Brainspotting Intensive in Racine, WI: What to Know Before You Schedule

If you’re considering a Brainspotting Intensive, you likely have thoughtful questions. Below are the most common ones I hear from clients exploring accelerated trauma therapy in Racine, WI.

What is a Brainspotting Intensive?

A Brainspotting Intensive is an extended-format trauma therapy session designed to allow deeper, uninterrupted nervous system processing.

Unlike traditional 50-minute sessions, intensives provide several focused hours dedicated to working through specific trauma targets, attachment wounds, or persistent triggers. This structure allows the brain and body to stay engaged long enough to metabolize material that may feel “stuck” in weekly therapy.

I offer Brainspotting Intensives in Racine, WI for clients who are ready for focused, somatic trauma therapy in a contained, intentional format.

How is a Brainspotting Intensive different from weekly therapy?

Weekly therapy builds safety over time and can be incredibly effective. A Brainspotting Intensive offers a different container.

Because the session is longer, we are able to:

• Stay with a trauma target without interruption

• Reduce start-stop cycles

• Allow the nervous system to process more fully

• Integrate before the day ends

For clients who have done years of therapy but still feel triggered, this format often creates meaningful movement in a shorter timeframe. It isn’t about rushing healing — it’s about giving the nervous system enough continuity to complete what it begins.

Who is a good candidate for a Brainspotting Intensive?

Brainspotting Intensives are often a strong fit for:

• Adults who have done therapy before and want deeper trauma processing

• Highly self-reliant or high-functioning individuals who move quickly through insight

• Clients working through attachment trauma or relational patterns

• Individuals traveling from outside Racine, WI seeking focused trauma therapy

• Those with limited availability for weekly sessions

If you are unsure whether an intensive is appropriate for you, we begin with a consultation to assess readiness and fit.

What issues can a Brainspotting Intensive help with?

As a Brainspotting therapist in Racine, WI, I frequently use intensives to address:

• Attachment trauma

• Relationship anxiety

• Emotional power imbalances

• Persistent triggers despite insight

• Chronic stress patterns

• Grief and unresolved loss

• Somatic symptoms connected to trauma

Because Brainspotting works directly with the subcortical brain and nervous system, it can be especially effective when trauma feels embedded beyond words.

Is a Brainspotting Intensive Worth the Investment?

It’s completely reasonable to ask.

An intensive requires more time and financial commitment upfront. But it’s also important to look at how therapy is typically structured — and whether that structure is actually designed around how nervous systems heal.

In a traditional 50-minute session, we often spend time reconnecting, orienting, and settling. That matters. But by the time your system begins to access deeper material, the clock is already ticking toward wrap-up. Just as something important starts to surface, we pause. We regulate. We leave. And then we wait a week to return.

That weekly model didn’t emerge because research showed the nervous system heals best in 50-minute increments. It largely developed through insurance structures and scheduling norms. It works well in many situations — but it isn’t always the most efficient format for trauma processing.

Now imagine this in another context.

If you were in surgery and the surgeon said, “We’ve reached our hour for today — let’s close this up and resume next week,” that would feel… less than ideal. Once you’re in the work, you want continuity. You want completion. You want to move through — not repeatedly reopen.

A Brainspotting Intensive offers that continuity.

Instead of revisiting the same doorway week after week, we have several uninterrupted hours to stay with the nervous system long enough for meaningful processing and integration. Once activation begins, we don’t have to stop just because time ran out. There is room for momentum, regulation, and resolution in the same container.

For many clients, that extended structure allows progress that might otherwise unfold gradually across months of weekly therapy. Not because we rush anything — but because we don’t keep interrupting it.

When you look at it practically, an intensive often equals multiple traditional sessions delivered in one focused experience. For some individuals, this reduces the total number of sessions needed. For others, it accelerates work that had been slowly circling the same themes.

It’s not about speed for the sake of speed.

It’s about alignment between the structure of therapy and the way the nervous system actually processes trauma.

To make this format more accessible, I do offer CareCredit financing options for clients who would like support in spreading out the investment.

An intensive isn’t the right fit for everyone. But if you’re ready to move through something rather than revisit it again next week, this structure may make a great deal of sense.

Is Brainspotting evidence-based?

Brainspotting is an evidence-informed trauma therapy developed by Dr. David Grand. Research continues to expand, and many clinicians integrate it as a brain-based, somatic trauma treatment similar in mechanism to EMDR. You can learn more about Brainspotting at David Grand’s webiste: https://brainspotting.com/

If you are searching for a Brainspotting therapist in Racine, WI and want a trauma therapy approach that goes beyond traditional talk therapy, Brainspotting may be a strong option.

Will I feel overwhelmed during an intensive?

Safety and nervous system regulation are central to my approach.

Brainspotting Intensives are paced intentionally. We build in breaks. We track activation. Co-regulation is ongoing. Processing is titrated — not forced.

Many clients report leaving their intensive feeling grounded, clear, and integrated rather than overwhelmed.

How long is a Brainspotting Intensive?

Intensives typically range from half-day to full-day formats, depending on your goals and readiness.

If you are seeking accelerated trauma therapy in Racine, WI, we can determine together which structure best supports your nervous system and your therapeutic goals.

Do I need to be a current therapy client to book an intensive?

No. I work with both current clients and individuals specifically seeking a Brainspotting Intensive in Racine, WI.

Out-of-town clients are welcome. A consultation is required before scheduling to ensure this format is appropriate for you.

What happens after the intensive?

Integration is built into the process.

