Embodied Power Games

A somatic and systemic approach to breaking free from dysfunctional relational patterns

May 10, 2025

There is a kind of silence that enters the room before words do—a dense, charged quiet that speaks of roles already cast. In the subtle shifts of breath, the way someone sits forward with tension in the chest or leans back with disengaged eyes, we sense what is not said: power is already at play.

In helping professions, leadership contexts, and intimate relationships, dysfunctional power dynamics often unfold not through grand gestures of dominance, but in unconscious, embodied patterns we repeat—again and again. These patterns, known classically as “relational games” or “drama roles,” have long been studied in psychological theory (Karpman, 1968; Berne, 1964), but rarely have they been examined as somatic systems—living configurations of tension, survival reflexes, and inherited attachment strategies moving through the body.

This essay proposes a bio-systemic reinterpretation of these relational games—what I call “power games”—as embodied, multi-level survival adaptations. In this view, we do not simply play roles like Victim, Rescuer, or Persecutor; we feel them in our musculature, posture, breath. Our nervous system learns them long before we can name them. And if we do not bring these patterns to awareness, we unconsciously cast others into these roles as well—often drawing our therapists, leaders, or peers into the dynamics we are trying to escape.

As a somatic and systemic practitioner, I have worked with clients and groups navigating the aftermath of trauma, disconnection, and power misuse. One of the most consistent insights is this: the first step is not to analyze the story but to see and sense the force field of power that governs the space. I draw it. I map it. I invite the body to recognize it. And I teach people to step out—not just intellectually, but through the body, through their spine, breath, ground, and movement.

This is not just therapeutic work; it is existential and civic. In an era of cascading global crises, our cultural nervous systems are dysregulated, and our social institutions often replicate the very power pathologies we carry in our flesh. Recognizing and transforming these dynamics is not a private endeavor—it is a social, relational, and ecological necessity (de la Barca et al., 2024; Porges, 2011).

We will move through multiple dimensions—neuro, psycho, socio—to map the anatomy of power patterns, their origin in attachment and trauma, their manifestations in the body, and their transformation through somatic sovereignty: the capacity to hold one’s power with integrity, responsiveness, and embodied awareness.

This essay is both a theoretical contribution and a practical guide. At the end of each section, we will offer integrative somatic tools and reflections for individuals, practitioners, and leaders—because this work is not only to be known, but practiced, lived, and grounded.

Let us begin where power begins in the silent, invisible moment before the words arise—in the tension of the spine, the impulse of the breath, the memory in the muscle.

Games We Don't Know We're Playing: The Anatomy of Power Dynamics

Dysfunctional Roles as Embodied Survival Strategies.

We do not choose power games consciously. They are not scripts we agree to, but survival strategies written into the body through early experiences, attachment wounds, and relational trauma. We enter them not because we want to—but because our nervous system has learned that these roles offer predictability, safety, or a form of control in an otherwise chaotic world.

The Classic Triangle, Revisited

Stephen Karpman's Drama Triangle (1968) outlined a deceptively simple model: three roles—Victim, Rescuer, and Persecutor—that people unconsciously enact in conflict. But this triangle is not only psychological; it is deeply somatic. Each role has a postural expression, a breathing pattern, a tone of voice. Each role lives in the body.

Victim: collapsed chest, shallow breath, inward gaze. The nervous system is often in dorsal vagal shutdown, conserving energy in a state of learned helplessness.

Rescuer: forward-leaning body, overactive energy, high-pitched or soothing voice. The system is in sympathetic arousal, hyper-attuned to others’ needs, often at the cost of self.

Persecutor: rigid jaw, puffed chest, hard eyes. Often masking vulnerability with defensive sympathetic activation—a fight posture coded as control.

These embodied roles become familiar “costumes” we wear in stressful relationships. But unlike theatrical roles, we often forget that we are playing them. They become automated, driven by early relational blueprints—especially attachment trauma (Lyons-Ruth, 1999; Fonagy & Target, 2000). In childhood, when care was inconsistent or abusive, the child may have learned that submission (Victim), appeasement (Rescuer), or aggression (Persecutor) was the only way to stay safe.

This is not manipulation. It is adaptation.

