For many survivors of childhood sexual abuse (CSA), the journey of healing can feel uncertain and unsteady—like walking on shifting sand. The trauma experienced in childhood can fracture a person’s sense of self, stability, and connection, not only with others but also with their own body and the world around them. In the midst of this long and often difficult process of recovery, nature offers something quietly powerful: steadiness.
Nature Does Not Demand Explanations
Nature is a safe witness just as Lee Lyttle writes in his book Wounded Healer: “When I cried, the trees stared at me and simply listened. I felt secure, I wasn’t judged (p.30).” Nature accepts us unconditionally in a way that can be challenging to find in human relationships. Being outdoors, especially in quiet and natural places, can provide a place to express oneself, feel oneself without intrusion or judgement. For many survivors, this is a crucial step in feeling safe again: to be seen, without having to explain, justify, or defend.
In this natural playground, we can observe and learn from nature’s processes: trees don’t hurry to bloom; rivers carve through stone over centuries; leaves are shed for new ones; forest fires cleanse, creating space for new, stronger foliage. Nature’s cycles of death and rebirth, removal for new growth, reflect the human journey into healing: our sense of self continually shifts. We, too, shed the dead leaves of shame and guilt in the hope of budding new leaves of empowerment. Nature imparts that it’s okay to move slowly; there is no urgency to “move on” from trauma. Healing is not linear. Like a tide, healing has ebbs and flows, and like the earth, we are allowed to change gradually, to rest, to fall apart, and to grow again.
Nature is an Anchor
Trauma, especially CSA, often disrupts the relationship we have with our own bodies. Many survivors may feel numb, disconnected, or unsafe in their physical selves. Nature gently invites us back to the body through sensory experiences that feel grounding and real. Nature acts like an exploratory playground survivors can engage with at their own pace.
“These experiences in Nature are where I learned I had some control and when I explored, nothing stopped me, and nothing judged me. The environment just seemed to sit and watch me playing. Sometimes I shifted leaves and grass around to examine the light of the sun and create my own shadows. My time in Nature was, and continues to be, limitless (Lyttle, p.29).”
For those who have experienced the instability of trauma, there is comfort and anchoring in simply touching the earth. Feeling your feet in the grass, sitting against a tree trunk, or feeling the softness of a flower petal. The earth and all of its offerings holds us without question.
If you are a CSA survivor, please know this: you are not broken. You are healing in your own time, in your own way. And the natural world is walking alongside you. The ground beneath your feet is more than support. It is a steady companion.
