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emotional-healing

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For centuries, women and those embodying the feminine have been told we are either “too much” or “not enough.” This feeling is more than just an emotional experience – it’s a deeply rooted societal wound, passed down through generations, woven into the fabric of our cultures, and etched into our hearts. We’ve been told to shrink, to suppress, and to conform, all while striving for an impossible ideal that seems forever out of reach.

But the truth is: we were never “too much” and we were always enough.

The Historical Roots of “Too Much” and “Not Enough”
The struggle with these labels is nothing new. Historically, women have been defined by strict societal roles, where any deviation from the norm was met with disapproval or outright rejection. In the Victorian era, women were expected to be quiet, demure, and delicate. Any display of emotion, assertiveness, or strength was labelled as “hysteria,” a term derived from the Greek word hysteria, meaning uterus. This association of women’s emotions with irrationality further reinforced the idea that femininity was something to be controlled and subdued.

In ancient Greece, Aristotle argued that women were inherently inferior to men because of their emotional and irrational nature. Men were seen as the logical, stable force in society, while women’s sensitivity was viewed as a threat to order. This idea persisted for centuries, manifesting in various cultural and religious doctrines, which have shaped the way femininity is still perceived today.

Even as women gained more rights and freedoms over the years, the expectation to be everything at once – to be nurturing but not overly emotional, successful but not too ambitious, independent but still dependent – remained. We were either “too much” – too sensitive, too emotional, too loud – or “not enough” – not strong enough, not successful enough, not capable enough.

The impact of this constant push and pull is profound. Psychologically, it creates a pervasive sense of inadequacy that can lead to perfectionism, anxiety, and burnout. Many women, especially those who are highly sensitive or embody the feminine, internalise the belief that they are either taking up too much space or not living up to impossible expectations.

As Brene Brown so powerfully says, “You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.” This need to hustle for worthiness – to constantly prove that we are enough – is something many of us can relate to. It’s a constant performance, where we sacrifice our true selves for external validation. And yet, no matter how much we give or how hard we try, there’s always the lingering fear that we will never be enough.

The statistics reflect this emotional burden. According to the World Health Organization, women are more likely to experience anxiety and depression than men. This is no surprise when you consider the societal pressures to be everything to everyone while still maintaining a certain image. The pressure to be the “perfect” woman, mother, friend, or professional is overwhelming and often leads to chronic stress, fatigue, and a sense of failure.

But here’s the truth: our emotions, our sensitivity, our softness—these are not weaknesses. These are our greatest strengths. What society has long told us to hide or diminish is precisely what makes us powerful. Sensitivity is a superpower, and our emotional depth is a gift that allows us to connect with others on a profound level.

As Elaine Aron, the pioneering researcher of Highly Sensitive People (HSPs), has shown, sensitivity allows for greater empathy, creativity, and intuition. Yet, in a world that prizes productivity and resilience above all else, these qualities are often undervalued. The narrative that sensitivity equals weakness is a lie we’ve been told to keep us from standing fully in our power.

In her groundbreaking book Untamed, Glennon Doyle writes, “The truest, most beautiful life never promises to be an easy one. We need to let go of the expectations of society and embrace the beauty of our true selves.” This is the call to undo the narrative that tells us we are too much. It’s time to reclaim our emotional depth, our intuitive knowing, and our sensitivity as the incredible strengths they are.

Part of reclaiming our “too much” is recognising the cyclical nature of the feminine. Women, and those who embody the feminine, are not linear beings. We move in cycles, just like the moon and the seasons. Yet, society has pushed us into a masculine, linear model of constant productivity, leaving us disconnected from our natural rhythms and exhausted from the effort.

This is where we can begin the work of undoing the narrative. By reconnecting with our natural selves and embracing the ebb and flow of our emotions, we can dismantle the belief that we have to constantly hustle or prove our worth.

Breathwork, mindfulness, and slowing down are powerful tools in this process. By returning to our breath and tuning into our bodies, we can create space to reconnect with who we truly are – not who society tells us we should be. In these moments of stillness, we can hear the quiet voice inside that says, “You are enough.”

Undoing the narrative of “too much” and “not enough” requires both personal and collective work. It means challenging the voices in our heads that tell us to shrink ourselves or hustle for approval. It means creating space for our sensitivity and emotions, even when the world tells us they are inconvenient or unproductive.

And it means standing together in solidarity with other women, knowing that our strength lies in our connection to one another and our willingness to embrace the fullness of who we are. As Simone de Beauvoir said, “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” This journey of becoming is about reclaiming our wholeness—our sensitivity, our intuition, our strength, and our softness.

The world needs the fullness of our feminine power. Our “too much” is exactly what is required to heal a world that has become disconnected from empathy, intuition, and the natural cycles of life. By stepping into our power and embracing our sensitivity, we not only heal ourselves but also begin to heal the world around us.

We were never “too much,” and we were always enough. The time has come to believe it.

Naturally Lottie – Your HSP Hype Girl

To find out more about Lottie, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

Breathwork changed my life in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. For most of my life, I was a chronic overthinker, always on alert, always afraid that happiness was something fleeting, a thing that would eventually slip through my fingers. Even in moments of joy, I was braced for it to end, and in every other moment, I fought to control the world around me. From school struggles to navigating
motherhood, I felt I had to manage every little thing, and that meant controlling not only myself but everyone else around me. It was exhausting.

Raising teens was the real turning point. My children, who I loved fiercely, were not interested in living life on my terms. They were on their own journeys, with their own dreams, fears, and choices. And my efforts to control them were met with resistance and frustration—from them and, eventually, from me too. This
was the wake-up call I needed, and it became painfully clear that I couldn’t go on this way. I was drained, burnt out, and anxious. I needed something different, but I didn’t know what that was yet.