The Systemic Pull of Power Games

What makes these games particularly potent is that they do not remain within the individual—they pull others in. Power games are not self-contained behaviors but relational systems. A person unconsciously stuck in a Victim state may draw out a Rescuer—or push someone into a Persecutor stance simply by projecting helplessness or moral authority.

Tuccillo (2016) describes this dynamic as a form of projective identification: the client unconsciously places unwanted feelings (fear, weakness, guilt) into the therapist or leader, subtly casting them into a role. Without clear boundaries and somatic presence, the helper may accept the role—beginning to act from it without even realizing. This is why many professionals find themselves drained, defensive, or confused after sessions with clients entrenched in such patterns.

These roles are fluid. The Rescuer, exhausted by unmet demands, may become angry and flip into Persecutor. The Victim, once empowered, may suddenly dominate others with moral superiority. The triangle spins, and the participants shift roles unconsciously, maintaining the cycle.

The Invisible Script in the Room

In my work, I’ve learned to sense when a power game is shaping the field. It often arrives before the story is told—through muscle tension, gaze patterns, or the energetic asymmetry of the room. I teach clients to draw the triangle. To map who they have unconsciously placed in each role—not to blame, but to see.

This drawing becomes a moment of clarity. Once the field is made visible, the body can begin to choose differently. We can step out of the role, not only cognitively, but through breath, alignment, movement, and voice.

But it begins with recognition. These games thrive in the invisible.

The Body as Battlefield: Somatic Correlates of Power Patterns

Where power is not spoken, it is stored.

Power games are not only relational—they are profoundly physiological. Long before we form words like "dominance" or "submission," our bodies have already adapted to these dynamics. Our breath tightens, our gaze narrows or flinches, our torso shrinks or swells. The body becomes the first battleground of power.

In a trauma-informed, bio-systemic perspective, dysfunctional power roles are understood not merely as behaviors or personalities, but as survival strategies encoded in the autonomic nervous system. The child whose boundaries were never respected, the adult who was never mirrored in their strength, the person whose only validation came through rescuing others—all of them learned power not as a choice, but as a set of sensorimotor reflexes in response to felt relational threat.

The Polyvagal Lens: How Safety Shapes Power

Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory (2011) offers a foundational understanding of how our nervous system navigates power. According to this model, the human body constantly scans for cues of safety or danger through a process called neuroception. Depending on what it senses, the body shifts into one of three main states:

Ventral vagal (safety + connection): open posture, calm breath, social facial expression.

Sympathetic (mobilization): fight/flight. Increased heart rate, tensed muscles, forward-leaning intensity.

Dorsal vagal (shutdown): collapse, numbness, disengagement. Flattened affect, slouched spine, low energy.

Power games often arise when the system does not feel safe. In the absence of co-regulation, we fall back on defensive strategies: control, withdrawal, appeasement. What appears externally as “drama” is internally a struggle to regain regulation.

This is crucial: dysfunctional power is a symptom of dysregulation. Whether in the form of dominance or passive manipulation, the body is attempting to protect itself.

Dominance as Dysregulation: A Somatic Insight

Dominance is often misunderstood as strength. But in many relational contexts, dominance is an overcompensation for early helplessness—a body armoring itself against vulnerability. This can show up as rigidity in the torso, elevated shoulders, clenched jaw, or a compulsive need to control space, voice, or others' attention.

In clients who grew up with controlling or emotionally unpredictable caregivers, especially dominant maternal figures, a unique pattern may emerge: the use of victimhood as a means of power. That is, the child may have internalized the message that to be seen, helped, or protected, they must appear helpless. But the helplessness is active—it demands, expects, accuses. It holds others accountable for care without the willingness to co-regulate.

In these cases, the client may recreate this dynamic in adult relationships, including with therapists or group facilitators. As they narrate overwhelming stories or cite external oppressions (e.g., poverty, illness, an unforgiving parent), they unconsciously position themselves at the base of the triangle—but with the aim of climbing to its top through moral leverage. In their world, power is claimed not through agency but through narrative gravity.

This is not pathology. This is strategy.