At the end of your Brainspotting Intensive, we discuss:

• What shifted

• What your nervous system needs

• Whether follow-up sessions are recommended

• Ongoing support options

Some clients return to weekly trauma therapy. Others schedule future intensives as needed. The goal is not dependency — it is meaningful, embodied change.

How do I schedule a Brainspotting Intensive in Racine, WI?

If you are considering a Brainspotting Intensive, the first step is scheduling a consultation to determine fit and readiness.

If you are looking for focused trauma therapy or accelerated processing in Racine, WI, I invite you to reach out to explore whether an intensive is right for you.

SCHEDULE HERE

Why Highly Self-Reliant Women Feel Anxious in Relationships That Don’t Look “Bad”

Many of the women I work with are highly self-reliant. They are capable, thoughtful, and used to handling things. They often carry significant responsibility—not only in their professional lives, but at home as well. They are frequently the ones who keep things running, who remember what needs to be done, who anticipate needs before they’re spoken, and who absorb emotional weight so others don’t have to.

From the outside, their lives often look stable. Functional. Even successful. They are the ones others lean on. The ones who manage, adapt, and make things work.

And yet, when it comes to their intimate relationships, something doesn’t quite settle.

Nothing is obviously wrong. There may be no yelling, no betrayal, no clear rupture that explains the discomfort. On paper, the relationship looks “fine.” But internally, there is anxiety—a quiet, persistent unease. A sense of being on edge that doesn’t seem to match the circumstances.

This is often where confusion begins.

“I Don’t Know Why This Feels So Hard”

Highly self-reliant women are often very good at understanding context. They can explain why something might feel uncomfortable. They can empathize with their partner’s stress, history, or limitations. They can hold nuance. They can see both sides.

So when anxiety shows up in a relationship that doesn’t look overtly harmful, it’s common to turn inward.

Maybe I’m overthinking.
Maybe I’m expecting too much.
Maybe this is just what relationships feel like.

Rather than questioning the relationship, many women assume the discomfort means they need to adjust—to be more patient, more flexible, more regulated.

But anxiety is not always a personal flaw. Sometimes, it’s a relational signal.

The Kind of Anxiety That Isn’t About Fear of Abandonment

This isn’t always the anxiety of worrying someone will leave. Often, it’s quieter than that.

It can look like replaying conversations after they end, tracking subtle shifts in tone or mood, or feeling responsible for keeping things smooth. It may show up as holding back needs to avoid disruption, or noticing that you feel more relaxed when you’re alone than when you’re together.

For women who carry a lot of responsibility at home, this anxiety can feel especially familiar. When you’re used to noticing what others need, smoothing transitions, or holding emotional steadiness for the sake of stability, your nervous system doesn’t easily stand down. It stays oriented toward caretaking rather than rest, even in relationships meant to feel mutual.

Why Highly Self-Reliant Women Are Especially Prone to This Pattern

Self-reliance doesn’t come from nowhere. For many women, it was learned early.

It may have come from being emotionally attuned to caregivers, learning not to rely on others consistently, or needing to be capable and calm in order to maintain stability. Over time, self-reliance becomes an identity. It’s adaptive. It works.

But in relationships, this adaptation can quietly shift into over-responsibility. Many women learned not only to manage themselves, but to manage the emotional ecosystem around them—often without realizing how much that role costs over time.

Instead of asking, Why doesn’t this feel safe?
They ask, What am I doing wrong?

When the Nervous System Is Always Tracking

Anxiety in these relationships is often less about fear and more about constant attunement.

The nervous system stays alert—tracking subtle cues: changes in availability, inconsistency in follow-through, emotional distance followed by closeness. The body is quietly assessing whether it can relax or needs to stay aware.

This kind of tracking often mirrors the same vigilance used at home—staying attuned to everyone else’s needs, moods, and stress levels, while your own remain secondary.

When safety is inconsistent or emotional responsibility is uneven, the nervous system doesn’t settle—even if nothing “bad” is happening.

“I Keep Thinking It’s Me”

Because highly self-reliant women are used to functioning well, anxiety often feels like a personal failure.

I’m so capable—why can’t I just be calm?
I’ve done enough work—why is this still here?

Instead of listening to the anxiety, it gets managed or minimized. But anxiety that persists in relational contexts is often asking for discernment, not dismissal.

When you’re accustomed to being the one who holds things together, it can feel easier to assume responsibility than to question whether the load is uneven.

This Isn’t About Being “Too Sensitive”

Highly self-reliant women are often deeply perceptive. Sensitivity, in this context, is not fragility—it’s accuracy.

Noticing subtle shifts, inconsistencies, or emotional asymmetry is information. The problem arises when that information is repeatedly overridden in the name of being reasonable, patient, or understanding.

Over time, this creates an internal split: one part of you senses something isn’t right, while another insists on staying.

That split is exhausting. And it often shows up as anxiety.

Regulation Comes Before Resolution

Many women try to think their way out of this anxiety. They analyze, journal, talk it through, or seek reassurance.

While insight matters, it’s often not enough. When anxiety is rooted in relational dynamics, the nervous system needs felt safety before clarity emerges.

Somatic, trauma-informed therapy helps slow the process down. We notice what your body does in response to certain relational patterns. We explore what settles you and what doesn’t—without forcing conclusions or rushing decisions.

As regulation increases, clarity tends to follow.

You’re Not Broken—You’re Responding

If you are a highly self-reliant woman who feels anxious in a relationship that doesn’t look “bad,” there is likely nothing wrong with you.

