There is an age-old debate in BDSM: Does trauma make us kinky? Can we play with trauma in kink? This question tends to elicit extremely divisive responses. If you survey people within the BDSM community to find out if they have a history of trauma, or a higher rate of mental health issues than the average population, you won’t find conclusive results.

But many of these studies fail to define what is trauma. CPTSD (often called “relational” or “attachment” trauma) is not the same thing as “big-T” Trauma (like war, genocide, kidnapping or rape), for example, yet it is still a form of trauma, and one that many people don’t recognize or aren’t aware of. The fact that we all have different definitions of trauma may influence these results. Similarly, while there may not be any higher rates of diagnosable mental health issues, that doesn’t mean that we aren’t processing experience via kink– whether or not we qualify for a diagnosis.

But both of these angles, I would argue, are missing the point. It’s not really about whether or not there is trauma, whether or not we have mental health issues, it’s about what motivates us to do the things we do. Why do we pursue kink?

To find the answer to this, I would argue that we need to unpack our “core desires.” That is, what are the key things we are looking for, looking to feel, when we engage in sex and BDSM. These core desires can be a wide range of things like powerful, powerless, adored, worshipped, dissolved, used, humiliated, seen, wanted, cared for, violated, transcendent, mischievous, etc. These desires tend to be our deepest longings, the things we are looking for in much of life, in relationships and sexually.

And generally speaking, these desires arise from deep within and from experiences when we were very young. That is, they relate to our core wounds. For example, if you often felt unseen or not understood as a child, you might have core desires of feeling seen and deeply appreciated for who you are. Or, similarly, you might be very turned on by being ignored. Or, your hottest fantasy might be something like “being ignored” while being tied to a chair in the corner and watching your partner play with someone else… all while they are actually very aware of you and will see and take care of you later. 

These are all expressions of the same core wounds and desires, but with different ways of playing them out. I might be very triggered by feeling ignored, if I really do feel that way, and yet very turned on by feeling ignored in a scene where I know it’s not really the case. 

Similarly, we may wish to play with things that are very traumatizing. This kind of “repetition with agency” can serve multiple purposes. One recent study shows that people seek a variety of outcomes from kink, including:

“restructuring the self-concept (e.g. strengthening internal characteristics which had been harmed or distorted), liberation through relationship (e.g. learning to be valued by intimate others), reclaiming power (e.g. setting and maintaining personal boundaries), repurposing behaviors (e.g. engaging in aspects of prolonged exposure), and redefining pain (e.g. transcending painful memories through masochism).”

If we play with kink because it touches our core desires, we are also then playing with things that may touch our core wounds. The potential for being triggered or even retraumatized certainly exists.

Another recent paper finds that “diverging from the unconscious or dissociative replication of traumatic events, the engagement in BDSM as trauma-play involves a deliberate enactment of personal traumas within a controlled and consensual environment. This deliberate approach allows for an intentional and cognizant interaction with the traumatic narrative.” 

And further:

“By repeatedly reenacting the early experiences of trauma, a path emerges for gradual rescripting, characterized by a dynamic oscillation between repetition and restoration (Thomas, 2020). This process is facilitated by a fusion of past scripts and aspirations for the future (Weille, 2002). From this perspective, BDSM can be seen as a playground where transformative procedures unfold, allowing for an ongoing reenactment that progressively nurtures the evolution of rescripting (Brothers, 2013; Cascalheira et al., 2023; Thomas, 2020). Based on embodiment theory (Van der Kolk, 1989), it is possible that the convergence of reenactment and rescripting occurs when the trauma becomes encoded somatically. This standpoint aligns with the broader aspiration of addressing trauma within the context of BDSM, where concepts of control, repair, and personal growth intersect.”

Some might argue that we should work on our triggers and traumas only in the relative safety of a therapeutic practice with a professional. As one such professional, I would certainly agree this is a healthy option. But for many of us, talking isn’t enough. In somatic therapy and coaching, embodiment in the context of a therapeutic relationship can be an incredibly powerful mechanism for healing. But that won’t change our core desires.

We are simply turned on by playing with, resolving, liberating, reclaiming and redefining our wounds into our core desires. These are the fundamental things we seek. So while we are certainly taking a risk in playing with the shadow sides of ourselves, particularly where we have significant sexual trauma, to avoid these potential triggers entirely would likely mean avoiding the very things that make us most aroused.

One of the keys that defines healthy kink, especially the kind that can be healing, is the safety of the container. The critical element is consent. And to consent to playing with these darker themes we must be aware of them and have a sense of where our triggers lie, and how to come back. And that very much includes both the top and bottom/ Dom and sub. 

By defining the rules of engagement, having safe words and aftercare, we can create a reasonably safe container in which to play. The more aware we are, the more practice we have in understanding our embodied sense of our triggers, and ways of supporting each other as we move through them, the more we can ensure we are in fact reclaiming and redefining, as opposed to retriggering or retraumatizing. 

Will this ever be fully safe? No. Neither is driving your car. Should you also seek the support of a caring professional who can help you understand and process your history and desires and needs and boundaries and ensure you have someone to help you process when things come up? Absolutely, ideally you do. 

Can we even avoid our triggers entirely? No. But we can learn to handle them, to understand them, to reduce the nervous system activation that arises. And if we avoid all the wounds and potential triggers we are also avoiding the main reason we come to kink– to play with and find satisfaction in our core desires. To turn our darkest moments into our hottest fantasies. 

Can that be a healthy way of processing our pain, when in the container of a loving and supportive kink dynamic? Abso-f*cking-lutely.