When a helper refuses to play the expected Rescuer role—or gently reflects the embodied pattern—the client may flip roles. The formerly helpless one may become accusatory, cold, or controlling. The helper, if not grounded in their own somatic axis, may find themselves pulled into the Persecutor position—or shrink into silent appeasement.

Here, we see a closed power loop, sustained not by conscious will but by the nervous system’s need for safety through familiar structure—even if that structure is painful.

Drawing the Dynamics: A Tool for Awareness

In my practice, I often ask clients to draw the triangle as it appears in their current life. Who do they place in each corner? What narrative sustains the configuration? Where does their body tighten as they speak? This visual mapping helps clients externalize the internalized hierarchy, and more importantly, to feel it in the body.

We explore questions like:

What would happen if you stepped out of the triangle?

Where do you feel safest—top, base, or outside the shape?

Can you sense the cost of holding this structure?

Over time, clients begin to sense that the triangle is not truth—it is a survival map. And like any map, it can be redrawn.

Somatic Patterns of Power Response

The following body patterns are often observed in individuals engaged in unconscious power games:

Each posture, breath pattern, or eye gesture is a signal—a request for safety, or a defense against expected harm. The therapist’s or leader’s task is not to correct the story, but to meet the body's question: “Am I safe enough to regulate differently?”

Stepping Out of the Triangle: The Somatic Path to Functional Power

From embodied repetition to conscious, regulated presence.

You cannot think your way out of a power game.

The triangle—Victim, Rescuer, Persecutor—is not held in your mind, but in your body. It lives in the breath you hold, the muscle you tense, the voice you modulate to stay safe. So stepping out of it begins not with insight, but with somatic disruption: a shift in posture, breath, or grounding that interrupts the cycle at its physiological root.

This is what I call the somatic path to functional power.

The Five Somatic Steps of Transformation

In my practice, the journey out of the power triangle follows a specific sequence—a path that moves from cognitive recognition to embodied reclamation. The aim is not only to leave the old role, but to step into a new kind of strength: centered, regulated, relational power.

1. Mapping the Field: Seeing the Power System

The first step is visual. I invite the client (or group) to draw the triangle—not only the roles, but the energetic dynamics behind them. Who holds the moral leverage? Who avoids accountability? Who initiates rupture or demands repair?

This diagram often reveals that the “Victim” is holding the most power—not through aggression, but through narrative gravity. The system revolves around them. This alone can begin to shift perception. Power is not only at the top—it is where the attention flows.

2. Sensing the Body: Locating the Pattern Somatically

Once the structure is visible, we enter the body. Where does this pattern live? Clients might notice:

a collapsed belly when telling their “helpless” story,

tension in the shoulders when trying to “fix” others,

clenched fists when feeling unheard or unseen.

These are not random. They are sensorimotor maps of old roles.

Naming the sensation is the beginning of choice. As van der Kolk writes, “The body keeps the score” (2014), but it also offers the first exit.

3. Tracing the Origins: Attachment and Power

With body awareness anchored, we explore origins—not analytically, but relationally. We ask:

Who was power in your early life?

What happened when you showed strength—or vulnerability?

How did your nervous system learn to be safe?

Here, a common pattern arises: the client who was disempowered by a dominant parent (often a mother) may have learned to survive through passive resistance or narrative control. But over time, this strategy becomes a rigid identity, demanding affirmation, unable to tolerate reflection.

By naming this as relational adaptation, not flaw, we offer dignity without enabling the game.

4. Reclaiming the Body: Grounding, Axis, and Movement

This is the core of the shift: functionalizing the power.

The body must experience what it never had: regulated power. Not dominance through threat or withdrawal, but centered, aligned, anchored presence. I teach practices that support this:

Grounding: sensing feet, weight, stability. The earth as nervous system support.

Axis work: engaging the spine, feeling the “inner vertical,” resisting the pull to collapse or puff.

Core support: activating the back, belly, and breath to hold internal tension without projection.

Functional discharge: movement that channels stored activation (e.g., walking, pushing, expressive gesture) in a way that expresses, rather than suppresses or explodes.

These practices allow the nervous system to learn you can be powerful without disconnection.

5. Practicing New Relational Behaviors

Once internal safety is re-established, we practice relational re-patterning. This includes:

Holding eye contact while naming a need without demand.