Your nervous system may be responding to something subtle, cumulative, and real.

You don’t need to label the relationship. You don’t need to justify your discomfort. You don’t need to have the answers yet.

For women who spend much of their lives caring for others, learning to listen inward can feel unfamiliar—but it is often where clarity begins.

In the next post, I’ll explore how emotional power imbalances—often difficult to name—can slowly erode self-trust over time.

For now, it may be enough to consider this:

What if your anxiety isn’t the problem, but the signal?

Perimenopause, Menopause, and the Nervous System: Why Fight, Flight, and Freeze Increase—and How Somatic Therapy Helps

Why Do I Feel Like My Body Is Suddenly on High Alert?

Many women entering perimenopause or menopause describe a sudden shift in how they experience their body and emotions. Anxiety may appear out of nowhere. Sleep becomes elusive. Irritability feels sharper. Emotions feel closer to the surface—or, at times, completely absent. Some women experience moments of panic, heart racing, or a sense of being overwhelmed by everyday stressors that once felt manageable.

For others, the experience is quieter but just as unsettling: fatigue that doesn’t lift, brain fog, withdrawal, or a sense of feeling disconnected from themselves.

When these changes happen, it’s common to wonder:
“What is wrong with me?”
“Why does my body feel like it’s betraying me?”

The truth is, what many women experience during perimenopause and menopause is not a personal failure or emotional weakness. It is often a nervous system response to profound internal change.

A Brief Overview: Fight, Flight, and Freeze

The nervous system is designed to protect us. Through the fight, flight, and freeze responses, the body mobilizes when it senses threat—whether that threat is external (danger in the environment) or internal (changes happening within the body).

• Fight may show up as irritability, anger, tension, or a low tolerance for stress.

• Flight often looks like anxiety, panic, restlessness, racing thoughts, or insomnia.

• Freeze can appear as exhaustion, numbness, brain fog, shutdown, or feeling emotionally flat.

These responses are not signs that something is wrong. They are adaptive survival mechanisms. The nervous system doesn’t distinguish between an external threat and unfamiliar internal sensations—it simply responds.

What Changes in the Body During Perimenopause and Menopause

Perimenopause and menopause bring significant hormonal shifts, particularly in estrogen and progesterone, which play important roles in nervous system regulation.

Estrogen supports serotonin, mood stability, sleep quality, and stress tolerance. As estrogen fluctuates and declines, the nervous system can become more sensitive to stress. Cortisol levels may increase, sleep may become fragmented, and the body’s ability to regulate itself can feel compromised.

These changes affect:

• the brain’s stress response

• the vagus nerve

• emotional regulation

• temperature regulation

• sleep and energy levels

From a nervous system perspective, the body is not breaking down—it is adapting to change. But adaptation can feel destabilizing, especially if the nervous system already carries a history of chronic stress or trauma.

Why Hormonal Shifts Can Trigger Fight, Flight, or Freeze

The nervous system is constantly scanning for safety. During perimenopause and menopause, unfamiliar internal sensations—hot flashes, heart palpitations, dizziness, sleep deprivation—can be interpreted as threat.

When the body doesn’t recognize what’s happening, it may respond with survival energy.

This is why many women say:

• “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

• “My reactions feel bigger than the situation.”

• “I feel on edge all the time.”

If there is a history of trauma, chronic stress, or long-term self-overriding, these responses can feel even more intense. The nervous system isn’t overreacting—it’s responding to uncertainty.

How Fight, Flight, and Freeze Can Look During Perimenopause and Menopause

Fight

• irritability or rage

• tension in the jaw, shoulders, or chest

• impatience or emotional reactivity

• feeling easily overwhelmed by others

Flight

• anxiety or panic attacks

• racing thoughts

• restlessness

• insomnia or difficulty winding down

Freeze

• chronic fatigue

• brain fog

• emotional numbness

• withdrawal or shutdown

• feeling disconnected from the body

Many women move between these states rather than staying in just one. This fluctuation can feel disorienting and exhausting.

Why “Pushing Through” Often Makes Symptoms Worse

Our culture often encourages women to override their bodies—to stay productive, pleasant, and resilient no matter what. During perimenopause and menopause, this approach frequently backfires.

When the nervous system is already under strain, pushing through increases activation rather than restoring balance. Symptoms intensify not because you’re failing, but because the body is asking for a different kind of support.

Listening, slowing, and responding with curiosity are often far more regulating than forcing calm.

How Somatic Therapy Supports Nervous System Regulation During Hormonal Transition

Somatic therapy works bottom-up, engaging the body and nervous system rather than relying solely on insight or cognitive strategies.

In therapy, clients learn to:

• track internal sensations

• recognize nervous system states

• increase tolerance for internal experiences

• respond to the body rather than override it

Just as importantly, somatic therapy emphasizes co-regulation.

The Role of Co-Regulation in the Therapy Space

Co-regulation refers to the way one nervous system can help another settle. In a trauma-informed therapy relationship, the therapist’s presence, pacing, and attunement provide a sense of safety that the nervous system can borrow.

For many women—especially those who have spent years self-regulating or caring for others—this experience is profoundly healing.

During perimenopause and menopause, when internal cues feel unreliable, co-regulation helps restore trust. The nervous system learns that it doesn’t have to manage everything alone. Regulation becomes relational, not something to achieve through willpower.

Over time, this supports greater emotional flexibility, steadiness, and self-compassion.

