A Mental Health–Sensitive Perspective on Physical Movement

When conversations turn to exercise they’re often framed in rigid, prescriptive ways: Move more. Push harder. Be disciplined. For many people, especially those who have experienced challenges with mental health, this messaging isn’t just unhelpful, it can be harmful.

Movement can be a powerful support for mental health. But it is important it is approached with choice, flexibility, safety, and respect for the body. When movement becomes compulsive, punitive, or disconnected from internal cues, it stops being supportive and can reinforce distress.

When it comes to movement and Mental Health it can be helpful to ask: How can movement help us feel safer, more connected, and more at home in our bodies?

How Movement Impacts Mental Health (Beyond “Endorphins”)

Movement influences mental health through multiple interconnected systems:

• Nervous system regulation: Gentle or rhythmic movement can support the shift from survival states (fight, flight, freeze) into greater regulation and safety.
• Brain chemistry: Movement can increase neurotransmitters such as serotonin and dopamine, which are associated with mood, motivation, and focus.
• Interoception: Movement can strengthen awareness of internal signals like breath, tension, fatigue, and emotional shifts, an essential skill for emotional regulation.
• Agency and choice: Choosing how and whether to move can rebuild a sense of autonomy, which is often disrupted by trauma and eating disorders.

Importantly, these benefits are not dependent on intensity, calorie burn, or appearance‑based goals.

Movement and Depression & Anxiety

Movement can be a supportive tool for both depression and anxiety, but it works best when it’s flexible and trauma-informed.

• Depression: Low energy, fatigue, and loss of motivation can make starting movement difficult. Gentle, short, and achievable activity like a brief walk, stretching, or mindful movement can help shift mood and increase motivation over time. Even small, consistent movement can improve circulation, energy levels, and feelings of accomplishment.
• Anxiety: Physical tension, racing thoughts, and hyperarousal can feel overwhelming. Slow, rhythmic, or grounding movements like yoga, tai chi, or gentle walking can help reduce physiological arousal and create a sense of safety in the body. Breath-focused movement further supports calming the nervous system.

The key is that movement for mood regulation should be choice-driven, not obligation-driven. The goal is support, not performance.

Trauma, the Body, and Movement

Trauma lives in the body not just the mind. For many trauma survivors, the body can feel unsafe, unpredictable, or disconnected. Certain types of movement, environments, or cues (mirrors, monitoring, performance pressure) may activate threat responses rather than relief.

From a trauma‑informed perspective, supportive movement:

• Prioritizes felt safety over intensity
• Is opt‑in, not forced (emphasis on choice!)
• Allows for slowing down, stopping, or changing course
• Emphasizes internal experience rather than external performance

Movement can help release stored stress and restore a sense of presence but only when the nervous system perceives it as safe.

Eating Disorders and the Complexity of Exercise

For individuals with eating disorders or disordered eating, exercise is often intertwined with control, self‑punishment, or worthiness. In these contexts, movement may be driven by anxiety rather than care.

An eating disorder–sensitive approach recognizes that:

• Not all movement is supportive movement
• Rest can be just as therapeutic as activity
• Motivation matters more than metrics

Healing often involves disentangling movement from rules, numbers, and moral judgments. This may mean taking breaks from structured exercise, redefining what movement looks like, or relearning how to listen to the body’s cues for hunger, fatigue, and recovery.

Movement becomes supportive when it is responsive, not compulsive.

What Supportive Movement Can Look Like

Supportive movement is not one‑size‑fits‑all. It may look like:

• Stretching or gentle yoga
• Walking without tracking distance or pace
• Rocking, swaying, or pacing
• Dancing 
• Breathing‑focused movement
• Restorative or floor‑based practices

For some people, the most therapeutic step is reducing movement and learning to tolerate rest without guilt. That, too, is nervous‑system work.

Reframing Movement: From “Should” to “Support”

Instead of asking:

• Did I do enough?
• Did I burn enough?
• Did I earn rest?

A thoughtful and compassionate reframe asks:

• How does my body feel right now?
• What would support me in this moment?
• Does this movement increase or decrease safety and connection?

These questions shift movement from obligation to relationship.

When Movement Helps and When It Doesn’t

Movement can support mental health when it:

• Increases presence and grounding
• Reduces emotional intensity over time
• Feels flexible and choice‑based
• Coexists with adequate nourishment and rest

Movement may be unhelpful when it:

• Is driven by fear, guilt, or control
• Overrides injury, illness, or exhaustion
• Increases anxiety or rigidity
• Replaces emotional processing rather than supporting it

Both experiences deserve honesty and compassion.

A Gentle Closing

Movement is not a moral good. It is not a requirement for worth, healing, or recovery.

When approached with curiosity and care, movement can help us reconnect with our bodies, regulate our nervous systems, and support emotional well‑being. When approached with pressure or rigidity, it can do the opposite.

Healing invites us to listen more closely to our bodies, our needs, and our limits.

Sometimes that listening leads us to move. Sometimes it leads us to rest.

Both are acts of care.