Like so many, I first turned to meditation, but it didn’t connect with me in a way that felt sustainable or transformative. Then, I found the breath.

I started with the basics—simple breathing techniques I could incorporate into my day. These techniques were my first lessons in presence and control, a way to connect with myself in a way that I hadn’t before. Bit by bit, I started to feel different, as though I was rediscovering something about myself that had long
been buried. Slowly, my relationship with control began to shift, and it was only the beginning.

Then I discovered conscious connected breathing, and my world changed again. This practice took me deeper, helping me release layers of tension and emotion that I didn’t even realize I was holding. For the first time, I began to accept myself, not as someone trying to become or achieve something different but
simply as myself. Breath by breath, I found a sense of peace, and for the first time, I could sit with who I was without judgment or expectation.

The most transformative lesson of all was acceptance. I began to let go of old wounds and beliefs I had clung to for years. I found myself re-examining experiences I had long carried as heavy burdens, questioning the meanings I had attached to them. I was rewriting the emotions and perspectives that shaped my past. Little by little, I could see these experiences as steps on the journey rather than things I had to battle or overcome.

And here I am, still evolving but finally feeling at home in my skin. The journey isn’t about becoming someone new; it’s about meeting myself as I am, with all my imperfections, strengths, and weaknesses.
Breathwork has changed my relationships with others as well. As a mother, I’ve become more accepting, more open, less controlling. I see my children for who they are, and I trust them on their paths. As a teacher, I now focus on what matters most. Connection—real, honest connection—is what truly makes an impact. In my classroom and at home, I’m more compassionate, less self-critical, and more able to embrace both myself and others without judgment.

Learning to breathe was my first step to learning to live. It’s a journey of release, acceptance, and growth. And if I can offer one insight from my experience, it would be this: the answers we seek are often not in striving but in simply being—being with ourselves, our breaths, our truths.

Marie Doherty – Empowering Women to Breathe, Thrive, and Shine.

To find out more about Marie, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

I don’t know about you but I have sometimes lost my equilibrium as I stressed over issues I cannot control in my life, or imagined negative future events. On those days I need conscious connected breathwork more than ever. It’s also on those days that I resist this work more than ever.

Before discovering breathwork, I would sit in my familiar discomfort and gradually lose more and more stability. The consequences of not dealing with my emotions would make me edgy and unsatisfied with life, and then I would wonder ‘how did I get here’?

Now I know better. I find a comfortable place to sit or lie down and I start breathing. No pauses at the top, no pauses at the bottom. The first few minutes are really uncomfortable. As I move through the layers of my mental defenses, I feel as if I am ripping through myself. My mind does not want to give up control and I want to quit. I want my familiar dark. But I push and I embrace the uncertainty of letting go of my mind. It feels risky, but I am brave. Eventually, I surrender to my body and there is no more fragmentation. I become an ocean of waves rising and collapsing into myself.

My mind and body are one, sweet consciousness experiencing itself. What the breath brings I never know until it happens. Sometimes I desire a release but it doesn’t come. Sometimes I set an intention to bring clarity or resolution to a problem, but the breath delivers clarity on something else, unrelated to what I was fussing about. When I finish, the session I am strangely whole and relieved even though my wish for a specific outcome didn’t come to be. The darkness has dissolved. The confusion is gone.

I have come to understand that sometimes in order to resolve one thing, you first have to grasp another truth, which in turn resolves the one you were concerned with. Truth unveils in layers and in a kind of order sometimes. It’s not linear and it’s not black or white. I have learned to let go of outcomes and just focus and trust the breath to illuminate what needs to be revealed. The breath knows better. There is safety in this trust.

The breath is the light, not just on your truth, but on truth itself.

Jasmina

To find out more about Jasmina take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

I never had a good relationship with my body. Growing up in Lithuania in the 90s and weighing 58kg in my teenage years, I was considered FAT by my peers. Girly magazines were overflowing with tips about dieting, staying beautiful and feminine and impressing the boys, and ideas about diversity, individuality and authenticity were not as widely discussed. Therefore I have always tried to be thinner, dieted and deprived myself since I was 13 and, of course, never felt good enough or beautiful; my environment was simply not designed for it..

The topic of weight is, of course, very closely tied with the themes of food and eating. Thinking back to my childhood and teenage years, certain foods and ways of eating come to mind. It wasn’t an affluent time so one of the most important concerns my parents must have faced was the cost of everything. However, I remember my mother cooking soup, rice and meat dishes, fish, salads, as well as buying some processed foods, such as frankfurters, fish fingers and dumplings. Another category that comes to mind was my grandmother’s and older aunts’ food. They each had signature mash, meatballs, buns, biscuits or other delicacies that were always abundantly present during family gatherings. My summers were often spent at our relatives’ home in a village where they used to make (and still do to this very day, even though they are in their 80s!) almost all of their food themselves, starting with fruit and veg, preserves, dairy, all the way to raising and slaughtering their own chickens, geese, cattle and pigs. My grandparents’ generation grew up during the time of war and its aftermath where everything, including food, was scarce, therefore their coping mechanism later in life was often to over-do, their subconscious forever preparing for survival. The associations that come to me while thinking about the foods of my childhood are “fatty”, “abundant” or even “overload”.

One thing I find unusual is that in all this abundance and process of making, I have learned very little about cooking or preserving. Sure, I was taught how to make pancakes and cottage cheese balls but that was about it.. I never questioned this, it never really entered my mind but now, while on my healing journey and thinking back to my family relationships, I find this fact rather odd. As a bigger picture, it feels like life skills haven’t been transferred into the next generation. This, in turn, poses a question what else hasn’t been transferred. And an answer to that comes to me as Stories. I have so few stories from my parents’, grandparents’ and other relatives’ lives. Why?