How Yoga-Informed Somatic Movement Supports Nervous System Regulation

While I am not a certified yoga instructor, I incorporate gentle, yoga-informed somatic movement into my therapeutic work when appropriate. This is not about teaching yoga poses or performance-based movement. Instead, it draws from principles such as breath awareness, slow movement, and inward listening to support nervous system regulation.

These movements are offered within a trauma-informed therapeutic framework, emphasizing choice, pacing, and safety. Clients are invited to notice sensation rather than push through discomfort, and to respond to the body’s cues rather than override them.

Yoga-informed somatic movement can help reduce sympathetic activation, support vagal tone, and rebuild trust in the body—particularly during perimenopause and menopause, when internal signals may feel unfamiliar or unsettling.

These practices are offered as therapeutic support and are not a substitute for medical care or formal yoga instruction.

Signs Your Nervous System May Need Support During Menopause

• feeling chronically overwhelmed

• increased emotional reactivity

• difficulty resting or sleeping

• persistent fatigue

• feeling disconnected from your body

• swings between anxiety and shutdown

These signs are not indications that something is “wrong.” They are invitations for support.

Reframing Menopause as a Nervous System Transition

Rather than viewing menopause as a breakdown, it can be helpful to understand it as a recalibration. The nervous system is adjusting to a new internal landscape.

This transition often brings grief, identity shifts, and emotional complexity alongside physical symptoms. With support, it can also become a period of deeper self-connection, boundary clarification, and renewed relationship with the body.

Supporting Your Body Through Change

If perimenopause or menopause has left you feeling unrecognizable to yourself, you are not alone—and you are not failing.

Your body is responding to change. With education, co-regulation, and gentle somatic support, it is possible to restore a sense of safety, steadiness, and trust.

Your body isn’t betraying you—it’s asking for a different kind of care.

Grief That Moves Through the Body: When Healing Isn’t Just Emotional

When Grief Doesn’t Feel Like Sadness

When most people think of grief, they imagine sadness, tears, or longing. We’re taught that grief looks a certain way — emotional, visible, and clearly tied to a loss we can name.

But for many people, grief doesn’t arrive that way at all.

Instead, grief may arrive quietly, slipping in through the body rather than the mind. It can feel like a weight resting in the chest, a heaviness you carry from morning to night, or a deep exhaustion that sleep never quite touches. Emotions may feel distant or muted, as if they’re just out of reach, while the body holds what hasn’t yet been spoken.

At times, grief shows up as restlessness—an unease beneath the surface, a sense of being unable to settle even when everything appears fine. Many people move through their days with a subtle knowing that something feels “off,” as if they are carrying an unnamed ache. You may feel stuck, disconnected, or easily overwhelmed, unsure of when this began or why it lingers. For some, grief is first felt as sensation—tightness, heaviness, or collapse—long before it becomes sadness or tears. The body remembers what the heart has not yet found language for.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not doing grief wrong.

You may be experiencing embodied grief — grief that lives in the nervous system and body rather than in conscious emotion.

Why Grief Is a Whole-Body Experience

Grief is not only an emotional experience; it is a physiological one.

Loss, rupture, and unmet needs activate the autonomic nervous system — the part of us responsible for safety, threat detection, and regulation. When something important is lost or never fully received, the body responds whether or not the mind names it as grief.

This is especially true for losses that occur over time, such as:

• emotional absence

• chronic disappointment

• unmet attachment needs

• relationships that never felt safe or attuned

The nervous system registers these experiences as loss even when we were taught to minimize them. Over time, unprocessed grief can become embedded in muscle tension, breath patterns, posture, and stress responses.

Grief doesn’t disappear when it isn’t acknowledged — it simply moves underground.

The Kinds of Grief That Often Get Stored in the Body

Not all grief is recognized or given space. Some losses are too subtle, too layered, or too prolonged to be named at the time they occur. When grief doesn’t have a place to land, it often settles in the body instead.

This can include:

• Developmental grief — mourning the care, protection, or emotional attunement you needed but didn’t receive.

• Relational grief — grieving relationships that existed in name but never felt safe, mutual, or emotionally present.

• Ambiguous loss — grieving something that was never fully there and never fully gone.

• Complicated grief — grief that becomes intertwined with trauma, leaving the nervous system stuck in longing, fear, or unfinishedness rather than allowing the loss to integrate over time.

• Chronic disappointment — the quiet accumulation of unmet hopes and repeated emotional letdowns.

• Role-based grief — grieving the parts of yourself that had to disappear so you could survive or stay connected.

When these forms of grief are minimized or rushed, they don’t dissolve. They remain held in the body — in patterns of tension, collapse, vigilance, or numbness — waiting for safety, permission, and time.

Why Talking About Grief Isn’t Always Enough

Many people can talk about their losses fluently. They understand what happened. They’ve reflected deeply. And yet, something still feels unresolved.

This is because grief often lives in subcortical regions of the brain — the areas responsible for sensation, emotion, memory, and survival responses. Insight alone doesn’t always reach these parts.

You may “know” you’re safe now, but your body hasn’t caught up yet.

This is where bottom-up approaches become essential. Healing requires engaging the body and nervous system — not just the thinking mind.

How the Body Processes Grief When It Finally Feels Safe

When the nervous system begins to feel safe enough, grief often moves in ways that are unexpected.

Some people experience waves of sensation, deep exhales, trembling, or tears. Others notice images, memories, or symbolic experiences that feel difficult to explain. Still others describe moments of clarity, connection, or meaning that don’t feel purely emotional or cognitive.

