In this post, I will be reviewing The Body Keeps the Score, by Bessel van der Kolk, MD, as it speaks to a community of children of divorce. I recently read and discussed this book as part of a small group of adult children of divorce that came to be through a Life-Giving Wounds support group. My reflections here incorporate the thoughts of my small group members, and I would like to dedicate this post to them.

My evaluation has two main parts: Part One will analyze the overarching project of the book, and Part Two will synthesize one particular theme that emerges. Let’s begin.

Part One: Trauma hurts both mind and body; healing also comes by way of both mind and body

The book begins with an examination of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). From this starting point, van der Kolk explores how trauma affects not only the mind (flashbacks, replaying traumatic memories, guilt, etc.) but also the body: stress hormones cause the body to malfunction and deteriorate, resulting in effects such as obesity, regional loss of feeling, heart problems, frequent illness, hair loss, and more. The title of the book - ‘the body keeps the score’ - appears as a refrain through the entire work, setting the stage for what he proposes as a path forward.

Recovery from heavy trauma, the author explains, must not only be “top-down,” that is to say, by way of the mind (talk therapy and the like), but also “from the bottom up,” by way of the body. Makes sense, right? So far so good.

As far as the “bottom-up” treatment approaches go, there are great insights but there are also points where we must hesitate. For example, although the author suggests yoga and acupressure as treatment options, a Catholic cannot unreservedly embrace the doctrines associated with such methods, even if their tension-relieving aspects are undeniable. On the other hand, a few members of my reading group have had good experiences with EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy, which seems to work with great efficacy.

Another “bottom-up” approach is role-playing. Van der Kolk tells us about how he made use of this method in workshops for folks who have very difficult relationships with their parents. He would have one person in the group share their background and current situation, and then he would have two members of the group play the roles of that person’s father and mother. The person could then say to those two people exactly what he or she would like to say to his or her real parents. Two other members of the group would play the role of the person’s ideal parents, so that the person could thank them for being everything he or she needed them to be. They found this to be a very cathartic experience for many group members: male and female, young and old. 

This method of role-playing jumped out to my small group members and me for obvious reasons. Being able to say out loud (or put into writing) what we wish we could say to difficult parents - even if our parents never hear it - can help us unload a weight off our chests. However, as far as the “ideal” parents portion is concerned, we thought that, as Catholics, we have a distinct advantage over secular support groups in this matter. If we take our faith seriously, we can find a spiritual father and mother in the Holy Family, which is not just ideal but also real. Tori Fedora wrote a wonderful reflection on the Holy Family for this blog just a few months ago, which is quite apt.

One final “bottom-up” approach is participating in a theatrical performance. As it turns out, learning about the interior drama of a play’s character - his thoughts, his background, his needs and concerns - and performing as that character on stage can help trauma victims process their own thoughts, wounds, needs, etc. Interesting! Someone in my reading group then brought up the fact that Karol Wojtyla (the man who became Pope John Paul II) had been very interested in theater, even as the Archbishop of Krakow. Was Wojtyla processing his own life’s traumas (the death of his family, Communist occupation of Poland, etc.) through his writing of The Jeweler’s Shop? Even more interesting!!

In summary, this book really wants to be Catholic. Our faith is ever mindful that we are not disembodied “intellects” or angelic spirits; we are human persons, a unity of body and soul. The proposal that healing must be sought out in part by way of the body is a very welcome idea to the Catholic ear; the body is sacramental, and to say that what we do with our body matters would be the understatement of the century. We just know that we have to be careful with what is sometimes “bound up” with bodily movements, even when pursuing healing. Nevertheless, it is absolutely possible to work in and through the body to find spiritual healing in a way that is holy.  

Part Two: To believe that healing is possible, we have to first accept that trauma is real

One particularly interesting theme throughout The Body Keeps the Score is that the world tends to try to deny the obvious fact that real life experiences can hurt people. Children of divorce, sadly, are often familiar with this dynamic, but here are three other examples the author provides:

First example: Many soldiers in World War I suffered from “shell shock”: strong young men would become soldiers and fight well at first, but after they experienced a particularly bloody battle, they would become very ineffective. Rather than accept the fact that it was traumatizing for people to see their brothers-in-arms get killed in gruesome ways, the Nazis and the Fascists in the 1930’s decided to interpret things the other way and say that some young men broke down in war because they were not actually strong men in the first place. In other words, they would claim that war itself is not traumatizing; it just shows us who is strong and who is weak. 

Second example: In the 1940’s, British psychiatrist John Bowlby wrote about how our attachments to others in adult relationships end up being insecure or anxious if, as children, we were abruptly ripped from the love and care of our families. In Britain at the time, it was customary for boys to be sent off to boarding school at the tender age of six years old, and Bowlby referred to this as an example. The British psychoanalytic community was indignant with him: they claimed that if grown men exhibit disturbed behavior, it is because of bizarre fantasies (such as the Oedipal complex), not real life experiences.

Third example: In 2002, the clergy sex abuse scandal became public. Van der Kolk tells the story of a man who came in to see him for therapy that year. This man, upon hearing allegations against his childhood priest in the news, experienced a flood of memories of horrifying abuse he too had suffered at the hands of this priest, but which he had buried away for many years. He went to court to testify against the priest, but the priest’s attorney argued that the concept of repressed memories was “junk science,” and that all the people stepping forward were merely making up fake memories. 

These three examples show that just about anything can be denied for a time. Nowadays, thankfully, society more easily accepts the fact that adverse experiences (especially in childhood) can and often do cause deep and long-lasting damage. In fact, considerable progress has been made in the effort to provide healing in each of the three areas mentioned above. Since the development of PTSD as a diagnosis in 1980, VA hospitals now offer intense therapy for veterans, as opposed to just managing their anger or alcoholism. Attachment theory is now widely accepted in academic circles and is even incorporated into marriage preparation programs. And of course, in today’s world, any credible allegations made against a priest are scrupulously investigated - not only so that justice may be served, but especially to facilitate victim assistance by whatever means necessary.

Even if the world denies the reality of trauma at first, we must become a “trauma-conscious” society, which van der Kolk thinks is possible and in fact imminent (if we help it along). The author was very incisive in developing this theme and drawing this conclusion; we would simply want to add that parental divorce is itself a special kind of trauma. He mentions parental divorce from time to time throughout the book, but never treats it as a trauma in its own right. 

To give a bottom-line conclusion, I must say that the book was fascinating to read as part of a small group of children of divorce. It’s a heavy lift - a bit long and at times very dark - but it was both validating and eye-opening. If you are considering reading this book yourself, we suggest that you also read a spiritual text alongside it as well, and take time to pray after the heavier sections.

Alex Wolfe grew up in western Pennsylvania and studied Theology at DeSales University. Through the experience of seeing his parents get divorced while he was in college, Alex decided to study at the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and the Family in Washington, D.C. He completed the Master of Theological Studies degree and coursework for the Ph.D. 

Alex is now employed by the Office of Marriage, Family, and Respect Life at the Diocese of Arlington, where he focuses on marriage preparation and healing for children of divorce. He serves as the Content and Support Group Advisor for Life-Giving Wounds and is a member of the Life-Giving Wounds traveling team.