Why Play Feels Hard After Trauma

Reclaiming Play: A Guide to Restoring Safety, Joy, and Connection After Trauma

For people who have experienced complex or single-event traumas, play can feel out of reach. But why is that, and how can we reestablish play in a way that feels safe and healing?

Play is not just a luxury—it’s an essential human action system that supports nervous system regulation, connection, and emotional processing. Yet for trauma survivors, the ability to engage in play can feel inaccessible, because trauma disrupts the safety and curiosity needed for creative exploration.

This guide is designed for trauma survivors, as well as therapists and caregivers supporting them, to explore how play can become a powerful pathway to healing and reconnection with oneself and others.

What is play?

Play is an activity that we feel compelled to do. We choose to play from a sense of freedom and active engagement. Play involves imagination, exploration, and enjoyment. It's a process without a goal characterized by spontaneity and pleasure. Play is essential for cognitive, emotional, social, and physical development for all ages. 

What is complex and single event trauma?

Trauma occurs when an event overwhelms the brain and body’s ability to process and respond, leaving the nervous system stuck in a state of heightened energy, low energy, or disconnection.

• Single-Event Trauma: Stemming from a singular, unexpected incident (e.g., a car accident or natural disaster), this type of trauma often causes distress or hyperawareness. It is typically easier to treat, especially when addressed shortly after the event.

• Complex Trauma: Resulting from repeated or prolonged harm, often in interpersonal contexts (e.g., chronic abuse or neglect), this form of trauma affects emotional regulation, trust, and identity. Symptoms often weave through many aspects of life, requiring a tailored approach to rebuild safety and resilience.

Trauma Affects the Ability to Play

Trauma disrupts the sense of security and curiosity needed for creative exploration for many. Play requires relaxation and openness, but trauma often locks the nervous system into fight-or-flight or shutdown states, making spontaneous or joyful activities feel inaccessible.

Neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp identified play as a fundamental emotional system essential for social bonding, learning, and emotional regulation. Trauma, however, impairs the brain’s ability to access security and joy, making play feel inaccessible

For children, trauma can stifle imaginative play, which is critical for processing experiences and developing social and emotional skills. In adults, trauma often leads to rigidity or withdrawal, as the brain prioritizes survival over exploration. Healing involves gently reintroducing small, secure, playful experiences to rebuild trust, flexibility, and emotional resilience.

How Do We Start Playing Again?

The reintroduction of play in trauma healing is a gentle, gradual process. This pace prioritizes a feeling of security, connection, and choice. If we go too fast, aspects of the self that protect emotional wounds will prevent play from happening. The unpredictability of play can feel threatening. Participants may fear that something bad could happen and catch them off guard.

We must create experiences where the body and mind can begin to shift out of survival and into curiosity. Here's what it might look like:

Somatic and Movement-Based Play

• Non-Structured Movement: Dancing or unstructured movement can help survivors connect with their bodies with a spirit of curiosity.

• Sensory Play: Exploring textures, sounds, or light provides gentle stimulation. For those with a history of sensory overwhelm, this approach supports curiosity and relaxation.

Safe, Relational Play

• Childhood Activities: Engaging in simple, low-stakes games and activities. Examples - coloring, puzzles, or stacking blocks.

• Relational Play: Activities like tossing a ball, improv theater games, or storytelling foster connection and trust.

• Co-Regulation: Play with a trusted partner (therapist, friend, or family member). It's important that the play partner can model flexibility, non-judgment, and gentle enthusiasm.

Imaginative and Creative Play

• Art and Music: Painting, drawing, playing musical instruments, or singing can provide an outlet for self-expression and rekindle joy.

• Role-Playing or Storytelling: Creating characters or narratives can help survivors explore new possibilities and rewrite internalized stories of helplessness or fear.

Playful Exploration of the World

• Nature Play: Activities like hiking, gardening, or simply exploring natural environments encourage curiosity and connection with something larger than oneself.

• Small Novelty: Trying low-risk, fun activities like cooking a new recipe, visiting an experiential museum like a science museum, or learning a simple craft can reawaken a sense of wonder.