While pondering these questions, my mother comes to mind most readily. She was adopted as a baby and has never known her real family. Furthermore, her relationship with the adoptive family has crumbled at some point in life, so much so that the ties were severed and she wasn’t informed of her adoptive mother’s death, invited to her funeral or considered for the inheritance. Coming from this background, my mother must have felt like she doesn’t belong. Food and belonging, it seems to me, are somehow tied; “soul food”, “food for thought” are some phrases that convey that connection.

From my perspective, there are two ways a person can deal with the feeling and trauma of not belonging; by shutting down and controlling, enclosing, pushing the pain down, trapping it OR by expanding into the outer world, making new connections, creating. The latter option, even though clearly healthier, is much more difficult, especially for someone who has already been discouraged in life.

As for the family from my father’s side, their lives couldn’t have been easy either. War, poverty, a society where women have completely depended on their men who often were troubled by alcohol dependence and emotional issues. These are all my estimates and guesses; I don’t feel healed enough to have open conversations with my parents, this proves to be the very hardest task.

Having looked into the concepts that haven’t been transferred, I can name one that has; Trauma. I find it very difficult to communicate, be open and vulnerable with my parents (especially my mother), and looking them in the eye is mission impossible, and for most of my adult life – until I started reading up on trauma and how it impacts relationships – I couldn’t understand why that is.

When I started my healing journey more than 5 years ago, one of the first significant changes I made was going vegan. After being in an emotionally abusive relationship for about a decade and seeing no way out, I needed to start my self-love journey somewhere. I wanted to do something good for myself. And lead by various documentaries, social media posts and articles, I decided that going vegan was something that would make me feel healthier in my body as well as help me lead a more authentic life by actively reducing the cruelty and pain in the world. So I went from omnivore to a complete vegan overnight. This month I am celebrating my 5th Veganversary and am so grateful to be much healthier in body and soul. I also – almost accidentally – proved to myself that I can be consistent in a positive action that relates to my body; up to that point I normally used my stubbornness to reach academic or other goals.

When I started my vegan lifestyle, I didn’t realise or consider how it will set me apart from my birth family. We live in different countries and see each other once or twice a year. My wellness journey has never been forced, I played and experimented with things, over the years stopping eating wheat, then sugar, coffee and black tea, getting rid of excess possessions and leaning towards minimalism, curating my social media feed towards spirituality and body positivity, equipping myself with tons of knowledge about trauma and healing, this year implementing regular breathwork and somatic exercise practices… Those tiny little changes have unexpectedly amounted to a whole new lifestyle and mindset and each time I go back home to see my family, the contrast startles me more and more. I sometimes feel that they pity me for “depriving” myself of a nice fragrant piece of barbeque or some ice cream, while I am piling lentils into my bowl or that they judge me for other life choices. While my relationships with my family members certainly became more surface level over the years, my feeling of becoming more authentic grew. I made peace with being a black sheep but also reduced my urge to please as well as influence and control people and force on them the changes that make my life more positive as I now know that people can only change when they are ready and not a moment earlier, and also that what works for one person may not work for another. I have to mention my father as an exception here: while I feel he wasn’t strong enough to fight for his true happiness and sacrificed it for a surface level peace – or maybe it’s because of it – he always supports me in my choices. It was him who made it financially possible for me to train as a breathwork facilitator and I feel that reaching for my true authentic life and following my purpose is also honouring him. We may not often succeed in having deep conversations but I somehow know that we are on the same page nevertheless.

The controversy and perhaps even trauma related to food is present in my and my son’s relationship too. He was 4 when I became vegan. From then on, I stopped cooking meat for him. He would still eat meat with his father, at school, with his childminder and in other social environments so that wasn’t an extreme change in his diet. However, perhaps being a boy and wanting to be “like his dad”, who was eating excessive amounts of meat, my son started refusing most of the foods that I prepared for us. Any soups, stews, curries were left untouched even without tasting. That angered and scared me but perhaps more significantly than that, I felt rejected and “faulty” as a mother. There is a lingering feeling that if you reject someone’s food, you reject the person themselves, and that was how I felt. Useless. For a while, I fumed, demanded that he eats some of my food but over time I relaxed, served him fruit, veg, simple sandwiches, oat or buckwheat porridge at the times we spent together and allowed him to peacefully enjoy his father’s (he is a professional chef of more than 20 years), childminder’s amazing cooking, school meals and occasional outing at a cafe or a restaurant. Food has ceased to be a battlefield and my son now even occasionally eats my cooking and declares that “It is not so bad..”. I also make sure that we spend time in the kitchen together sometimes and cook. Now, at 9 years old, he is able to make some simple foods and his knife skills are excellent as over the years he has cut up tonnes of veg for my stews! He is also food-adventurous and enjoys eating both Lithuanian and Sri Lankan cuisines when visiting relatives in both of the countries.

I want to believe that by journeying on my own healing path as well as learning how to be a good-enough parent, I am also healing the generational trauma. I hope that we are not only being nourished by the food itself but also being pervaded by tolerance, compassion, acceptance, surrender, joy of discovery, unearthing of our own powers and abilities and the miracle of our bodies. Speaking of my own body, is is older now than it ever has been but for the first time in my life I feel genuine love for it. It is no longer a costume or a suit whose only purpose is to impress others (it never lived up to it..); it is a home, a faithful companion that carries me wherever I want to go and a dutiful servant that completes countless daily tasks for me. It makes me able to see the beauty of the world, to read, to learn, to speak my mind and express my love and – when needed – my boundaries. It literally made my son! I no longer – well, almost never, I am still learning – demean my body for being of a wrong shape or size, for having any features that don’t comply with the “social standard” and for the first time in my life I thank it daily and marvel at the perfection of its intricacy. And I feed it the best I can, with whole vegan foods as well as with love, care, compassion, consideration, boundaries, movement, breath and hundreds of other ingredients that make this life worth living.