Allowing silence in conflict without rescuing or attacking.

Speaking truth from the body, not from narrative defense.

Witnessing others without slipping into fixing, defending, or collapsing.

These are not scripts. They are somatic rehearsals of dignity. Over time, they become new ways of being in relationship—especially when practiced in safe group spaces, supervision, or structured dyads.

Regulated Dominance: When Power Becomes Service

I teach that dominance is not the problem. What matters is how it is held.

When channeled through a regulated, aware body, dominance becomes leadership. It stabilizes group energy. It names the unspeakable. It holds the edge with care. A regulated dominant presence does not command—it invites.

The spine must lead. The breath must stay open. The ground must be felt.

This is what I call embodied authority: not the authority to control, but the authority to stay connected in complexity, and to guide from the body, not from fear.

Stepping Out of the Triangle: The Somatic Path to Functional Power

A neuroscience- and relationship-informed framework for embodied transformation.

Dysfunctional power patterns do not live only in the psyche; they are embedded in the nervous system and reflected in the body. They are practiced through breath, posture, muscle tone, and relational signaling. As such, stepping out of power games—Victim, Rescuer, Persecutor—is not merely a cognitive act. It is a somatic and systemic process of recalibration.

From a bio-systemic perspective, power roles are not evidence of pathology, but of adaptive survival strategies embedded in physiology. They reflect attempts to create safety, predictability, and control in the absence of co-regulation. These roles may have served a necessary function in early relational environments, but in adult relationships they often become fixed and dysfunctional. The path out must therefore be embodied, integrative, and intentionally practiced.

1. Mapping the Power Field: From Story to Structure

As a first intervention, I invite clients or groups to externalize the invisible dynamics by drawing the relational triangle. Who is positioned in each role? What narrative sustains the system? Who is the emotional gravitational center?

This mapping exercise, though deceptively simple, often reveals a critical truth: power is not only at the top of the triangle. The “Victim” role, especially when chronic and fused with self-worth, may hold narrative dominance. The entire relational system orients around them, reinforcing the configuration.

As Cozolino (2014) notes, social systems are built to regulate uncertainty through relational scripts. When these scripts are driven by unresolved trauma, the system becomes circular reinforcing the very threat response it seeks to soothe.

2. Locating the Pattern: Somatic Awareness as Intervention

Once the structure is made explicit, we invite the body into the conversation. Clients are guided to notice the physiological correlates of each role:

Victim: collapsed posture, inhibited breath, frozen diaphragm

Rescuer: forward lean, scanning eyes, tension in throat and chest

Persecutor: puffed chest, rigid jaw, bracing legs, vocal intensity

These somatic patterns align with the autonomic nervous system states outlined in Porges’ Polyvagal Theory (2011). For example, Victim states often involve dorsal vagal shutdown (freeze, numbness), while Rescuer patterns activate the sympathetic system (mobilization). Recognizing these states allows individuals to interrupt the automatic neuroception of threat and re-engage their social engagement system (ventral vagal), which is necessary for functional interaction (Porges, 2011).

3. Tracing Origins: Attachment, Power, and the Early Bodymap

With awareness growing, we trace these patterns to their developmental roots—not through narrative alone, but through relational memory and body-mapped experience. Often, the individual who adopts a helpless stance in adulthood was dominated in childhood by an overpowering caregiver, frequently in emotionally inconsistent or invasive maternal systems (Lyons-Ruth, 1999).

In these environments, vulnerability may have been punished, autonomy shamed, and relational repair unavailable. As a result, the child learns to survive not by resisting power, but by manipulating it subtly using weakness, withdrawal, or moral leverage as currency.

This dynamic is often misunderstood as narcissism. In fact, it is a somatic survival adaptation—a system-level strategy to avoid annihilation by maintaining some semblance of control. Dan Siegel (2020) emphasizes that a secure attachment is not about the absence of distress, but the presence of attuned regulation. Without this, the body builds defenses into identity.

4. Reclaiming the Self: Grounding, Axis, and Functional Movement

At the heart of transformation is reclaiming the body’s ability to hold regulated power. This involves activating what I call the somatic axis: an inner verticality of presence, breath, and responsiveness.

