When the Body Speaks: How Trauma, Touch, and Somatic Healing May Offer a New Lens on Dementia

May 24, 2025May 25, 2025

Submitted by –

S. R. Hatton is a writer, caregiver advocate, and founder of S. R. Hatton Publishing

S. R. Hatton specializes in stories that explore the deeply human experiences of caregiving, chronic illness, trauma, and healing. Her work blends humor, honesty, and hope—and occasionally, a very strong cup of coffee.

Emerging research and lived experience suggest that trauma—and the way it lives in the body—may play a deeper role in cognitive decline than we previously thought.

When caregivers face a dementia diagnosis, they’re often handed a script: the symptoms will worsen, the abilities will fade, and nothing can be done but manage the decline. It’s like being given a manual titled, “Brace for Impact,” with no chapters on hope, joy, or what to do if your loved one doesn’t follow the expected path.

But what if the body is trying to say something else? What if the story isn’t entirely written yet?

Emerging research and lived experience suggest that trauma—and the way it lives in the body—may play a deeper role in cognitive decline than we previously thought. And more importantly, when we approach dementia through a trauma-informed, body-aware lens, we may begin to see surprising shifts in connection, comfort, and even clarity.

So let’s talk about the brain, the body, and the nervous system’s uncanny ability to throw a wrench into our best clinical predictions.

Understanding Trauma: Not Just a Mental Story

For years, we thought trauma lived primarily in memory—something to be talked out, resolved in therapy, or filed away with time. But anyone who’s ever jumped at a loud sound years after a car accident, or cried during a song without knowing why, knows otherwise. Trauma lives in the body. It hides in our muscles, our posture, our hormones, and, yes, possibly even in the way we age.

When the body experiences trauma, especially if unresolved, it can stay locked in a kind of internal “red alert.” This state of chronic dysregulation impacts everything: how we breathe, how we digest, how we sleep—and how we relate to the world. And if the nervous system is constantly scanning for danger, it has little bandwidth left for memory consolidation, emotional regulation, or social engagement. Sound familiar?

When Dementia Meets the Body’s Memory

Here’s where it gets really interesting. People living with dementia may lose access to names, places, even the identities of those closest to them. But they often retain rhythm, musical memory, and instinctive emotional cues. That’s because the parts of the brain involved in procedural and sensory memory are often more resilient in the early to mid-stages of cognitive decline.

Translation? Even when the mind forgets, the body remembers.

Your loved one may not recall what they had for breakfast—or even if they had breakfast—but their body might still know how to sway to Sinatra, laugh at the sound of birds outside, or relax when you gently hold their hand.

These aren’t just “sweet moments.” They’re neurological gold. They tell us that the body’s capacity to connect and respond isn’t gone—it just may need to be reached differently.

Somatic Practices That Matter More Than You Think

So what does this mean for you, the tired, over-caffeinated caregiver who’s trying to balance compassion with remembering to take the laundry out of the washer before it starts to smell?

It means you may have more tools than you realize. You don’t have to be a neuroscientist or a trauma expert. You just have to be willing to slow down, pay attention, and use the most underrated tools in dementia care: touch, tone, rhythm, and presence.

Here are a few practices to consider:

Create Sensory Safety (a.k.a. Don’t Scare the Bejeebers Out of Them)

Keep lighting soft and natural. No one wants to be bathed in surgical lighting unless they’re in surgery.
Calming scents like lavender or cinnamon can ease the nervous system.
Eliminate sudden, loud noises. That vacuum cleaner? Maybe use it after they nap.

Consistent, Comforting Touch (and No, a Pat on the Head Doesn’t Count)

A gentle hand on the arm or back can speak volumes.
Offer hand massages with lotion. It’s soothing, and hey—you’ll both smell amazing.
Holding hands in silence can be as meaningful as a full conversation.

Use Rhythm and Repetition (Because the Body Loves a Good Groove)

Familiar songs can bring someone back into the moment, sometimes miraculously.
Rocking chairs, swaying, walking together—these rhythmic actions are grounding.
Daily routines offer predictable comfort. You don’t need a rigid schedule, but a little rhythm goes a long way.

Let Emotions Flow (Yours Too, Honestly)

Don’t shut down tears, anger, or even those “why are you staring at me like that?” moments.
Acknowledge emotions with simple phrases like, “That sounds hard,” or “I’m right here.”
Emotions are part of regulation. When they’re allowed, the nervous system breathes.

Be a Body Language Detective

Notice posture, breathing, eye movement, fidgeting.
Are they curling in, withdrawing, or reaching out?
Your response matters more than your explanation. They’ll feel how you make them feel, even if they forget what you said five minutes later.

Somatic Healing Isn’t a Trend — It’s Ancient

If this all sounds new or woo-woo, consider this: somatic healing is actually ancient. Rocking babies, walking in step, singing lullabies, preparing meals together—these are all embodied practices passed down for generations. We just forgot them for a while in the fluorescent-lit world of clinical care.

But here’s the thing: no amount of medication or perfectly laminated caregiving charts can replace the impact of human presence. That quiet “I’m here” offered with a touch, a breath, a shared moment of silence—that’s where the magic still lives.

What Caregivers Need to Remember (Besides Where They Put Their Coffee)

This isn’t about curing dementia. It’s about connecting through it.

When we shift from trying to “fix” cognitive symptoms to supporting the body’s need for rhythm, regulation, and safety, we begin to notice something profound: the person is still there. Not always accessible by logic or conversation, but still profoundly human, and still responsive to care that meets them where they are.

This approach may not reverse the course of decline—but it might rewrite how that story is experienced; by both of you.

Moments of laughter. A shared hum to a favorite song. A head gently rested on your shoulder. These moments may not be charted on a cognitive scale—but they’re everything.

Closing Thoughts: This Isn’t the End of the Story

If you’re a caregiver reading this while reheating your coffee for the third time and wondering if any of this will make a difference, here’s your answer:

Yes.

Because every act of gentle presence matters. Every time you choose curiosity over correction, patience over panic, you’re creating space for healing—not always of memory, but healing from fear. From disconnection. From loneliness.

The body has a voice. When we learn to listen—not just with our ears, but with our hearts and hands—we may find there’s more still possible than anyone predicted.

About the Author:

S. R. Hatton is a writer, caregiver advocate, and founder of S. R. Hatton Publishing. She specializes in stories that explore the deeply human experiences of caregiving, chronic illness, trauma, and healing. Her work blends humor, honesty, and hope—and occasionally, a very strong cup of coffee.

Her latest book, Dementia Denied: One Woman’s True Story of Surviving a Terminal Diagnosis & Reclaiming Her Life, expands on many of the trauma-informed and somatic healing principles explored in this article. Through the extraordinary true story of Ginger Smith, the book dives deeper into how the body holds memory, how emotional overwhelm may mimic or intensify cognitive decline, and why caregivers must not underestimate the healing power of touch, rhythm, and presence.

Available in print and as an eBook on Amazon beginning May 29, 2025.

You can pre-order the eBook HERE.