Coming Home to Myself: The Journey of Somatic Healing
- Oct 10
- 3 min read

There’s a moment in every journey when you realize you’ve been searching for something that’s been within you all along. For me, that “something” was a sense of true belonging—to myself, to my own body, and to the deeper wisdom I’d spent years trying to access with only my mind.
It wasn’t until I began truly listening to my body—through touch, breath, movement, and stillness—that I started to understand what “coming home” really meant.
Disconnection: The Starting Point
Like so many people, I spent a lot of my early life living in my head. The world teaches us to think, analyze, and perform—but not to feel, not to listen to the subtle signals our bodies are sending us every single day. Stress? Push through it. Pain? Ignore it. Anxiety? Bury it. I became very good at all of those things.
But eventually, the body keeps the score. The cost of disconnection adds up, and life has a way of guiding us—sometimes gently, sometimes with a sledgehammer—back toward the places we’ve neglected.
The Somatic Breadcrumb Trail
My journey into healing started with the body. First, as a Licensed Massage Therapist, I learned the power of touch—not just as a way to relieve tension, but as a way to communicate safety, care, and presence. I saw how the body holds stories and emotions, sometimes ones we can’t put into words.
From there, I kept following the breadcrumbs. I studied craniosacral therapy and discovered the profound effects of subtle, gentle presence—how even the smallest shift could release years of stored tension or trauma. Somatic breathwork showed me that breath is a bridge, connecting mind, body, and spirit, inviting me to feel what I’d spent so long trying to outrun.
With each new modality, I wasn’t just gathering tools for my practice—I was gathering the lost pieces of myself. Each skill brought me closer to the core of who I am.
Why Embodiment Is Everything
What I’ve learned is this: If you’re disconnected from your own body, it’s almost impossible to recognize what you’re feeling, what you need, or where your boundaries are. The body speaks its own language—through sensation, tension, expansion, contraction, even stillness. When you learn to listen, you gain access to an inner compass that is more honest and trustworthy than any outside advice.
This is why I do the work I do—not just for others, but for myself. Every session, every breath, every mindful pause is a return to home base.
The Work Never Ends (And That’s Okay)
I’m not “done.” None of us ever are. But I’m grateful to say that these days, I rarely get swept away by old patterns or fears. When something arises, I check in with myself: Which part of me is needing attention? What are the facts, separate from the emotional storm? What is my body telling me?
Patience, grace, and stillness are the medicine. Sometimes the path is foggy, and all you can do is pause and wait for clarity. And that’s more than okay—it’s part of the process of coming home.
If you’re feeling lost or ungrounded, start by listening to your body. Let it be your guide. The path home is always there, waiting for you to take the next step.
With you in the messy middle,
Sarah





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