These experiences aren’t something to analyze or force. They are often the body’s way of integrating loss at a deeper level — completing what was interrupted when safety wasn’t available.

When supported with grounding and attunement, this process can feel relieving rather than overwhelming. Healing doesn’t require understanding every detail; it requires safety, pacing, and presence.

The Role of Trauma-Informed Therapy in Embodied Grief

Trauma-informed therapy recognizes that grief needs relationship in order to move through safely.

Rather than pushing emotional release, trauma-informed work emphasizes:

• nervous system regulation

• pacing and titration

• co-regulation

• attunement

• choice and consent

This allows grief to surface gradually, without flooding or collapse. Clients learn to stay present with sensation, emotion, and meaning while remaining grounded in the here-and-now.

For many people, this is the first time grief has felt held rather than overwhelming.

How Brainspotting Supports Grief Stored Below Words

Brainspotting is particularly effective for grief that lives beneath conscious awareness.

This approach works by accessing subcortical processing through the visual field, allowing the nervous system to process unresolved material without requiring detailed storytelling. Grief may emerge through sensation, imagery, emotion, or symbolic experience — often in ways that feel organic rather than forced.

For some clients, this includes experiences that feel deeply meaningful or connective — not necessarily religious, but beyond language. These moments may involve a sense of coherence, insight, or connection that supports integration and relief.

Importantly, these experiences are not sought or interpreted. What matters most is that they occur within a regulated, attuned therapeutic relationship where the client feels safe and grounded.

Emerging qualitative research on Brainspotting has found that clients often report spontaneous symbolic or spiritual-type experiences during sessions, particularly when processing grief, and that these experiences are frequently associated with emotional healing and increased integration when therapists respond with openness and attunement .

When the body is supported, it often knows how to make sense of loss in its own way.

Signs Your Body May Be Carrying Unprocessed Grief

Embodied grief doesn’t always look like sadness. It often appears subtly, through experiences such as:

• chronic fatigue or heaviness

• emotional numbness or shutdown

• feeling “stuck” or disconnected

• difficulty resting

• strong reactions to loss, endings, or holidays

• unexplained waves of emotion

• tension or collapse during closeness

These are not problems to fix — they are signals inviting care.

What Integration and Healing Can Feel Like Over Time

Healing grief doesn’t mean it disappears. It means it becomes held differently.

Over time, people often notice:

• more emotional range

• less reactivity

• greater capacity for connection

• increased self-compassion

• the ability to feel grief and joy simultaneously

• a gentler relationship with the past

Grief no longer has to live alone in the body. It becomes part of a larger, integrated experience of self.

Grief Is Not a Problem to Fix — It’s a Process to Honor

Our culture often treats grief as something to “get through” as quickly as possible. But grief isn’t a malfunction — it’s a natural response to loss, absence, and unmet need.

When grief is allowed to move through the body, supported by safety and attunement, it often brings not only release but meaning. Not because meaning is imposed, but because the nervous system is finally free to integrate what was once too much.

When the Body Is Allowed to Grieve

If your grief has felt confusing, invisible, or difficult to explain, there is nothing wrong with you. Your body may simply be holding what it hasn’t yet had the support to process.

When grief is allowed to move through the body — rather than being pushed aside or explained away — it no longer has to live there alone.

And you don’t have to navigate that process by yourself.

About the Research Referenced

This post draws in part from qualitative research exploring spontaneous spiritual and symbolic experiences reported by clients during Brainspotting therapy, particularly in relation to grief processing and healing. Readers interested in the academic work behind these findings can explore the authors’ research and related writings for a deeper clinical perspective by clicking here.

Century, C. M. (n.d.). Spiritual experiences in Brainspotting: A qualitative phenomenological study [Unpublished manuscript].

Why Motivation Alone Doesn’t Create Lasting Change: A Different Way to Approach Change This Year

What Somatic Therapy Addresses That Motivation Cannot

Each January, people recommit to change with clarity and resolve. They set goals, refine routines, and prepare to “do better” than the year before. For some, this works. For many others, motivation fades quickly, effort feels unsustainable, and familiar patterns quietly return.

When this happens, the assumption is often personal failure—lack of discipline, inconsistency, or not wanting change badly enough. Yet for individuals with trauma histories, this explanation misses something fundamental. The issue is rarely motivation itself. It is that trauma operates outside conscious willpower.

When Effort Isn’t the Problem

Many people seeking therapy are not unmotivated. They are reflective, informed, and capable. They understand what needs to change and why. They have read the books, followed the plans, and tried repeatedly to apply insight to action.

Still, something does not shift.

This gap—between intention and follow-through—is not a character flaw. It reflects a nervous system that has learned, often very early, to prioritize protection over progress. When change threatens that sense of safety, even subtly, the body responds automatically. No amount of resolve can override that response for long.

Why Motivation Alone Rarely Creates Lasting Change

Traditional self-improvement models rely heavily on top-down processes: insight, cognition, repetition, and self-control. These approaches assume that once a person understands their patterns, change should naturally follow.

In trauma-impacted systems, this assumption does not hold.

Trauma responses are not chosen behaviors. They are conditioned physiological states shaped by past experiences of overwhelm, unpredictability, or loss of control. When the nervous system perceives threat—whether relational, emotional, or internal—it activates survival responses that limit access to motivation, flexibility, and executive functioning.

This is why people often say, “I know what I need to do, but I can’t seem to do it.” The system is not resisting change; it is protecting against perceived danger.

