Recovering from domestic abuse is an ongoing journey that requires support, and one outlet that is helping survivors move through it is therapeutic dance…
The impact of domestic abuse (DA) can’t be overstated. According to the National Centre for Domestic Violence, every 30 seconds in the UK, a domestic abuse related call is made to police, and while one in every three victims is male, women are disproportionately affected – they’re more likely to experience repeat victimisation, and be physically injured.
Recovery is a lifelong process that requires multifaceted, trauma-informed support – from finding safe housing to rebuilding emotional safety, and addressing the long-term mental health consequences. Unfortunately, there’s no one-size-fits-all response to survivors’ mental health needs, with women often requiring access to multiple services over time.
But one organisation is providing a unique and uplifting space for women to recover: The Dandelion Project. Founded by domestic abuse survivor and trauma-aware movement coach Fi Bool, the project combines peer support, trauma-informed movement, and community initiatives designed to aHosting in-person classes in Suffolk and Essex, the project is designed to help participants heal, rebuild self-trust, and regain confidence in their bodies.
The body keeps the score
Dancing may not be the first thing that springs to mind when you think of ways to support someone who has experienced trauma, but, as Fi explains, trauma isn’t just stored in the mind – it lives in the body, too.
“Our nervous system holds on to stress, fear, and memories long after the moment has passed. The brain can only process so much, but the body remembers everything,” says Fi.
Part of recovery can be learning to manage triggers, and, often, it’s the body that reacts when met with the memory of trauma. For example, someone may receive a message from an ex, resulting in a physical freeze, racing heart, struggling to breathe, feeling dizzy, etc.
“Dance and movement offer a way to release some of that,” says Fi, “not by talking or reliving it, but by moving through it.” This sentiment is confirmed by research from the University of Oxford, published in Biology Letters, which states that dancing with others can significantly boost feelings of social bonding, as well as have a powerful effect on pain threshold, suggesting it can lead to a release of endorphins.
“Dance uses both sides of the brain,” explains Fi. “The left side, which is responsible for logic, structure, and coordination, and the right side, which handles creativity, emotion, and expression. So while you’re moving, you’re thinking with your whole brain, and that leaves very little room for intrusive thoughts, anxiety, or overthinking. It’s a full body and mind reset.”
Freedom to choose
One of the things that sets dance apart from other forms of exercise is the sense of freedom and self-expression it offers. “You get to choose how you move, how much you give, and when to pause,” says Fi. “It’s a chance to listen to your body, and respond to it with compassion rather than judgement. It is an opportunity to empower yourself.”
For survivors who may not be ready to discuss their experiences, dance offers expression through the body, making it particularly effective for those struggling with conventional language-based therapy, as noted in the Journal of Traumatic Stress.
Additionally, all classes are centred around general movement, rather than a specific dance style. “It’s all about creative expression. Nothing fancy or performative,” Fi explains. “It might be walking, tapping fingers, a simple sway, or loud stomp. We’re reintroducing everyday movement back into the body in a way that supports recovery from trauma. It’s not about how it looks, it’s about how it feels.”

Structured support
Although freedom of movement is encouraged, classes have a weekly theme and follow a set structure, starting with grounding exercises, followed by simple movement tasks. “These then lead into a creative section. This might include props or prompts to help women explore the week’s theme within their own body, in the space, or sometimes with a partner or group,” says Fi.
Participants are given a notebook and are encouraged to journal throughout the sessions, helping to gently reintroduce the idea of moving the body – a challenging concept for those who have experienced abuse. Sessions end with meditation, and time for social connections over a cuppa and some biscuits.
According to Fi, this communal aspect adds crucial support: “There’s something incredibly powerful about being in a room with others who just get it. Maybe they haven’t had your exact experience, but they know what it’s like to navigate the legal system, to survive coercive control, or to raise children on your own while holding everything together,” says Fi. “That shared understanding without needing to explain, is what makes the space feel so validating and supportive.”
Addressing system gaps
This innovative approach to recovery is particularly vital given the current state of mental health services for survivors. In 2019, a report by UK charity SafeLives documented how austerity has created long waiting lists for survivors, while strict eligibility criteria means they often ‘bounce’ between services, repeatedly retelling traumatic experiences.
The Dandelion Project addresses these needs through small group sizes, two facilitators plus a mental health support worker at every session, and thorough surveys to understand participant needs. There’s no expectation of being ‘healed’, and expression through movement is valued as a form of communication, alongside optional verbal sharing.
The ripple effect
Some of the most profound shifts happen beyond the studio. “One woman in our Survivor Steps programme was able to use some of the tools we practice, particularly around breathing and grounding, to overcome the intense anxiety she felt walking into court,” says Fi. “Not only did she manage to walk in with confidence, but she delivered her spoken word testimony for the first time – something she never thought she’d be able to do.
“For survivors, where daily life can feel volatile – even if it’s not because of the perpetrator directly, but related to the legal process, child maintenance services, or parenting pressure – being able to stop that spiral is huge.”
When asked about her perspective on recovery, Fi offers a refreshing viewpoint: “We don’t really talk about healing as a destination at The Dandelion Project. I’m not sure you can ever truly heal from what you go through. [...] Trauma changes your chemistry, it changes the way you show up in the world. So, for us, it’s about rediscovery, about remembering who you are underneath everything you’ve survived.”

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