Nerve injury from shibari is a real risk as a rope bottom. Whether you get tied on the ground or do suspensions, adding pressure or stretch to the body by applying ropes carries a risk of peripheral nerves getting compressed or overstretched . This can lead to injury and might result in reduced mobility, loss of strength and/or changes to skin sensation.
A quick poll in my rope bottom online circles showed that 78 percent of people who get tied have experienced a nerve injury. (This somewhat unscientific Instagram poll had 120 respondents. Of those with a nerve injury, 57 percent had skin sensation loss, seven percent had motor loss, and 36 percent had both at the same time. ) And while not being able to use your hands properly or having a numb patch on your skin can have some real practical consequences, the emotional impact of nerve injury isn’t talked about nearly enough in the shibari world.
The emotional impact of nerve injuries I had read up a lot about the risks of nerve damage when I started bottoming for shibari and was aware that it was likely a matter of when and not if, and within the first few months of bottoming, I experienced my first skin sensation loss on my thigh. Over the three years since, I’ve had patches of sensation loss on my thighs, hips, butt, shoulders, upper arms and index finger.
Skin sensation loss won’t affect your everyday life in the same way that wrist drop does, but it can be a discomforting feeling and it can take weeks or even months to return fully. While skin sensation loss is a good warning sign that something has been injured, when it’s on my lower body, I don’t worry too much about it. Different bottoms have different risk profiles and I know some take sensation loss much more seriously while others don’t care too much – even when it’s on their hands. If it’s upsetting to you and it makes you worried, you’re well within your right to feel that way. It is, after all, a sign of the body getting injured.
Not being able to lift my wrist for what felt like an eternity after the ropes came off, I had so many emotions running through my head. Disbelief. Panic. Fear of not being able to get tied again. Illustration by Ladislava Gagloyava What I hadn’t prepared for was the emotional impact of a nerve injury affecting my motor abilities. While trying out a new upper body harness with one of my main rope partners, my hand suddenly went floppy and we luckily decided to cut the rope. Not being able to lift my wrist for what felt like an eternity after the ropes came off, I had so many emotions running through my head. Disbelief. Panic. Fear of not being able to get tied again. Thankfully, my hand recovered within a few minutes, but then a week later, with another rigger, it happened again for 30 minutes.
For some months after these nerve scares, I found it hard to relax as fully in the ropes as I’d been able to before. If my hands started to feel in the slightest bit weird, I’d get anxious and start flapping them really fast, stressing myself and my riggers out. It took me several months before I began to trust my body in ropes again and I remember almost crying with happiness the first time I managed to sink into that delicious rope headspace fully once more.
Losing trust in one’s body can be even more heartbreaking than losing trust in your rigger. I felt let down by my body, instead of thanking it for sending me signals when something needs to change. After understanding what nerve compression feels like, I was able to communicate better with the people I tied with and keep myself safer – yet it somehow made me feel like a bad bottom and I often got annoyed with my body for being ‘weak’ and needing more adjusting than in my early days of getting tied. I even started to worry that people wouldn’t want to tie with me if I became known as a ‘nervy’ bottom.
Losing trust in one’s body can be even more heartbreaking than losing trust in your rigger. I felt let down by my body, instead of thanking it for sending me signals when something needs to change. Illustration by Ladislava Gagloyava For me, having close and supportive relationships with the riggers who I experienced the nerve injuries with helped me enormously to recover emotionally and trust my body again, but it still felt like such a lonely experience. I was fairly new to shibari at the time, so I didn’t know that many bottoms and I couldn’t find much info about bondage-related nerve injuries online either. It was only when I started to talk to other bottoms about my nerve injury scares that I realized that so many of us have these exact experiences and feelings after an injury or nerve scare.
Empathy and responsibility: a job for bottoms and riggers Not enough people talk about the nerve injuries they’ve experienced or been part of causing as a rigger. Nerve injury is a real risk we run when engaging in shibari and if something goes wrong, we need to be able to talk it through and support each other instead of blaming or trying to minimize incidents. When I was just a few months old in the shibari world, a rigger tried to convince me that the sensation loss I felt on my upper arm for a few weeks after they suspended me from a single tenshi was "just a strained muscle". Riggers, please don’t be that person.
Discussing what went wrong and what can be done to avoid it happening again should be the focus. I recommend always telling the rigger about any nerve injuries, no matter how small. It’s in their interest to learn and will help to keep your body safer in the long run. Experiencing nerve injuries isn’t fun, but it can be a great opportunity to learn about your body and could bring you much closer to the person you’re tying with. Ahead of writing this article, I spoke to so many bottoms who felt that as awful as it was to have a nerve injury, it had actually helped them understand their bodies better and ultimately improved their tying relationships.
I spoke to so many bottoms who felt that as awful as it was to have a nerve injury, it had actually helped them understand their bodies better and ultimately improved their tying relationships.
Knowing that my tying partner was happy to cut the rope when I had acute nerve compression increased the trust between us. She’s been great at figuring out where my radial gets irritated in which position and adjusts the rope quickly. The fact that I’ve learned how to read my body really well and can communicate when my nerves are getting irritated means that my rope partners feel safer when we tie, and we can have deeper and more intense sessions together.
Reducing the risk of nerve injuries in shibari Learning what is ‘normal’ and what could be a sign of nerve compression takes time. Nerve compression symptoms can be very individual and might feel different to you than it does for another bottom. For me, radial compression on my arms and hands shows up as a numb feeling on top of my thumb and index finger; ulnar nerve compression manifests as my pinky and ring finger going numb all over. I’ve also talked to many other bottoms who describe their nerve compression sensation as a burning sensation, pain and a "snapping" or "electric" feeling.
Loss of strength and mobility are other signs of nerve compression. Indicators of nerve compression tend to come on more suddenly, whereas blood circulation loss – which is usually less of a cause for concern – comes on more gradually. However, as important as knowing how you might distinguish between the two is knowing that this will not hold true in every case, so always tell the rigger of any unusual sensations in your hands, fingers and arms. (Watch Ms Reemah & Anansi’s Masterclass: Nerve Compression Management for a real-time example of tying partners addressing nerve compression during a tie.)
Central to being able to identify nerve compression is learning how to do hand checks during a tie to check your mobility (you can find a great free Hand Checks tutorial from Fuoco here). A word of caution: despite checking your hands and having great body awareness, nerve injuries can happen suddenly and without warning.
If you experience a nerve injury or you’re a ‘nervy’ bottom who frequently feels your nerves getting impinged, please don’t blame yourself or your body. Your body is unique and there will be harnesses and styles of tying that will work better for you than others. Illustration by Ladislava Gagloyava If you experience a nerve injury or you’re a ‘nervy’ bottom who frequently feels your nerves getting impinged, please don’t blame yourself or your body. Your body is unique and there will be harnesses and styles of tying that will work better for you than others. Some harnesses have a worse reputation as being riskier than others, but all rope carries some risk. For me, TKs (hands-in-the-back box-ties) work great when well tied, whereas I’ve experienced temporary wrist drop from both a tengu and a hands-in-front harness. Some people find that their nerves don’t get as stressed in dynamic styles, whereas other people feel that they can notice their bodies more in static rope.
Most importantly, when trying something new the risks are always higher, so please go slow, listen to your body and communicate.
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