Trauma Lives in the Nervous System, Not the To-Do List

Trauma is not only something that happened in the past. It is something the body learned from the past and continues to anticipate in the present.

From a nervous system perspective, trauma is stored as patterns of activation: hypervigilance, shutdown, freeze, collapse, or chronic over-functioning. These patterns operate beneath conscious awareness and shape how a person responds to stress, expectation, and change.

When a New Year’s resolution introduces pressure, uncertainty, or unfamiliarity—even positive change—the nervous system may interpret it as risk. At that point, survival responses take precedence over intention. This is not a failure of commitment; it is biology doing its job.

The Myth of Willpower in Trauma Healing

Culturally, willpower is treated as a moral virtue. Consistency is praised, and difficulty is framed as a test of character. Within this framework, struggling to follow through becomes a source of shame.

For trauma survivors, this narrative is particularly harmful.

What is often labeled as “lack of discipline” is more accurately a nervous system reaching capacity. What appears as avoidance may be a freeze response. What looks like procrastination may be dorsal shutdown. When willpower-based strategies fail, people often respond by increasing pressure—tightening routines, setting stricter goals, or criticizing themselves. This typically deepens dysregulation rather than resolving it.

What Somatic Therapy Addresses That Motivation Cannot

Somatic therapy works from the understanding that lasting change requires nervous system capacity, not just cognitive desire. Rather than focusing solely on behavior or insight, somatic approaches attend to the physiological states that make change possible.

This work may include:

• Tracking internal sensations rather than overriding them

• Identifying patterns of activation and collapse

• Supporting regulation before expecting behavioral shifts

• Expanding tolerance for discomfort gradually, rather than through force

By working bottom-up, somatic therapy reduces internal threat responses that block motivation at the source. As regulation increases, behaviors often change without the same level of effort or coercion. Change becomes more sustainable because it is supported by the body, not imposed upon it.

This nervous-system-informed approach is central to trauma therapy, particularly for individuals who feel “stuck” despite years of insight and effort. It shifts the focus from self-control to capacity.

Why Change Can Feel Harder Before It Feels Easier

One of the most misunderstood aspects of trauma healing is the discomfort that often accompanies early change. When long-standing survival strategies begin to soften, the nervous system may initially respond with increased anxiety, fatigue, or ambivalence.

This does not mean something is going wrong.

Protective patterns develop for a reason. As they loosen, the system may need time to recalibrate. Somatic therapy allows this process to unfold gradually, with attention to pacing and safety. Rather than pushing through discomfort, the work focuses on stabilizing the system so that change does not feel threatening.

Setbacks, in this context, are not failures. They are information about what the nervous system is still negotiating.

A Different Way to Think About the New Year

For trauma-impacted individuals, the New Year does not need to be a call to self-improvement. It can be an invitation to listen more closely to internal signals.

Instead of resolutions focused on outcomes, somatic goals might include:

• Increasing awareness of bodily cues

• Building tolerance for rest or stillness

• Noticing when pressure replaces curiosity

• Supporting regulation before demanding productivity

These shifts may appear subtle, but they create the conditions necessary for meaningful, lasting change.

When Therapy Helps Where Self-Discipline Falls Short

Somatic and trauma-informed therapy can be particularly helpful for individuals who:

• Repeat the same patterns despite strong motivation

• Feel exhausted by constant self-monitoring

• Understand their history but remain physiologically reactive

• Experience shame around inconsistency or “falling off track”

Modalities such as Brainspotting therapy work directly with subcortical processing, allowing the nervous system to reorganize without requiring constant conscious effort. This approach is especially effective when talk-based strategies alone have not led to sustained change.

For many, therapy becomes the place where effort finally begins to matter—because the system is no longer working against it.

Conclusion: Change Follows Safety

When change feels out of reach, it is often because the body is still prioritizing protection. Therapy that works with the nervous system helps establish the internal conditions that allow effort to matter again. From that place, change becomes less about discipline—and more about readiness.

Grieving Unmet Needs: Healing Family Trauma and Attachment Wounds

When the Holidays Highlight What’s Missing

The holidays often come with powerful expectations about family. We’re surrounded by images of closeness, warmth, shared traditions, and emotional togetherness. There is an unspoken narrative that family gatherings are meant to feel comforting, nostalgic, and healing.

But for many people, the holidays do something very different.

They highlight what’s missing.

You may find yourself leaving family gatherings feeling disappointed, unseen, emotionally drained, or strangely empty. You may feel pressure to be grateful, to “enjoy the time,” or to overlook longstanding patterns that don’t feel safe or supportive. You might sit at a table full of people and still feel deeply alone.

When this happens, it’s easy to assume something is wrong with you. But often, what’s being stirred isn’t ingratitude or bitterness—it’s grief. Not grief for someone who died, but grief for relationships that never fully existed in the way you needed them to.

This kind of grief is rarely talked about, yet it is one of the most common forms of pain I see in therapy.

An Invisible Grief: Mourning What Never Was

Not all grief comes from loss through death or separation. Some grief comes from absence. From emotional needs that were never met. From relationships that existed in name, but not in felt safety, attunement, or care.

This is the grief of:

• Not being protected when you needed it

• Not being emotionally seen or understood

• Not being comforted when you were overwhelmed

• Not being allowed to have needs

• Not being chosen, prioritized, or emotionally held

Because there was no clear moment when these things were taken away, many people struggle to name this as grief at all. Instead, they carry it quietly—often for decades—without language for what hurts.