Clients learn:

Grounding: sensing the support of the earth through the feet; creating postural stability.

Axis activation: engaging the spine and torso without collapsing or puffing.

Core containment: using breath and back-body awareness to metabolize intensity.

Functional movement: channeling excess arousal through structured gestures (e.g., pushing, walking, voice work).

These techniques are supported by somatic approaches such as Somatic Experiencing (Levine, 2010), Sensorimotor Psychotherapy (Ogden & Fisher, 2015), and trauma-informed movement modalities. Studies show that these methods enhance autonomic flexibility and reduce trauma symptoms (Payne, Levine, & Crane-Godreau, 2015).

As clients experience regulated strength, they begin to differentiate between control driven by fear and power grounded in awareness.

5. Practicing Relational Repatterning: Co-Regulated Authority

With the body stabilized, new behaviors can emerge. These include:

Naming needs without collapsing or attacking.

Maintaining presence during disagreement.

Recognizing and resisting role invitations in others.

Offering structured, regulated feedback without disconnection.

In this phase, the nervous system must learn through relational rehearsal—in therapy, group process, or mentorship. Hogue & Liddle (2009) demonstrated that an “authoritative therapeutic stance” characterized by calm clarity, structure, and empathy produces better outcomes than passive or authoritarian models—especially with high-conflict clients.

This is where power becomes service.

6. Regulated Dominance: Redefining Strength

Dominance, when conscious and regulated, is not pathology. It is leadership.

Keltner (2016) describes how power, when disconnected from empathy, leads to impulsivity, entitlement, and disconnection. But when paired with compassion, co-regulation, and embodied awareness, it becomes what he calls “dignified influence.”

Stephen Porges (2011) similarly notes that healthy authority requires ventral vagal tone: the physiological capacity to remain present, responsive, and non-threatening while holding firm boundaries.

I define regulated dominance as the ability to:

Stay in contact while taking charge.

Use structure without shame.

Hold space without being pulled into roles

In somatic terms, this means leading from the spine, not the story.

Holding Space Without Being Pulled In: The Integrative Presence of the Helper

Embodied neutrality amid relational projections.

In relational work, the triangle is not just enacted by clients—it seeks to recruit the practitioner. Helpers are not immune to the dynamics of Victim, Rescuer, and Persecutor. In fact, the very structure of helping can invite these roles: the client arrives with need; the helper offers structure; a rupture occurs—and suddenly, the projection shifts.

The question is not if this happens, but how we meet it.

The Pull of Projection: Role-Casting and the Helper’s Body

Projective identification, a concept developed in psychodynamic theory (Bion, 1962; Tuccillo, 2016), describes a process in which one person unconsciously induces another to feel or enact disowned parts of themselves. In trauma work, this often manifests as the client pulling the helper into complementary roles:

The “Rescuer” is demanded, then rejected.

The “Persecutor” is cast when the helper sets a boundary.

The “Victim” role flips, and the helper feels blamed, shamed, or helpless.

In these moments, the triangle re-enacts itself through the therapeutic relationship.

Relational neuroscientists like Cozolino (2014) emphasize that these processes are neurobiological, not just psychological. The helper’s autonomic nervous system is drawn into co-dysregulation. The body becomes tense, breath shortens, thoughts race, and clarity collapses.

This is why embodied awareness is not optional—it is a prerequisite for ethical presence.

Embodied Boundaries: The Axis as Anchor

To remain clear and available, the helper must engage what I call the integrated axis: a body-based alignment of ground, spine, and relational intention. This is not stiffness or emotional withdrawal—it is regulated presence.

Practically, this means:

Feeling one’s feet on the floor and sensing internal weight.

Maintaining awareness of breath, especially during tension.

Softening the gaze without collapsing into fusion.

Staying connected to one’s own emotional tone without merging.

These somatic anchors allow the helper to withstand the intensity of projection without collapsing into roles.

Stephen Porges (2011) underscores that ventral vagal regulation is the foundation of co-regulation: the ability to remain calm and attuned, even under stress, creates conditions for others to regulate through us. This is not performative neutrality—it is biological containment.

