Have you ever stopped to think about why the phrase ‘the body keeps the score’ has become such a cultural catchphrase? Personally, I find it fascinating how a single idea from a book can permeate everyday conversations, therapy sessions, and even social media trends. But here’s the thing: while the phrase has become a shorthand for acknowledging the physical toll of trauma, its deeper implications are often misunderstood—and sometimes downright dangerous. Let me explain.
The Rise of a Cultural Phenomenon
The phrase ‘the body keeps the score’ comes from Bessel van der Kolk’s 2014 bestseller, The Body Keeps the Score. On the surface, it’s a powerful way to describe how trauma manifests physically—think elevated cortisol levels, chronic pain, or panic attacks. But what many people don’t realize is that the book goes much further. It argues that traumatic memories aren’t just buried in the mind; they’re stored in the body itself, inaccessible to conscious memory. This is where things get tricky.
From my perspective, this idea isn’t just a scientific claim—it’s a cultural narrative. It resonates because it offers a simple explanation for complex experiences. But simplicity can be misleading. The notion of ‘repressed memories’ has a long and contentious history, one that was largely debunked during the ‘memory wars’ of the 1990s. Yet, here we are, seeing it make a comeback in a new guise. What’s particularly concerning is how this idea is being repackaged as a gateway to healing, often through alternative therapies like yoga, psychedelic-assisted treatments, or guided imagery.
The Problem with Repressed Memories
Let’s take a step back and think about memory itself. Memory isn’t a video recording we can replay; it’s a reconstruction, influenced by context, emotions, and even suggestions from others. This is why suggestive therapy techniques—like hypnosis or guided imagery—are so problematic. They can implant false memories, leaving people convinced of traumatic events that never occurred. Major psychological organizations have warned about this for decades, yet the allure of ‘recovering’ hidden memories persists.
What makes this particularly fascinating—and alarming—is how the idea has been commercialized. Scroll through TikTok or Instagram, and you’ll find ads suggesting your insomnia or anxiety might stem from repressed trauma. Take this quiz, they say, and unlock your hidden past. It’s a lucrative industry preying on vulnerability, all under the guise of ‘trauma-informed’ care. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about therapy—it’s about the commodification of trauma.
The Psychedelic Paradox
Now, let’s talk about psychedelics. MDMA and psilocybin have shown promise in treating PTSD, but their relationship to memory is complex. Psychedelics make people more suggestible, and they create a sense of profound certainty about experiences—even if those experiences are fabricated. This raises a deeper question: What happens when someone emerges from a psychedelic session with a ‘memory’ of trauma they weren’t sure was real? Early reports already hint at this issue, and it’s a detail that I find especially interesting. We’re at a crossroads where the potential for healing is real, but so is the risk of harm.
Why This Matters
In my opinion, the resurgence of the ‘repressed memory’ idea isn’t just a scientific debate—it’s a reflection of our cultural moment. We’re living in an era where trauma is increasingly central to how we understand ourselves. This isn’t inherently bad; acknowledging trauma is important. But when we oversimplify it, or worse, monetize it, we risk doing more harm than good. What this really suggests is that we need a more nuanced conversation about trauma, memory, and healing.
A Thoughtful Takeaway
If there’s one thing I want you to take away from this, it’s this: The body does keep the score, but not in the way many people think. Trauma affects us physically, emotionally, and psychologically, but memory isn’t a hidden vault waiting to be unlocked. Healing isn’t about excavating the past; it’s about understanding the present. Personally, I think we need to move beyond catchy phrases and embrace the complexity of what it means to heal. After all, the body may keep the score, but it’s up to us to interpret the game.