This grief tends to surface most strongly during the holidays, birthdays, milestones, or moments when closeness is expected. These occasions shine a light on the gap between what is and what should have been.

When emotional needs were unmet over time rather than lost all at once, the grief that follows is often subtle and easy to dismiss. Many people carry it as an ongoing sense of disappointment or longing, especially during family-oriented moments when expectations of connection are heightened.

What People Are Often Grieving in Family Relationships

When people begin to explore this grief in therapy, they often realize they are mourning something very specific—not a fantasy, but a fundamental human need that went unmet.

Common examples include grieving:

• A parent who was physically present but emotionally unavailable

• Caregivers who were overwhelmed, distracted, or emotionally immature

• A household where survival took precedence over connection

• A family system where emotions were minimized, dismissed, or punished

• Roles where the child became the caretaker, mediator, or “easy one”

• Relationships that looked functional on the outside but felt empty inside

This grief does not require overt abuse or obvious trauma. Emotional absence alone can leave a lasting imprint on the nervous system.

Importantly, grieving these losses is not about blame. It is about honesty. About naming what was missing so it no longer has to be carried silently in the body.

Why Grieving Family Relationships Feels So Complicated

Grieving family relationships is uniquely complex. Unlike other forms of grief, it often comes with layers of guilt, loyalty, and self-doubt.

Many people tell themselves:

• “They did the best they could.”

• “Other people had it worse.”

• “Nothing terrible happened.”

• “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

Cultural messages reinforce this minimization, especially around the holidays. We’re encouraged to value family above all else, to forgive without processing, and to maintain connection regardless of emotional cost.

But when grief is minimized or suppressed, it doesn’t disappear. It simply moves deeper—into the nervous system.

Unacknowledged grief often shows up later as anxiety, chronic guilt, emotional numbness, difficulty trusting others, or repeating relational patterns. It can emerge as irritability at family gatherings, a sense of dread before visits, or exhaustion afterward.

Grief that has no place to land will find another way to express itself.

The Nervous System and Developmental Grief

Early family relationships play a powerful role in shaping the nervous system. As children, we learn what to expect from connection—not through logic, but through repeated experiences.

If emotional availability was inconsistent, the nervous system may learn to stay on high alert.
If emotions were ignored, the body may learn to shut them down.
If safety depended on pleasing others, the nervous system may organize around people-pleasing and self-abandonment.

This is often referred to as developmental or attachment trauma—not because something dramatic happened once, but because something essential was missing over time.

The body remembers these absences. Even when the mind rationalizes them away, the nervous system continues to grieve what it needed in order to feel safe.

This is why grief can surface unexpectedly—through tears that seem to come out of nowhere, through intense reactions to rejection, or through a deep ache that doesn’t have a clear source.

What Grieving the Relationship You Never Had Actually Looks Like

Grieving unmet relational needs does not follow a neat or linear path. It often comes in waves and may include emotions that feel contradictory or uncomfortable.

Grief may look like:

• Sadness for the child who adapted too early

• Anger at having to grow up without support

• Longing for care that still feels out of reach

• Relief at finally naming the truth

• Confusion about what to do with these feelings

This grief often resurfaces during milestones—holidays, becoming a parent, setting boundaries, illness, or loss—when old needs are activated.

Grieving does not mean staying stuck in the past. It means allowing the truth of your experience to be acknowledged and integrated, rather than minimized or bypassed.

Importantly, grieving the relationship you never had does not require confrontation, estrangement, or rewriting history. It requires presence, honesty, and compassion.

How Trauma Therapy Helps Make Space for This Grief

This kind of grief is often difficult to process alone because it lives not just in thoughts, but in the body and nervous system.

Trauma-informed therapy provides a space where this grief can be approached gently and safely.

In therapy, clients learn to:

• Recognize grief without becoming overwhelmed

• Regulate the nervous system while feeling painful emotions

• Release self-blame and internalized guilt

• Differentiate between what they hoped for and what was possible

• Develop compassion for the parts of themselves that adapted

Rather than forcing emotional release, trauma therapy emphasizes pacing and safety. Grief is allowed to emerge slowly, in a way the nervous system can tolerate.

This process often brings a sense of relief—not because the past changes, but because the burden of carrying it alone begins to lift.

How Brainspotting Supports Grief Stored in the Body

Much of this grief exists beneath language. It may be felt as tightness in the chest, heaviness in the body, or a sense of collapse when certain memories or interactions arise.

Brainspotting is particularly effective for this kind of grief because it works at the level where trauma and attachment wounds are stored.

Rather than requiring detailed storytelling, Brainspotting allows the nervous system to process what was once overwhelming or unavailable to conscious awareness. Clients often describe experiencing emotional softening, clarity, or release—without having to relive or analyze the past.

This approach supports integration rather than re-experiencing. The body is allowed to complete what was interrupted, and the nervous system can begin to reorganize around a new sense of safety.

For many clients, this creates space to grieve deeply while remaining grounded and present.

Signs You May Be Carrying Unprocessed Family Grief

Unprocessed relational grief doesn’t always look like sadness. It often shows up in subtle, everyday ways, such as:

• Feeling emotionally older than your peers

• Difficulty receiving care or support

• Minimizing your own needs

• Chronic guilt or self-criticism

• Strong reactions to rejection or abandonment

• Dread or emotional exhaustion around family gatherings

• Grief that surfaces without an obvious trigger

These are not signs of weakness. They are signals that something important deserves attention.

Grieving Is Not About Blame—It’s About Honoring Yourself

Grieving the relationship you never had is not about vilifying family members or denying the complexity of their lives. It is about honoring your own truth.