Leading Without Dominating: The Ethic of Regulated Authority

Helpers must sometimes hold the line. They must say “no,” mirror back unconscious dynamics, or offer interpretations that are not immediately welcomed. In these moments, the risk of being cast as Persecutor is high.

Dacher Keltner (2016) cautions that power, when unanchored, leads to disconnection. But regulated, compassionate authority—what he calls “dignified influence”—has the opposite effect. It increases trust and cooperation, especially when delivered through calm, embodied presence.

This is supported by research on therapeutic leadership. Hogue & Liddle (2009) found that therapists who exhibited authoritative structure with relational warmth (clear boundaries + empathy) achieved better outcomes, especially with high-conflict youth. The body, in this case, is part of the intervention.

Somatic Countertransference: Feeling Without Losing

Practitioners must also attend to somatic countertransference—the physical and emotional states that arise in response to clients. This includes:

sudden fatigue

shallow breath or holding

heat, tension, or collapse in specific areas

urges to fix, confront, or withdraw

Rather than pathologizing these sensations, they can be used diagnostically—as signals of projection or entanglement. As Rothschild (2006) notes, the body of the therapist is “the instrument” of trauma work and must be tuned and cared for accordingly.

Supervision, movement practices, and regulation rituals are essential here—not as self-care clichés, but as structural supports for ethical embodiment.

Mirror and Challenge: The Dual Function of Presence

Ultimately, the integrative helper is not neutral in the sense of passive. They are dynamic mirrors, reflecting the system back without colluding. They are also challenge points—bodies that do not bend to old patterns but instead invite new ones.

This requires:

Grounded empathy without rescuing.

Compassionate challenge without domination.

Self-containment without emotional withdrawal.

These capacities are not traits—they are trainable, embodied skills. And they are essential for any practitioner working with clients who reenact power games as survival.

Systems of Suppression: Social Mirrors of the Triangle

Trauma, hierarchy, and the embodied reproduction of power games

What we call interpersonal power games are often symptoms of larger systems.

The triangle—Victim, Rescuer, Persecutor—is not only a psychological or relational construct. It is a sociopolitical narrative architecture, reenacted daily in institutions, ideologies, and cultural scripts. These roles are not confined to individuals; they are assigned, inherited, and systemically reinforced.

Collective Trauma and the Repetition of Power Logic

Trauma does not only affect individuals—it affects communities, nations, and generations. According to de la Barca et al. (2024), collective trauma operates like a hidden code in society: unprocessed historical wounds shape how we relate, govern, and define identity.

In such societies:

Groups position themselves as perpetual victims of history.

Others are cast as persecutors (enemies, oppressors, traitors).

States, religions, or institutions assume the role of “rescuers,” often reinforcing dependency or control.

This is the triangle on a grand scale.

Importantly, the nervous system of a society mirrors the nervous system of a person: when dysregulated, it defaults to survival roles. Sociologist Michael G. Flaherty (2017) describes how cultural scripts of helplessness and redemptive saviorism shape public discourse. News cycles, social media, and even activism can unconsciously perpetuate the drama structure, especially when driven by unresolved collective grief or fear.

Institutions as Trauma Holders

Public systems—education, justice, health, welfare—often inherit unexamined trauma dynamics. For instance:

Authoritarian institutions may play the Persecutor role, enforcing compliance through threat, surveillance, or exclusion.

Charity models can reinforce the Rescuer role, keeping marginalized populations in passive Victim status rather than enabling agency.

Victim-centric rhetoric (when misused) may disincentivize personal and structural transformation, creating moral dominance based on injury.

These institutional behaviors are not moral failings—they are embodied patterns of systemic dysregulation.

Trauma researcher Judith Herman (2015) noted that “social institutions tend to replicate the dynamics of abuse when accountability is absent.” This means trauma is not only present in the people who suffer, but in the structures that surround them. The body politic, like the human body, seeks homeostasis—but may do so through dysfunctional means.

The Cost of Role Fixation: Identity as Narrative Loop

At the heart of systemic repetition is fixation—when a collective, like an individual, becomes over-identified with one corner of the triangle. Some common patterns include:

Victim identity as moral authority: groups or movements that use injury as their only legitimizing discourse

Rescuer identity as superiority: institutional saviorism that infantilizes those it aims to help

Persecutor identity as control-through-fear: nationalistic or populist strategies that externalize blame

In all cases, the triangle becomes a closed circuit of unresolved pain.

