? A clenching in your jaw? Just noticing it—without trying to change it—is the first step in reclaiming your physical self.
Second, look into somatic experiencing or sensorimotor psychotherapy. These are types of therapy that prioritize what the body is doing over what the mind is saying. If a therapist only wants to talk about your childhood but ignores the fact that your legs are shaking or your breath is shallow, they might be missing the "score" your body is keeping.
Third, move. It doesn't have to be a marathon. It could be dancing in your kitchen or simple stretching. The goal is to break the "freeze" response. Trauma often leaves people feeling stuck or paralyzed; movement proves to the nervous system that you have agency and can move away from "danger."
Fourth, prioritize rhythm. Van der Kolk emphasizes that rhythmic activities—drumming, chanting, even walking in sync with someone—help regulate the brainstem. It’s why lullabies work for babies. Our brains find safety in predictable, rhythmic patterns.
Healing is slow. It’s frustrating. It’s often two steps forward and one step back. But the core message of the research is hopeful: because the brain is neuroplastic, it can be rewired for safety just as easily as it was wired for fear. You aren't "broken." You’re adapted. And you can adapt again.
To really put these concepts into practice, start by tracking your "glimmers"—small moments where your nervous system feels genuinely safe or connected—rather than just focusing on your triggers. This builds the capacity of your ventral vagal system, the part of you that allows for social connection and rest. Over time, these small windows of safety can expand, eventually outweighing the old "scores" your body has been keeping for years.