Our beautiful author has asked to remain anonymous, but this is someone’s real story, so please do not reproduce as you cannot attribute the story to them. If you would like to leave a comment below they will see it. If you’d like to contact them, please use the contact form here on the website and I will pass your details on, leaving the choice of contact up to them.

Thank you for your understanding, it is important to me that Beyond the Breath Magazine is an inclusive space, and that includes supporting our authors as they explore their voice and their vulnerabilities. Sometimes that means publishing anonymously.

I published this anonymously in 2020, I’m now able to share this as myself.

Today I have spent the day working out how to gracefully exit this life. No food or drink has passed my lips. I know that starvation is a long and drawn-out way to exit, so that is not my graceful plan, it’s just that my throat feels closed and my breath is shallow and often held at the bottom of the exhale, as if I am willing myself to not take the next breath.

And in this disconnected state, I joined my breathwork facilitator training (camera off) as scheduled this evening, not because I wanted to, but because there was a guest speaker I admire greatly. I’m not going to mention his name, because I am probably misquoting him below and that wouldn’t be a fair reflection on him. It’s just that he spoke to my heart. Or maybe in oneness he really did tune in and speak my heart. But of course, I heard what I needed to hear, not necessarily what he said and in my fragile state they could be two very different things, so again anonymity is best!

I have wondered for some time about the concept of ‘doing the work’ and expecting to see the benefits in the map of your life. Work for reward. I suppose it feeds into my mother wound of ‘you don’t get anything without hard work’ ‘worthiness (and love) come from good behaviour’ ‘doing it right’ ‘following the rules’ ‘doing the work’, and yet, I have struggled through the weeds and the brambles of doing the right thing, many times, and the rewards appear limited and the struggle endless. The work to reward ratio unfair.

Deeper than that thought of fairness, the concept itself does not feel right. Work for Reward. From a human perspective if I have it, whatever it is, my daughter is welcome to it … all. So why is ‘the universal law’ so different?

On reflection, it feels exactly like the edge I was on when I walked away from a very indoctrinated and fully lived experience of born-again religion, the deep knowing that it wasn’t right as I saw the bible through the eyes of hierarchy, of patriarchy, of the suppression of humanness. The control – like scales removed from my eyes. But at the same time, I miss the certainty. In the beginning was the word.

Inside I am screaming, please help me, I do not want to throw the ‘spiritual’ baby out with the bathwater, again. There must be a way!

My recent inner guidance, whenever I listen, is simply to trust. Thus the ‘doing’, where I am most comfortable is at an all-time low. Self-work/exploration forms a good proportion of what I do with my days and whilst the big picture dream of my path feels so real to me that I could indeed be in the mystery of pregnancy, creating that dream, it is not possible to financially birth this sizable dream from my current activity. Then in other corners of life where that funding might have come forth, the recent twists and turns render my immediate landscape not only barren but dangerous.

I suppose this could be another wandering the desert moment, this time crying out ‘Gaia, Gaia, why have you forsaken me?’ another open wound, ‘trust of the hierarchy’ ‘greater good’ ‘truth’ but there is a wrongness there too. If wholeness is my intention, then that includes the age of Pisces, and patriarchy and control. That includes work for rewards, service for reward, lack and drought and death. But it also includes receiving and nectar and sweetness and plentiful abundance. How long is the winter? Is summer only on offer if you follow the rules? Where is the point of integrity?

With this unarticulated story resting in my body I listened, or rather I heard these 4 points of wisdom from the guest speaker.

“You can only hold space for people to the depths you are prepared to go in your own grief. As you do the work within yourself, by witnessing and allowing the grace and wisdom of the body to release the armour and then the trauma, you become able and silently transmit that ability to those who are drawn to you. And then as you continue to hear your body speaking, are you prepared to witness, to observe and inquire but not fix – yourself? To allow the wisdom of your body, our ancient ways to do that work for you. Even to leave the armour in place until it is body wise to remove it for healing and witnessing in a graceful way?”

“Can you be humble enough to have the wisdom of an elder, and perhaps not achieve results because the time is not right for you, for your client? Or can you serve greatly with incredible results without recognition? Maybe even without thanks? And should you need these things, can you simply notice that this is self-work you need to address at some point, with grace?”

“Can you be so human, so extremely human in your existence, that you are divine?”

“The white man’s way of ceremony [with plant medicine] is to use it for a result, a goal, or intention, even if that goal is simply an experience. The primary ceremony is life. Can you live life as a sacred ceremony, as opposed to practicing ceremony for a while?”

Can I live life as a ceremony?

Wanting to the leave this world is not a new thing for me, I won’t say it’s a daily battle, but it is ever present. As is the drive or knowing that there is more to life than I am currently experiencing. What is new though is the knowledge that I can no longer go back. I can’t return to the society or parental prescribed normal as I have previously done. Pushing my exploration of spirituality until I break it, then jumping back into the world of traditional work until I become so dissatisfied and shrivelled inside that I explore my spirituality again, and on the circle goes. My ex-husband once asked me when would I be satisfied with my good enough career, my nice enough house, golf on Sunday and gardeners world on Friday? I ask myself the same. Why is that not enough? Why was that never enough? What is driving this inner search?