Cultural theorists like Sara Ahmed (2004) have argued that pain can become a currency of belonging in modern identity politics. Without somatic integration and relational repair, groups may form around shared grievance without mobilizing toward collective healing.

From Control to Co-Regulation: Reimagining Power Collectively

If we accept that societies are bodies, and institutions are nervous systems, then healing requires new regulatory practices. These may include:

Public rituals of grief and repair (e.g., truth commissions, ceremonial acknowledgements of injustice)

Trauma-informed leadership (e.g., incorporating polyvagal awareness in governance, education, justice systems)

Narrative reframing that honors pain without turning it into permanent identity

Somatic civic practices: community-based bodywork, movement rituals, and collective regulation in times of crisis

Such practices are not symbolic; they are neurologically meaningful. As Porges (2021) and van der Kolk (2014) both asserts, felt safety—not ideological agreement—is the precondition for empathy and transformation.

This also requires shifting our understanding of power: from dominance over to presence with. From fixing to witnessing. From rescuing to co-regulating.

A Bio-Systemic View of Social Change

In a bio-systemic framework, social transformation involves:

Neuro: creating conditions for collective safety and regulation.

Psycho: rewriting internalized power narratives through truth-telling and reconnection.

Socio: redesigning systems to support equity without reproducing the triangle.

It is not enough to know the problem. We must embody the alternative.

As practitioners, leaders, and citizens, our task is not only to help individuals out of the triangle, but to model and build relational systems that do not require it to function. This begins in the body, and it extends to every room we shape—whether therapeutic, educational, civic, or communal.

Practices of Exit: Somatic Tools for Individuals, Practitioners, and Leaders

From embodied entanglement to conscious, regulated presence

The exit from power games is not a dramatic leap. It is a practice—repeated, subtle, and deeply physical. The triangle is maintained by unexamined roles, but also by unchallenged somatic habits. Stepping out begins when the body begins to choose differently.

This chapter offers structured somatic tools for three interconnected roles: the individual navigating personal dynamics, the practitioner holding space, and the leader shaping systems. Each section includes micro-practices and postural principles grounded in trauma-informed neuroscience, relational psychology, and body-based wisdom.

1. For Individuals: From Narrative Helplessness to Embodied Agency

Core challenge: Feeling trapped in stories of powerlessness or reactivity, often reinforced by chronic somatic states (collapse, hyperactivation, emotional fusion).

Practices:

Grounding Scan (2 min)
Stand barefoot or sit with feet flat. Notice: where do I feel my weight? Is it evenly distributed? Can I sense the floor supporting me?
This practice strengthens the sense of stability and counteracts dorsal vagal collapse.

Axis Line Activation
With a soft inhale, lengthen the crown of the head upwards and feel the base of the spine rooted. Let the spine stretch without tension.
This activates the body's midline and reclaims vertical presence.

Power Narrative Reframe
Write down a repeated complaint or helpless story. Then ask:
What am I trying to protect with this story?
What strength do I not yet feel safe using?

Movement Discharge
Choose a safe, rhythmic movement (e.g., walking, pushing against a wall, expressive dance) for 3–5 minutes while breathing deeply.
This metabolizes stored activation and releases unexpressed energy.

Postural Mantra:
"I do not need to collapse to be seen. I do not need to dominate to be safe. I can stand."

2. For Practitioners: Holding the Mirror Without Entering the Triangle

Core challenge: Being pulled into projected roles (Rescuer, Persecutor) by clients or group systems, and losing somatic neutrality under pressure.

Practices:

Therapeutic Axis Check (before/after session)
- Ground: Feel feet.
- Breath: Exhale fully, then notice the next inhale.
- Boundaries: Sense where your body ends—can you feel your skin?
  This builds a somatic boundary without emotional withdrawal.

Projection Recognition Questions
When triggered by a client’s reaction, pause and ask:
Is this emotion mine, or am I carrying someone else’s unmet need?
Am I being invited into a role I don’t consent to?

