What Is Somatic Healing, And Is It Right For You?
"Ironically, we are all too often educated out of rather than into an awareness of the body." — Jean Houston
I was first introduced to this quote in massage school, and it stopped me cold. The moment I read it, I knew it was true because I had experienced examples of its truth throughout massage school.
Here's what I mean.
During my training, we practiced on each other constantly. And I began to notice something I couldn't explain at first: when a classmate worked on one area of my body, I would feel a particular emotion rise up. When they moved to a different area, the emotion shifted entirely. Sometimes what came up surprised me. Sometimes it undid me a little. But every time, it was undeniable.
I was stunned. Not in a vague, philosophical way; viscerally stunned. This was the first time I could feel, in real time, that there was a true and living connection between the physical body and the emotional one. Not a concept. Not a theory. A sensation.
My teachers used to say: "Your issues are in your tissues."
I use that line to this day. Because I have never found a more accurate description of what somatic healing actually is.
What Talk Therapy Can and Can't Do
Before I go further, let me say this clearly: talk therapy is valuable. Genuinely. I've done it myself, and many of my clients have done years of it. That work matters. I am not here to throw therapy under the bus.
But here is what I have observed, in my practice and in my own life: the mind can understand something completely. It can name it, contextualize it, and trace it back to its roots. And the body can still be holding it as if none of that conversation ever happened.
I saw this early in my practice with a client who was navigating two of the top five life stressors simultaneously: retiring from a long career and preparing to move out of state. On the surface, they were handling it. Intellectually, they knew this was a positive transition. And yet every single morning they woke up in significant body pain — pain I could relieve on the table, but that kept returning like clockwork.
I started asking questions. About sleep. About their position when they slept. About what was happening in their body in those early morning hours before they were fully awake.
And something remarkable surfaced. They recalled being told that they had nearly died at birth. And they realized that the position they had instinctively and unconsciously begun sleeping in — the one that seemed to be triggering their pain — was the same position they had slept in as an infant to self-soothe during that early distress.
Their anxiety about this current life transition was reaching back through decades of stored memory and activating a visceral response to the very first transition they had ever made: from the womb into the world.
The moment they made that connection, the moment their body and their understanding finally met each other, their sleeping pattern changed. And their pain disappeared.
That is what the body holds. That is what talk therapy, on its own, often cannot reach.
My understanding deepened further during the years I worked with women trying to conceive; a season that overlapped my own conception journey, and eventually, my own grief around letting that dream go. I felt so much anger toward my body during that time. So much betrayal. And I recognized, with a clarity that was almost uncomfortable, that it was probably very difficult to conceive when I felt that negatively toward the very body I was asking to carry a child.
I began to see that same distress in my clients. And I began to coach them, not just how to receive bodywork, but how to feel what they were trying to stuff. To move through the emotion rather than manage it. To advocate for themselves in the situations that were quietly crushing them: other people's baby showers, the relentless baby talk, the well-meaning questions that landed like small injuries.
What I noticed, over and over, was this: when my clients were able to actually feel what they had been working so hard not to feel, something shifted. Their bodies relaxed their grip. And more than a few of them got pregnant more readily than anyone had expected.
The body was not the obstacle. The body was the doorway.
And if that was true for them, and for me, I have to believe it might be true for you, too.
So What Is Somatic Healing, Actually?
Bear with me for a moment. I'm going to get a little textbook here, because this part actually matters.
The word "somatic" comes from the Greek soma, meaning body. Somatic healing is simply the practice of including the body — its sensations, its responses, its stored memory — in the emotional healing process.
Most of us have been taught to navigate our emotional lives primarily through the mind. We think about our feelings. We analyze them. We talk about them. And there is real value in that. But we have three brains, not one. We have the head, the heart, and the gut. And when we leave two of them out of the conversation, we're working with a fraction of our own intelligence.
Somatic healing brings the whole of you into the room.
What It Looks Like in Practice
This isn't abstract. Here is what it actually looks like when we work together.
If we're in a coaching session and something lands somewhere in you, you might notice if your throat tightens, your chest closes, your stomach drops, etc. I'll pause and ask: where are you feeling that in your body? We'll follow that sensation. We'll breathe into it. We'll let it tell us what it came to say. And more often than not, as the emotion finds its voice, it begins to move through rather than staying stuck.
If you're on the massage table and a particular area of your body responds with more than just physical sensation… EX: An emotion surfaces, a memory stirs, or something unexpected rises up… I'll pause the bodywork. I'll ask the same questions. I'll apply gentle pressure to the area where the sensation is living, and we'll work with it together. Often, the emotion softens as the muscle releases. The body and the feeling move in tandem because they were never actually separate.
And if you're in a breathwork session and something big moves through you like grief, rage, relief, whatever has been waiting, I'll invite you to make sound, to shake your arms and legs, to let the energy move out of your body rather than tightening around it. Afterward, we'll talk about what came through.
This is what somatic healing looks like. Not mysterious. Not woo-woo. Deeply, practically human.
Is This Right for You?
There's a reason more and more people are turning toward practices that work below the neck. Practices like breathwork, plant medicine, somatic therapy, body-centered coaching, and conscious movement. We have spent generations being educated out of our bodies, and something in us knows it. Something in us is hungry to come back.
This work is for you if you've done the talking, maybe a lot of it, and something still feels unfinished. If you know, intellectually, that you're okay, but your body hasn't gotten the memo. If you feel cut off from yourself, and you're not entirely sure when that happened.
It is not a replacement for therapy. It is not a quick fix. It is an invitation to include the part of you that has been patiently waiting for a seat at the table.
Your body has been trying to tell you something. Somatic healing is simply learning how to listen.
If you've read this far, something in you is already paying attention. And I want you to know that counts. You don't have to have it figured out. You don't have to know exactly what you need or whether you're "ready." You just have to be willing to get a little curious about what your body has been holding.
That's enough. That's actually plenty.
If something in this is stirring in you, pay attention to that. And when you're ready (not before), I'd love to have a conversation. No pressure, no pitch. Just two people talking about what might be possible.