My partner now has dreams that are even bigger than mine, I sometimes think we facilitate each other in the ‘opportunity and potential’ to make a difference and live a huge life madness and that at some point, one of us needs to be sensible and ‘do the right thing’. Then as I shrink inside again, and I go back to searching for the graceful exit. It’s not financial or material (although that is included), it’s path and purpose and impact.

The last time I seriously researched taking my life, I convinced myself that I stopped because of my daughter, because of the trauma she would feel, but her beautiful heart cannot be my anchor. My own connection to my life force must be strong enough to want to stay. But really, is my disconnected self brave enough to act? And in that space, there is honesty, a rawness and a choice.
 
So, this time as the wheel turns again … Can I be so very human that I become divine? Can I live life itself as if it were a ceremony? In that ceremony, can I find balance and integrity between surviving, thriving and a path of impact and service? Can I choose to stay in the centred space in the middle of the chaos where there is innate peace, free from the tether of outcome?

The journey with this continues. The inner wound that encourages me to leave is quieter, but I suspect will always be there. I recently revisited my Soul Plan and was reminded about my worldly challenge and my spiritual talent, both the same energy, the two sides of the same coin. You can pop over to my website to learn more about the Soul Plan, suffice to say, all the above questions stem in part from that energetic inquiry of my soul, the question and the answer both contained within. The outcome, a continued journey, not an exit or a destination.

PS – I’ve used my own image in this post. Somehow it didn’t feel right to sit behind anything less personal xx

Sharyn-With-A-Why

To find out more about Sharyn, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

As I sat down to write a different blogpost, I found myself frequently circling back to the theme of vulnerability. Curious about its nuances, I decided to explore synonyms for this and was surprised to find that vulnerability had only negative connotations. These included: In danger, attackable, defenseless, unsafe, exposed, wide open, helpless, at risk.

Whilst it’s undeniable that vulnerability can entail some of these elements, vulnerability also looks like strength, bravery, resilience. It looks like diving into the shadow sides of ourselves, regardless of fear or apprehension of what we might find. It looks like summoning courage and boldness.
The times I have admired someone the most, is when they have put their rawest, most vulnerable parts of themselves out there. I’ve found that my deepest and most meaningful connections or conversations with others have often stemmed from moments of shared vulnerability, leaving me feeling lighter and grateful for the exchange.

A time that I felt very vulnerable was when I decided to start going to grief support groups. Sharing how I felt – which was something I never used to do – with total strangers felt alien and scary and like the most horribly vulnerable thing in the whole world, but I was met with smiles, kindness, and people telling me they had experienced similar thoughts/feelings. This big step into vulnerability allowed me to face grief more face-on in my own life and showed me that, as scary as it is, I am able to open up and talk about what was going on for me.

Embarking on my journey to become a breathwork facilitator also stirred up feelings of vulnerability within me. It’s a declaration of my passion and commitment to something I deeply love, something I want to share with the world. Yet, in doing so, I’m laying myself bare to the possibility of criticism or rejection. It’s a daunting prospect, opening myself up to the potential for people to dismiss or disapprove of what I’m doing. But amidst the apprehension, there was always an undeniable excitement within me. I was stepping into a realm where others will resonate with and embrace my offerings, where they may enjoy attending my sessions and find value in what I have to offer. The prospect of connecting with like-minded souls, of witnessing transformations, is equally exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

So yes, diving into this new chapter of my life is a rollercoaster of emotions—exciting, nerve-wracking, and everything in between. But ultimately, it’s a leap of faith fueled by passion and a desire to share something meaningful with others. And for that, I’m ready to embrace the journey, uncertainties and all.

The times I have been witness to someone being vulnerable, I have seen it met with love, kindness, compassion, understanding, and often times it allows others to feel able to open up and share too. Of course, I am very privileged to have access to wonderful supportive people and spaces. I understand that this is not the case for everyone. There is a time and a place for vulnerability.

As a breathwork facilitator, vulnerability represents something a little bit different. Holding space for others means that you do need to be strong, regulated, and have capacity to hold other people. This is not our time for sharing, it is our time to hold space, and to listen. A great piece of advice I heard was that as facilitators we must be teaching from our scars not our wounds. Having that emotional distance between yourself and what you’re discussing. As the facilitator, the breathwork circle is not your place to offload and share, but to be there to hold the space for others.

Holding space for others requires strength, yes, but it also demands emotional resilience and a mindful approach. There’s a delicate balance between offering support and maintaining boundaries. As facilitators, we’re tasked with guiding others on their journey. It’s about creating a safe space for exploration and growth, without overshadowing the experiences of others.

So, here’s to embracing vulnerability—both as individuals and as facilitators. It can be messy, it can be uncomfortable, but the benefits can be huge. After all, it’s through vulnerability that we truly connect, heal, and thrive.

Lottie Hall. Breathwork with Lottie.

To find out more about Lottie, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

Discovering the Strength in Feeling Deeply.

“Through the breath, we find our way back to ourselves – to the wisdom that whispers within, to the strength that lives in our sensitivity, and to the profound truth that we are enough, just as we are.”
— Lottie Evans

For much of my life, I felt like a stranger in my own body. I was out of tune with myself, with my emotions, and with the quiet whispers of my soul. Like many sensitive souls, I learned to mask my true nature, burying my sensitivity under layers of distraction, denial, and numbness. Society taught me that sensitivity is synonymous with weakness, that feeling deeply is something to be “fixed,” and that the way forward was to toughen up, to become someone I was not.

However, the more I tried to escape my sensitivity, the more disconnected, anxious, and overwhelmed I became. Caught in a cycle of self-criticism, I tried to erase parts of myself that were, in fact, my truest essence. My sensitivity, the very thing I sought to deny, called me back time and again, whispering, “Listen.”