Therapist-Guided Play

• Trauma-Sensitive Play Therapy: In a therapeutic setting, play is tailored to the survivor’s needs, using tools like sand trays, puppets, or symbolic objects to help process emotions.

• Gradual Exposure: Therapists, you can focus on introducing small elements of play in a way that respects the survivor’s readiness, building tolerance for joy and spontaneity over time.

Key Principles:

• Pacing: Start small and respect the survivor’s boundaries and readiness.

• Safety First: Ensure the environment and activities feel safe and non-threatening.

• Choice and Agency: Empower survivors to choose how and when they engage in play.

• Attunement: Pay close attention to signals of overwhelm or discomfort and adjust accordingly.

• Personalization: Each person’s path to reintroducing play will be unique. Center the survivor’s preferences, pace, and natural inclinations rather than imposing a fixed idea of what play ‘should’ look like.

Reintroducing play is not about forcing joy but about creating opportunities for exploration, connection, and eventually, healing. Over time, these experiences help the nervous system reclaim a sense of security and possibility.

What to Expect when Reintroducing Play

Peers and practitioners alike may find it counterintuitive that play can be challenging for trauma survivors. After all, it’s just fun and games—who wouldn’t enjoy that? In reality, play and positive emotions can feel downright threatening to trauma survivors.

Survivors and Resistance to Play

Survivors often have "protectors" that defend the boundaries of wounded parts of the self, playing a crucial role in maintaining stability. If play feels threatening to these parts, various resistance styles may emerge. It’s essential to approach protectors with care, as pushing past them can lead to backlash and harm. Rather than minimizing their role, we aim to understand and celebrate these protective mechanisms, working with them to gently reintroduce play as a secure and adaptive experience.

Seeing Play as Childish and “Stupid”

• Survivors who feel embarrassed or dismissive about play are often internalizing messages they received from family, culture, or society about the nature of play. These messages frame play as immature or worthless, making it an easy way for the person to avoid engaging with something that might feel vulnerable or triggering.

Feeling Fearful and Overwhelmed by Play

• For some survivors, the openness and unpredictability of play can feel unsafe or overwhelming. Traumatic surprise is a part of many a trauma story. Play might trigger memories of times when they were vulnerable, unguarded, or taken advantage of, making it emotionally threatening rather than enjoyable.

Seeing Play as Irresponsible

• Survivors may view play as incompatible with responsibility, often because their sense of safety depended on being hyper-responsible in their earlier experiences. Play can feel indulgent, frivolous, or even dangerous, clashing with the internalized need to remain in control and "serious" at all times.

Seeing Play as Irrelevant

• Some survivors may struggle to see the value of play, dismissing it as unimportant or disconnected from their current goals or needs. This perspective often stems from a survival-based mindset where activities must have a tangible purpose or outcome to be "worth it."

Not Being Able to Connect with Play

• For others, the very concept of play might feel foreign or inaccessible. They may have never experienced play in a safe or joyful way, leading to difficulty understanding what play feels like or how to engage with it. This disconnect can leave them feeling frustrated or disconnected from themselves and others.

Seeing Play as a Threat to Vulnerability

• Play often involves spontaneity, openness, or relational connection, which can feel risky for survivors who rely on self-protection. Vulnerability in a playful context might trigger fears of being judged, rejected, or insecure.

From Protection to Expansion

Protectors are a natural part of recovering from trauma through play, but they are not the end of the story. When we acknowledge and honor their role in keeping the survivor secure and on track, protectors begin to soften. Attempting to bypass them, however, leads to resistance—this is their purpose: to protect.

By working with these protectors rather than against them, survivors can gradually rebuild a relationship with play in a way that feels secure and sustainable, on their own terms. Since play looks different for everyone, embracing this diversity allows for a richer and more personalized healing experience.

