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Trigger warning: mention of sexual pain and eating disorder.
This is not a book review, although I do think it’s a great book.
The word ‘embodiment’ has been a buzzword for a while, but I truly and deeply adore it. I am ecstatic that this word exists because it describes so perfectly what is otherwise an abstract feeling, or rather, action, something too big for words, something you have to experience to be able to explain it.
For 33 + years, I lived heavily in my mind. Even though I had something that I would act on that my friends and family called ‘impulsiveness’ or ‘emotions’, which I now know to be my intuition, I was limited in my endeavours and not truly free.
This was partly due to simply not knowing better and partly due to my conservative Christian upbringing. One of the many things Christianity robbed me of is the connection to my body and, therefore, to the core of me.
I was taught to ignore the signs of my body, to ignore my feelings, my judgment, to outsource all of it and ‘trust the Lord’.
So I completely dissociated from my body, mostly living and acting from my rational mind.
The time I spent in talking therapy was something I really loved and needed. Talking to a professional makes you aware of things that are hidden. But I realised it just isn’t enough. What do you do with all that awareness that is floating on the surface now?
Trauma is held in the body, in the memory of our DNA, our cells remember what happened to us and the ones before us.
Last year I had the strong desire and feeling like I needed to support myself with more structure on this healing journey and contemplated going back to therapy. But I felt it in my bones that it wouldn’t be talking therapy. That this time, that would not cut it.
You cannot talk or think yourself out of trauma, because it also lives in the body.
But how do you engage with your body when for so so long it was an unsafe place to be in?
The answer is gently, slowly and incrementally.
My embodiment journey started when I attended a seminar about menstrual health at the age of 32.
That day I learned about the four seasons of my cycle and what they mean, how to track it and understand its signs, how to embrace my cycle as something good and not a nuisance, and how to align my life, work, eating, sex and relationships with my natural cycle.
This was the beginning of a whole new life and understanding. A door that opened so much more for me.
My body was already naturally dictating a rhythm for me: The more I lined up my life with it, the better I felt. The less pain I had, especially during bleeding. If I did my work on the best days to get work done during my cycle, I was a lot more productive. I was happier during social engagements and when spending time alone when I started doing those in alignment with my body’s rhythm. All I had to do was listen to her and arrange everything around her rhythm where possible.
After my divorce, I slowly began to heal my relationship with my sexuality. For all of my life, that has been a big pain point. Figuratively and literally.
Sex was tied to shame, fear and guilt, even after I got married, which, when you grow up evangelical, is the right of passage to finally have sex, and you’re supposed to have a great sex life right away, even though you had to ignore your sexual nature up until that point.
Again, gently and slowly, I started healing that part of me, internally, in therapy, and externally, with soothing exercises, mindful masturbation, and finally having pain-free sex. This has been one of the most freeing and joyful journeys for me.
This January, I started Somatic therapy, and it had an enormous impact on me. It is, without a doubt or exaggeration, one of the most life changing things I have ever done.