It wasn’t until I discovered the breath – the simple, profound act of breathing with awareness – that I began to reconnect with my body and embrace my true nature.

Our breath is one of the most beautiful tools we possess, a constant companion throughout our lives. Yet, how often do we truly pay attention to it? How often do we notice the rhythm, depth, and texture of our breath as it moves through us?

For years, I breathed without thought, taking each inhale and exhale for granted. When I began to focus on my breath – to truly notice it – something incredible happened. I discovered that breath is not merely a physiological process; it is a gateway, a bridge between the body and the mind, the conscious and the unconscious.

By tuning into my breath, I began to hear my body’s wisdom, feel the emotions I had suppressed, and explore my inner landscape. The breath became my tool for understanding energy, soothing myself in moments of overwhelm, and finding clarity amidst confusion.

Through this journey with breath, I began to see my sensitivity as a gift rather than a burden. Sensitivity is not weakness; it is the profound ability to feel deeply, sense the subtleties of life, and connect with others on an emotional level. It is a strength, a superpower that allows us to live fully and experience the richness of being human.

For too long, I believed that being sensitive made me fragile and that my emotions were burdens to be managed or controlled. The breath taught me otherwise. It showed me that sensitivity, when embraced, is a source of wisdom, creativity, and deep connection.

The breath serves as an ally in helping us harness our sensitivity and acknowledge it as a strength.

The breath brings us back into our bodies. When we are sensitive, we often pick up on various external stimuli and can lose touch with our needs and feelings. The breath grounds us, reminding us to check in with ourselves. It allows us to notice where we hold tension, discomfort, or ease, fostering a direct conversation with our bodies.

Sensitivity often accompanies a highly active mind, constantly processing and analysing. When overwhelmed by thoughts or emotions, breath can anchor us. By focusing on the rhythm of inhale and exhale, we settle our minds, creating calm amidst chaos. Deep, slow breathing sends signals to our nervous system that it is safe to relax and be present.

Our breath is intricately connected to our energy. Shallow breathing restricts the flow of energy in our bodies, while deep, full breathing allows it to move freely. The breath helps us tune into our energetic state, guiding us to notice where we feel depleted or vibrant. By working with the breath, we can balance our energy, nourish ourselves, and ground ourselves when scattered.

For me, discovering the breath was like finding a hidden key to myself. It was a way back to my true nature, a way to listen to the parts I had tried to ignore. Through the breath, I learned that I don’t need to fight my sensitivity or change it. Instead, I need to embrace and honour it as my guide.
Sensitivity is not something to be “fixed.” It is a gift, allowing us to feel deeply, connect authentically, create passionately, and love fully. It is a source of strength, resilience, and empathy that can guide us through life’s challenges.

If you’ve ever felt that your sensitivity is a burden or tried to hide your emotions, I invite you to return to the breath. Let it be your guide. Start by taking a few moments each day to breathe with awareness. Notice the rise and fall of your chest, the cool air entering your nostrils, and the warmth as it leaves. Feel the rhythm of life connecting you to something greater. In this simple act, you honour the fullness of who you are.

Our sensitivity is a gift, and the breath is one of the most beautiful tools we have to harness it. Through breath, we learn to listen to our bodies, soothe our minds, understand our energy, and embrace our true nature.

Let’s stop seeing sensitivity as something to hide. Instead, let’s acknowledge it as the profound strength it is. Let’s use the breath to connect more deeply with ourselves, find peace in the present moment, and live with greater authenticity, compassion, and love.

Because when we breathe with awareness, we return home to ourselves – and in that space, everything is possible.

Remember, you are not alone on this path. Together, we can transform our sensitivity into our greatest strength, breathing life into our true selves, and celebrating the beauty of feeling deeply.

Naturally Lottie – Your HSP Hype Girl

To find out more about Lottie, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

Trauma-Sensitive Breathwork as a Bridge to Body Wisdom.

In a time where fast transformations and intense experiences are often praised as the path to personal growth, I have chosen a different approach: a gentle, trauma-sensitive way of connecting back with ourselves through our breath.

The Power of a Gentle Approach

Perhaps you know this feeling: You sense a deep longing within yourself.
But longing for what exactly? For a greater meaning? For your personal purpose?
I believe most of us are (unconsciously) searching for a connection with ourselves.

And while we’re searching, it’s often not that easy to restore this connection (even when we’re aware that it’s missing). More often than we would like, our bodies don’t feel like safe places. At least, that is my experience.

Many transformative breathwork practices (such as Holotropic Breathwork or classical Connected Breathing) that aim for cathartic experiences can be overwhelming for our systems and may create an even bigger distance to our bodies instead of creating the desired connection.

This is where my trauma-sensitive breathwork approach comes in. It’s based on the deep conviction that true healing begins in a gentle and safe contact with our innermost being. Through the integration of Somatic Experiencing techniques, we create a space where you can follow your own rhythm and explore the connection to your body step by step, slowly restoring it at your own pace.