Co-Regulation via Pace
Slow down your own rhythm—speech, movement, breath.
This activates the client’s mirror neurons (Iacoboni, 2009) and supports down-regulation.

Role Visualization Reset
After a session with role confusion, draw the triangle and place each participant’s perceived position. Then mark your desired location (outside the shape) and breathe into that position.

Postural Mantra:
"I do not enter the triangle. I reflect it. I do not rescue. I hold."

3. For Leaders: Commanding Without Controlling, Guiding With Presence

Core challenge: Leading under pressure without replicating oppressive structures; maintaining structure and clarity without suppressing dialogue or co-regulation.

Practices:

Embodied Briefing (before speaking or meeting)
- Ground: Feel both feet.
- Axis: Breathe into the spine.
- Intention: Name your core leadership value silently (e.g., “clarity,” “trust”).
  This aligns the internal state with external action.

Nonverbal Space Reading
Enter a room or group and sense:
Where is the tension held? Who avoids eye contact?
What part of the room feels collapsed, dominant, or frozen?
Adjust your body orientation to offer balance—not control.

Somatic Conflict Response
When challenged, practice:
- Open chest (don’t fold arms)
- Soft eyes (don’t glare)
- Breath before response (don’t rush to fix)
  This prevents reactive dominance and invites trust.

Power-to vs. Power-over Check
After a decision or conflict, reflect:
Did my action increase others' agency or reinforce dependence?
Was I leading from spine or from tension?

Postural Mantra:
"I lead from my axis. I hold the room without owning it. I am strong enough to listen."

Power is a Practice

The triangle dissolves not through resistance, but through re-patterning. Every breath that grounds, every step that aligns with inner axis, every choice not to rescue or control—these are acts of power reclamation. Whether in the therapy room, the family system, or the boardroom, the same principle applies:

Power is not dominance. Power is embodied presence.

Redefining Power through the Body, the Relationship, and the Collective

Toward somatic sovereignty and relational clarity.

Power, in most cultures, has long been defined in oppositional terms: control versus submission, strength versus weakness, leader versus follower. But beneath these binaries lies a deeper reality—one the body remembers, even if the culture forgets.

Power is not dominance. It is coherence.

When we are coherent—when our breath aligns with our spine, our speech with our values, our actions with our nervous system—we become trustworthy to ourselves and to others. We regulate instead of reacting. We lead without domination. We challenge without rupture. We love without rescue.

This is not a metaphor. It is a physiological and relational skill set, grounded in the science of co-regulation (Porges, 2011), the psychology of secure functioning (Siegel, 2020), and the ethics of embodied authority (Cozolino, 2014; Keltner, 2016).

The Triangle is Not the Enemy—But It Is Not a Home

The Victim–Rescuer–Persecutor triangle is not an evil construct. It is a survival map. It offered order when chaos reigned, roles when identity was fragmented, and strategy when safety was out of reach.

But no matter how many times we spin the triangle, it never leads to freedom.

Freedom begins when we recognize the structure—not to reject it, but to step out of it with our body, breath, and relational presence. This is somatic sovereignty: the ability to hold our own center without needing to dominate or collapse.

Power as a Relational Field

Throughout this study, we have argued that power is not an internal trait or external position—it is a dynamic relational field. It emerges between bodies, in the nervous systems that signal safety or threat, in the micro-choices of gaze, tone, posture, and pacing.

The implications are vast:

In therapy, we must tune the body, not only the interpretation.

In leadership, we must lead from the spine, not the script.

In society, we must build systems that support regulation, not role fixation.

These are not abstract ideals. They are practices—and they begin in the smallest moments: the pause before reply, the breath during tension, the refusal to enter the triangle even when invited.

A Final Invitation

To those navigating power dynamics in themselves:
You are not broken. You adapted. And you can choose again—from your body outward.

To practitioners:
You are not there to fix. You are there to reflect, to hold, and to remain sovereign in presence.

To leaders:
The strongest space-holder is the one who does not need to prove strength. Lead with regulation, not reaction.

Power redefined is power returned—to the body, the relationship, and the collective.

This is not just healing. It is transformation.

How do you encounter these roles in your life or practice? Leave a comment or share this with someone who might relate.

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