Roya’s Story: From Hustle to Wholeness

Roya walked into therapy with all the hallmarks of success: a lucrative career in tech, accolades from prestigious institutions, and an impeccably curated life. Yet beneath the polished exterior, Roya was unraveling. Anxiety shadowed her every move, and a nagging sense of meaninglessness crept into even her most celebrated achievements. She confided in her therapist: “I don’t know how to stop. I feel like if I rest, I’ll lose everything, including myself.”

Growing up, Roya was the child of a functionally addicted parent. Her mother, a high-powered business executive, juggled her professional demands with a quiet but consuming dependency on alcohol. The addiction was never acknowledged outright—it was woven seamlessly into the fabric of their home. Roya learned early on that the household revolved around two things: her mother’s work and her mother’s addiction.

As a child, Roya quickly adapted to the unspoken rules of the house. She learned to manage her own emotions with the limited tools she had, burying her confusion and longing under a layer of control. “No one had time for my feelings,” she would later reflect in therapy. “So I stopped having them—or at least, I thought I did.” She found solace in order and perfectionism, developing obsessive habits to cope with the chaos. If she could control her grades, her appearance, her achievements, she thought, then maybe life would make sense.

This strategy served her well—at least outwardly. By the time she reached her late 20s, Roya had climbed her way to success. But success felt hollow. She told her therapist, “I’ve built this life I’m supposed to love, but I’m miserable. Everything feels pointless unless I’m achieving something.” Roya admitted that any attempt to rest, let alone engage in playful or “frivolous” activities, sent her into a spiral of despair. Without the structure of achievement, she was left alone with the weight of her own emptiness.

The Therapeutic Journey

In therapy, Roya began to unpack the weight of her childhood. The first step was grief—grieving the childhood she never had, the absence of a parent who could attune to her needs, and the years spent suppressing her emotions. “It’s like I was always a tiny adult,” she said. Her therapist helped her connect with the childlike parts of herself that had been abandoned and silenced, encouraging Roya to imagine what she might have needed back then.

This process wasn’t linear. Roya’s perfectionism followed her into therapy, turning self-reflection into another performance. She worked hard at grieving, even when her therapist gently reminded her that there was no “perfect” way to heal. The hardest part for Roya was learning to tolerate the discomfort of doing nothing—of allowing herself to rest, to play, to exist without striving for the next achievement.

Over time, Roya began to experiment with small, aimless activities. Her therapist suggested she try activities with no goal beyond curiosity and joy. She started with simple things: doodling in a notebook, taking long walks with no destination, and experimenting with cooking unusual recipes. At first, these activities felt unbearable. “It’s like this black hole of meaninglessness opens up,” she admitted. But with time and patience, Roya found that these small acts of creativity and exploration began to spark something new in her.

The Transformation

Years into her therapeutic journey, Roya noticed a shift. She still cared about her career and continued to pursue success, but the tone of her ambition had changed. It was no longer about proving her worth or maintaining control—it was about adventure. “I’m still achieving things,” she told her therapist, “but now it’s about seeing what’s possible, not about fitting myself into someone else’s definition of success.”

Roya also discovered a love for creative writing, a hobby she had dismissed in childhood as “pointless.” It became a space where she could play with ideas, experiment with stories, and reconnect with the wonder she had lost.

Incorporating play and creativity into her life didn’t just reduce her anxiety—it gave her the meaning she had been searching for. “I used to think meaning only came from accomplishments,” Roya reflected. “Now I realize it’s in the moments when I feel alive—when I’m curious, when I’m creating, when I’m just being.”

Roya’s journey wasn’t about abandoning achievement altogether. She still pursued goals, but they were no longer her lifeline. She had built a life that felt expansive, one where she could rest, play, and explore without fear. Her success was no longer confined to rigid boxes; it was redefined by freedom, joy, and curiosity.

Let’s Play!

Healing through play is not about forcing joy but about creating secure, meaningful opportunities for curiosity and connection.

Over time, survivors may discover new forms of play that reflect their growth, from creative hobbies to adventurous pursuits. As survivors grow, their relationship with play can expand, incorporating fun into their lives in ways they may not have imagined at the start.

Play can become a lifelong source of joy, resilience, and connection!