The Difference to Classical Breathwork Practices

Traditional breathwork methods often work with a very intense breathing rhythm and aim for powerful “breakthroughs.” While I generally work with connected breathing techniques as well, my approach takes a different path:

  • Gentle Approach: Instead of seeking cathartic experiences, we approach your inner world gently and safely. We explore step by step what your body is ready to reveal, allowing you to truly perceive what’s happening within you and giving you the chance to consciously experience emerging sensations and feelings.
  • Regulation Instead of Overwhelm: We avoid flooding your system with stimuli and repeatedly create moments of calm and relaxation. This ensures that your system can integrate the experiences long-term rather than just experiencing another moment of euphoria that ultimately doesn’t change much in your life.
  • Your Pace: You decide on the pace of your exploration while being mindfully guided. This might seem unusual and strange to many at first — after all, we’re all looking for quick solutions. However, real change typically requires time and a conscious awareness.
The Bridge to Body Wisdom

So, what exactly does our breath have to do with all this? Our breath is like a bridge between our conscious and unconscious self. Through trauma-sensitive breathwork, we use this bridge mindfully to ensure several things simultaneously:

  1. Establishing Safety: Through gentle breathing techniques, your nervous system learns that it’s safe to relax. This feeling of safety is so important because it’s the only way your nervous system can leave the “fight or flight” mode and release experiences that previously drove you into and perhaps kept you trapped in this state.
  2. Perceiving Body Sensations: Only when your system feels safe will it open up to new experiences, feelings, and body sensations. And only within this (safe) setting can you come back into deeper contact with your body and yourself.
  3. Building Trust: The experience of being okay and safe to allow feelings and to sense your body more consciously will gradually build and strengthen trust in your body and its natural wisdom.
Practical Integration in Daily Life

While I consciously design my work as a breathwork coach and facilitator to be trauma-sensitive, trauma-sensitive breathwork is so much more than a technique – it’s an attitude of gentle self-care.

At this point, I’d like to share three ways you can integrate this approach into your daily life:

  1. Micro-moments of Mindfulness: Take small moments throughout the day to notice your breath – without trying to change it. This doesn’t take long, and often you don’t even need to stop what you’re already doing. You can observe your breath while walking, washing dishes, or during a conversation. Briefly sense where you feel your breath (at your mouth or nose, in your chest or abdomen) and how your breathing is flowing (fast, slow, deep, shallow). Also notice briefly how your breathing feels (calming, halting, strained?).
  2. Creating Safe Anchors: Explore your personal resources that help you feel safe and grounded. Resources can be internal or external anchors that you can connect with physically, emotionally, and mentally to help your system find calm. These might be objects that hold special meaning for you (e.g., photos, vacation souvenirs, or a stuffed animal), the thought of someone you love, or a positive memory that brings a smile to your face.
  3. Using Your Senses: Often we’re so much in our heads that we don’t consciously perceive where we are. Allow yourself to consciously activate your senses from time to time and use them to experience the here and now: What can you see right now? What can you hear? What do you smell or taste in this moment? What objects can you touch, and how do they feel?
A Path to Sustainable Healing

The trauma-sensitive approach to breathwork might initially seem less spectacular than intensive breathing practices. Yet it’s precisely in its gentleness that its transformative power lies. It enables us to build sustainable connections — to ourselves, to others, and to the world around us.

This type of work creates a space where all experiences and feelings are welcome. A space where you can be exactly as you are. Because I am convinced: True healing begins where we feel safe enough to meet ourselves – with all our stories, fears, and hopes.

In a world that often searches for quick solutions, I invite you to choose the gentle path. A path that leads you back to yourself breath by breath and allows you to walk your own healing journey at your own pace.

If you’d like to learn more about my work, feel free to visit my website.

With love,
Svenja

Svenja (she/her)

To find out more about Svenja, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

Being in Relationship with your Breath.

One the greatest privileges I have as a Breathing Space Teacher is witnessing the transformation that happens when trainees develop their own relationship with their breath. There is a deep intimacy that expands and spills out into everyday life as the relationship evolves, but it always begins within. It truly is an inside job.

I’m wondering, did you notice how reading this first paragraph made you feel, or what thoughts came up for you, or what happened within your body?

For some of you this deep intimacy with yourself might feel scary, for some it might feel exciting, for some of you it might feel neutral – or maybe natural might be a better description. Whatever you felt, the invitation is not to judge but just to notice. I remember many years ago when I first heard of Shiatsu, a form of body work, the practitioner told me that it can induce emotional responses. I was petrified! It took me months to pluck up the courage to book an appointment, my emotions were so tied up and knotted, I did not want to open that box.

It makes me smile now to remember how our life force often intervenes and you receive what you need. Although I had peaked inside the box many times over the intervening years, the first time I did breathwork I sobbed for the whole session. The box was well and truly open.

To be fair, I had been working in a very cerebral/coaching/counselling kind of way with family grief and loss, so I did need an outlet, indeed as I began my own relationship with the breath, I experienced a whole array of emotions and body talk that has transformed my inner world into a kaleidoscope of colours.

Now, breath is a way of life for me. At a recent family gathering, when anxiety around being with so many people was rising, I paused, and I breathed in a conscious, rhythmic manner for just 1 minute and my whole body, mind and soul relaxed as I found my centre point again. In just 1 minute! It was a living example of how integral my relationship with the breath is in my life, and how impactful it is on my life experience.

As with all relationships, there is ebb and flow, and there is an ongoing commitment required to staying in relationship with the breath. We are just about to start a new group Breathwork Facilitator Training, which I’ll co-teach alongside the Hybrid version of the Breathing Space facilitator training with in-person workshops in York … I digress … As a commitment to myself, and to the trainees who trust me with their journey, and most importantly to the breath, I’m doing the training programme again myself.

One of the first requirements is to write a blog – Why Breathwork, what brought you here? I’m adapting the question slightly to why breathwork, what keeps you here?

The answer is simple – Connection is an inside job.

About the Author – Sharyn-With-A-Why

To find out more about Sharyn, take a look at her profile in Practitioners Corner

What do you enjoy about breathwork and how has it helped you?

