A few weeks ago, I had the chance to tie someone for her very first Shibari session.
We talked beforehand, as always.
Boundaries, intentions, safety. She seemed calm, curious, open.
Then came the first wraps, the grounding of breath. She was responsive, but a little tense — which is common for a first time.
And then I lifted her.
Her body floated. Her breath shifted. And suddenly… her pulse surged, her breathing became shallow.
I felt it. That moment. The body reacting to something unspoken.
I brought her down slowly, cradled her, and asked softly:
“What’s there? What’s this knot in your throat?”
She closed her eyes, and tears appeared — not as panic, not as fear, but as something breaking open from deep within.
She whispered, “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t think it would block me. I didn’t even know it was still there.”
We stayed in silence. I held her. And her body, slowly, released what her mind didn’t have words for.
That night, after she left, I sat down and asked myself:
What just happened?
Why does this keep showing up in rope work?
What is this thing we call emotional release — and what does science say about it?
So I began to research.
And what I found was beautiful.
Emotional release is the process where intense or suppressed feelings emerge — sometimes through tears, trembling, breath, or sudden stillness.
In psychology, this is sometimes referred to as catharsis: a moment of internal clearing, often followed by relief, peace, or integration.
While many associate emotional release with therapy or trauma work, it also occurs during dance, breathwork, touch, intimacy… and yes — Shibari.
But how? And why?
Modern neuroscience has helped explain how the body stores emotional memory.
The limbic system — particularly the amygdala — plays a major role in emotional processing.
It doesn’t think, it reacts. It responds to sensory input, context, tone.
And when it perceives a safe enough space… it lets go.
When the body is tied — especially with breath, rhythm, trust — the nervous system shifts.
Sometimes, this shift releases what has been held.
Studies like The Neurobiology of Human Crying (Gračanin et al., 2018) suggest that crying itself is a regulatory response, involving both sympathetic and parasympathetic systems.
It’s not a failure. It’s a natural release of accumulated stress, grief, or emotion.
Several elements specific to Shibari make emotional release particularly possible:
1. Physical Sensation and Endorphins
The pressure of the rope, the texture against skin, and the embrace of suspension all affect the nervous system.
Endorphins, dopamine, oxytocin — the neurochemistry of trust and surrender — flood the system. This state allows deeper layers to surface.
2. Trust and Vulnerability
Being tied requires consent and surrender. If done with care, the person tied feels seen, held, supported — even without words.
And it’s often in this rare emotional safety that what is held finally moves.
3. Presence and Mindfulness
Shibari slows everything down.
The rhythm of tying becomes meditative.
This stillness creates the same state targeted in many mindfulness-based therapies — known to improve access to internal sensations and emotion regulation.
4. Symbolism and Projection
Being tied can carry unconscious meaning: letting go of control, being held, being powerless, being cared for.
In this symbolic space, the emotional body meets the physical moment — and what emerges is sometimes unexpected, but deeply real.
Not all emotional release is dramatic.
Sometimes it’s a deep sigh.
Sometimes it’s quiet crying.
Sometimes, it’s an inexplicable sense of lightness after the ropes come off.
People have reported:
And as I’ve learned over time, it’s not always possible to predict when or with whom it will happen.
But when it does, it must be held with care.
As someone who offers sessions, I never seek emotional release.
But I prepare for it.
I always leave time after the ropes are off.
To breathe. To hold. To not rush.
Because release without integration can feel raw, even frightening.
This is not therapy.
But it can be deeply therapeutic.
As Andy Buru wrote in his piece Things to Know About Trauma When Tying Ropes:
“You are not responsible for someone’s trauma. But you are responsible for the space you create.”
Emotional release can be healing — but it’s not a cure.
And it’s not appropriate to force, chase, or expect it.
For people with complex trauma, Shibari should be approached gently and, ideally, alongside other forms of support (therapy, somatic work, etc.).
A few simple rules protect everyone:
The rope can open doors.
But what’s behind those doors is sacred — and must be treated as such.
What I’ve come to understand is this:
Rope doesn’t just hold bodies.
Sometimes, it holds the things we didn’t know needed to be held.
And when the body is ready,
when the space is safe,
when the breath finally slows…
Then comes the release.
Not always loud.
Not always visible.
But always real.
Let it come.
Hold it with grace.
And know that this, too, is part of the art.
This is an invitation to those who yearn to feel more, to trust deeper, and to meet themselves anew.