Tension Release Exercises for Stored Trauma

Shake it off. Not just the Taylor Swift kind, but literally shake it off. Because when it comes to releasing trauma, your body might know something your mind hasn’t caught up with yet. We store tension like a squirrel hoards nuts for winter—except we rarely remember to go back and deal with the stash. Enter Tension & Trauma Releasing Exercises (TRE), a body-based technique that taps into our primitive, neurogenic tremor reflex to discharge deep-seated stress. Sound a little out there? That’s understandable. But the method has a growing base of practitioners, and more importantly, a trail of users who report meaningful change. This article is for people who feel like talk therapy just skims the surface, for the chronically stressed, and for anyone who suspects their shoulders shouldn’t always feel like granite slabs.

 

Let’s start with the basics: trauma isn’t just a head thing. It lives in the tissues. That idea gained serious traction after Bessel van der Kolk's "The Body Keeps the Score" made waves. It helped popularize the understanding that trauma creates physiological imprints. These imprints don’t just disappear because we rationalize our pain or unpack it in words. The body often remains stuck in a loop of hypervigilance, even when we intellectually understand we’re safe. TRE steps in here, not as therapy in the traditional sense, but as a physiological intervention to complete what psychologists call the “defensive response cycle”. Animals in the wild tremble instinctively after escaping danger. Humans, thanks to our overdeveloped prefrontal cortex and tendency to suppress, usually don’t.

 

TRE was developed by Dr. David Berceli, who worked in war zones and noticed a pattern. People held trauma in similar physical patterns, particularly around the psoas muscle—that deep-seated muscle group connecting your lower spine to your legs. He theorized that activating neurogenic tremors could help release the charge stuck in the nervous system. The idea is simple: do a series of movements that fatigue key muscle groups and then lie on your back, letting your body shake. Not like a seizure. Not like you’re possessed. Just like you’re letting go of something your nervous system has white-knuckled for too long.

 

So what’s actually happening during this shaking? The mechanism is thought to engage the parasympathetic nervous system, pulling us out of fight-or-flight and back into a rest-and-digest state. It’s a bit like hitting Control-Alt-Delete on your stress response. Studies on the topic are still developing, but a 2018 pilot study involving U.S. veterans (sample size: 15, duration: 8 weeks) observed significant reductions in anxiety and improved heart rate variability—a key indicator of autonomic nervous system balance. Another paper in the Journal of Traumatology highlighted decreased cortisol levels post-TRE, though the sample size was limited. Most of the research is early-stage, often without control groups, which means more rigorous trials are needed before mainstream adoption.

 

Still, the anecdotal evidence is hard to ignore. People have reported crying mid-shake without knowing why, or laughing uncontrollably, then sleeping better than they have in years. Of course, emotional detox is not always neat. Some users feel tired, moody, or disoriented after a session. That’s why facilitators advise grounding practices—hydration, journaling, and walking—to help reintegrate after a session. It’s not uncommon for buried emotions to come up. But that’s the point: if we’re going to release what we’ve stored, we have to be ready to see what we packed away.

 

For anyone curious about trying TRE, a typical session involves seven foundational exercises. These movements work the legs and pelvis in ways that induce fatigue in the psoas, setting the stage for tremors to arise naturally. Once that reflex kicks in, you lie on your back, knees bent, and let your body do its thing. There’s no forced shaking; it emerges when the conditions are right. Sessions usually last about 15 to 30 minutes. You can work with a trained TRE provider or do it solo, though beginners are encouraged to start with guidance to avoid overwhelm or improper form.

 

While TRE is generally safe, it isn’t for everyone. People with severe psychiatric conditions, epilepsy, or who are currently in crisis should consult a medical professional before starting. Some users have reported emotional flooding or reactivation of trauma memories. That’s not inherently harmful, but without the right support, it can feel destabilizing. Critics argue that the science is undercooked, pointing out the lack of randomized controlled trials and the potential placebo effect. Others worry about the proliferation of unlicensed TRE facilitators. Still, the approach sits comfortably within the growing field of somatic therapies—like Somatic Experiencing and Sensorimotor Psychotherapy—which prioritize body-based recovery alongside or instead of cognitive processing.

 

TRE is also showing up in corporate wellness programs, athletic recovery routines, and even among celebrities who swear by it (though most keep it low-key). That makes sense. Chronic stress doesn’t just burn us out emotionally; it hits our digestion, immunity, libido, and sleep. What we don’t metabolize emotionally gets recycled physically. That deadline you crushed under pressure? It might still be squatting somewhere in your hip flexors. We weren’t designed to run on cortisol all day, every day. TRE offers one way to downshift.

 

Here’s something practical: if you want to try TRE at home, start by doing a wall sit for one minute. Then lie down, place the soles of your feet together, let your knees fall apart, and breathe. Notice any trembling. Don’t force anything. If nothing happens, that’s okay. Sometimes the body needs a few sessions to trust the process. What matters is that you listen. And if shaking starts? Let it. Stay aware of your breath, and stop if you feel overwhelmed. Afterwards, drink water, rest, or write down what came up. Think of it like a conversation with your nervous system—but one where your body finally gets a word in.

 

The emotional side of TRE can be intense. It can feel like dredging a lake bed and pulling up relics you forgot existed. Some people report intense sorrow, joy, or rage. Others feel a subtle but undeniable lightness. There’s no one-size-fits-all outcome. But it’s important to normalize the emotional waves. Just because something surfaces doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means your system is speaking up. And finally, yes—some practitioners go overboard, marketing TRE as a cure-all for everything from migraines to heartbreak. Be skeptical. No method, especially one still being researched, should promise panaceas.

 

So, what’s the takeaway? TRE isn’t magic. It’s not a silver bullet. But for people who feel stuck, disembodied, or trapped in cycles of stress, it might offer something rare: a way to process pain without having to put it into words. That matters. Because not every wound has language. Not every story can be told. But every body wants release.

 

Disclaimer: This article is intended for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare provider before beginning any new therapeutic practice, especially if you have underlying health conditions.

 

If the body keeps the score, maybe it’s time we let it play a different tune. And sometimes, the first step is simply letting it shake.