The breath is everything. This simple statement spoken by the amazing founder of this space, has taken on so many meanings, from the obvious, we cannot survive without it, to the exponential transformational potential in each breath. So the truth in this moment, is the breath really is everything. I have walked a path of many truths, some old, some new, some rediscovered, some lost forever. the breath is woven so intimately, so integrally through my life now that i do not imagine a time without it. It has been a shelter, a sanctuary where i can rest from the storms in my life. It has allowed me to rise into the sky and beyond.
Creating a collection of poetry inspired by my experiences with breathwork was a wonderful way to channel and express newfound insights and emotions. Poetry can be a powerful medium for capturing the essence of inner experiences and transformations. As I embarked on my journey with the breath, I allowed the words to flow freely, letting them express the depth of my experiences and the richness of my inner world. I built up a trust in my intuition and the creative process. Allowing it to guide me to explore themes, emotions, and imagery that resonate with my breathwork journey. My writings are not just about the final product but also about the process of self-expression and discovery. Allowing myself to be vulnerable and authentic in my writing provided a supportive and safe space for me to feel into these vulnerabilities. Safety and security are recurring themes I have been working on, as I walk my own path towards wholeness through healing.
If I ever feel stuck or uncertain, I return to my breathwork practice, as this will serve as a source of inspiration and grounding, helping me reconnect with that creative flow within and support my expression in the outer world.

Where did you complete your training (or where are you still in training)?

Karen Berry. I graduated as a breathwork facilitator in July 2024 with Breathing Space. I attained my level 3 in Reiki in 2022 but I usually just say I work with energy as that is what it is to me but reiki is an accepted modality title.

Are you trained in any other modalities?

Yes, i am a trained in holistic massage, reiki – level 3, Indian head massage. and i am a qualified and registered adult general nurse

How do they integrate with breathwork?

Breathwork will weave throughout all modalities. It is present in each moment. I use the breath to support spiritual journeying and connection to other realms of existence.

What is your personal journey?

Throughout my life I have struggled, I was bullied as a child, I struggled to form lasting relationships, I was consumed by the need to fit in, to be accepted. This drove me to clip and change to suit those around me and I became less me, and not even really like them, I just seemed to fade away. Throughout my adult life people have abused my very soul. They have taken the love I gave so freely and used it against me. I’ll not dwell on that as this blog is about my journey in breathwork. So for the past 20 Years I have searched. I have searched for me. I have explored holistic therapies and trained in various modalities of healing. I qualified as a nurse and supported people for many years, physically and emotionally. My path took many twists and turns. I left one abusive relationship, straight into another, this one worse. I eventually found the strength to leave. During these times I left my spiritual development and self care behind. I no longer practiced my craft, I hid it all from the world and from myself. I was consumed with being accepted.
Now breathwork where does this fit in. Well over the past four years I have taken myself on a journey of healing, initially I thought I was ok, but then when I took a course on mental health resilience, I realised that I was not ok, the truth then was that I felt broken. Not it a I can’t function way, I worked, I provided for my family, but I was definitely not living my life the way I wanted or in a way that served my highest good, I didn’t really understand who I was so how could I live how I wanted when I didn’t knew myself. So I took a trip down the rabbit hole and I discovered a lady in America who does witchcraft and shadow work. OO I thought this sounds good so off I went, like Alice, down the hole deeper and deeper, until I started to come across the term breathwork. Now here’s me thinking wtf is that all about, sounds kinda hippie to me but also I found a little voice saying go have a look, go see what this hippie S678 is all about. Furthermore you daft sod you’re just a little bit hippie with all your reiki, crystals and witchy spell work so maybe, just maybe you’ll fit right in.
So off I do down another rabbit hole, and further and further I went, searching on the internet talking to friends, to see what it is all about. And I start to build this picture in my mind of what this breathwork might actually be about. Of course I saw some lets say very interesting interpretations of what breathwork was and some vast differences in practitioner training. I knew I was looking for something more, something that felt less wishy washy and more substantial. Then I found Ben and Breathing Space. I attended a zoom call to find out more. Now there I was, trying to get the children ready for bed, whist cuddling the snake and listening to Ben talking about his work and this programme. I suddenly stopped what I was doing, this was it, I found what I was looking for. The energies of all those people on that call were amazing, old students, current students, facilitators, curious people like me and of course Ben. One lady made a comment of how the breath is everything. As I have travelled along this path, read more books, attended more sessions, the truth of this statement transformed, I came to understand just what she meant. The breath is everything, no more no less, it just is. If you are reading this thinking this woman writing this is mad, she is bonkers what is she going on about making such a daft statement? Hang in there, walk a little further along the path into breathwork and you will see. The penny will drop, you will just know.
Breathwork has helped to change my life. I am calmer, more resilient, happier because I know how to breathe. I know what I need to do to open my sub conscious, so I can connect on a deeper level to discover my truth. I can stay calm in the moment, and now I am ready to support this for others.

What do you stand for, and what do you stand against?

My mission is to combat the feeling of being alone. I have been there and it is not a very nice place. I am not saying i don’t relish my own company nor am i unhappy on my own. But feeling alone is something very different. I wish for communities to come together, to support one another, where we are now. Building spaces where people can just be present and loved. What do i stand against? well tyranny, oppression, and feeling alone, feeling no one is there and not knowing which way to turn. Above all i stand for being kind and nice, these do not come without boundaries but let us all just be kind.

What is your greatest wish for your clients

To find a space of respite. A space of safe refuge as they navigate the storms in their own lives. A place of connection, a place of compassion and a place of love.

My Bio

Creating Safe Spaces to Navigate Life’s Storms: Breathwork & Energy Facilitation to Build Your Centre of Wellness

Contact Details

email :- safehavenwellnesscentre@gmail.com.