You can acknowledge that caregivers did the best they could and recognize that it wasn’t what you needed. These realities can coexist.

Grief allows you to stop waiting for something that may never come—and instead begin offering yourself the care, boundaries, and validation that were missing.

This process often leads to clearer limits, healthier relationships, and a stronger sense of self-trust. Not because the past is erased, but because it has been integrated.

You Are Allowed to Grieve What You Needed

If the holidays stir a quiet ache, if family gatherings leave you feeling unseen, or if you’ve carried a sense of loss you couldn’t quite name—you are not alone.

You are allowed to grieve the relationships you needed but did not receive.
You are allowed to feel sadness and gratitude at the same time.
You are allowed to tell the truth of your experience.

Grieving what was missing is not betrayal. It is an act of self-respect.

And you do not have to do it alone.

Am I Doomed to Repeat the Same Patterns? How Trauma Therapy and Brainspotting Rewire the Brain for Change

Clients often come into therapy with a sense of clarity they’ve never had before. They begin to recognize themes in their relationships—choosing emotionally unavailable partners, over-functioning, shutting down during conflict, tolerating mistreatment, abandoning their needs, or staying longer than they want to in relationships or situations that feel unsafe.

And once this clarity arrives, a painful and very understandable question usually follows:

“Am I doomed to repeat these same patterns over and over?”

It’s a heavy moment. Awareness can feel like both a breakthrough and a burden—because once you see a pattern, you can’t unsee it. Many people fear that knowing isn’t enough; that even with insight, their body will still pull them back into the same familiar, painful dynamics.

But here’s the truth:

Patterns are not destiny. They are learned responses—shaped by trauma, attachment, and survival—and your brain is capable of profound change.

Therapy, especially trauma-informed approaches and Brainspotting, helps create the neural flexibility needed for lasting transformation. Let’s explore how.

When Awareness Feels Heavy: “Why Do I Keep Ending Up Here?”

Becoming aware of harmful patterns in relationships is often one of the most courageous moments in therapy. It means your internal system is finally slowing down enough to observe—not just react.

But awareness can also open the door to discouragement:

• “Why do I keep choosing the same type of partner?”

• “Why do I lose myself trying to keep the peace?”

• “Why do I shut down every time someone gets close to me?”

• “Why do I stay in situations that don’t feel safe?”

• “Why do I keep falling into this same cycle?”

Many clients interpret these patterns as personal flaws or moral failures. But patterns are rarely about choice—they’re about conditioning, survival, and the nervous system’s attempt to protect you.

You’re not repeating patterns because you’re broken.
You’re repeating them because a younger version of you learned what it needed to do to survive.

And survival strategies are stored not just in the mind—but in the body and brain.

Trauma and the Brain: Why Old Patterns Feel So Hard to Break

Trauma—especially relational trauma—shapes the brain and nervous system in ways that directly influence how we connect, attach, and protect ourselves.

1. The Brain Learns Through Repetition

The nervous system is always trying to make sense of the world. When certain patterns are repeated enough times, the brain encodes them as “normal” or “predictable,” even if they’re emotionally painful.

• If love was inconsistent, your brain may associate love with anxiety.

• If affection was paired with criticism or volatility, you may equate closeness with danger.

• If your needs were minimized, you may learn not to have any.

• If boundaries led to punishment, you may avoid them entirely.

The brain prioritizes what is familiar—not necessarily what is healthy.

2. Trauma Teaches the Nervous System What “Safety” Means

Your body is constantly scanning for danger through a process called neuroception. If early experiences taught you that:

• chaos is normal

• you must earn love

• your feelings aren’t safe

• people leave

• your needs are too much

Then your nervous system organizes itself around those beliefs. It may gravitate toward relationships that feel familiar—even if they’re harmful.

3. The Body Remembers What the Mind Forgets

Trauma isn’t just stored in memory; it’s stored somatically—in muscle tension, breath, posture, sensations, reflexes, and the vagus nerve.

This is why insight alone doesn’t automatically create change.

Your brain can understand that a pattern is harmful while your body continues reacting based on old wiring.

The good news?

Wiring can be changed.

The Hope in Neuroplasticity: Your Brain Is Capable of Change

This is where the conversation shifts from discouragement to empowerment.

The brain is not fixed.
The nervous system is not stuck forever.
You are not doomed to repeat your past.

What Is Neuroplasticity?

Neuroplasticity is the brain’s ability to:

• create new neural pathways

• reorganize old ones

• strengthen helpful patterns

• weaken survival responses that no longer serve you

Neuroplasticity is the scientific foundation of healing old emotional wounds.

How Neuroplasticity Takes Place in Therapy

Every time you experience something different than what your system expects—safety instead of judgment, presence instead of rejection, calm instead of chaos—you are literally rewiring the brain.

Therapy creates new neural experiences by helping you:

• slow down survival responses

• experience safety in your body

• receive attuned connection

• learn to regulate emotions

• challenge old narratives

• feel feelings instead of shutting down

Every repetition of these experiences strengthens new pathways.

This is why meaningful change is not only possible—it is expected when the right conditions are in place.

How Trauma Therapy Supports Meaningful, Lasting Change

Trauma therapy works differently from traditional problem-solving approaches. Instead of only asking, “Why do I behave this way?” it also asks:

• “Where did this begin?”

• “How did this protect you?”

• “What does your body still believe is dangerous?”

• “What new experiences does your system need?”

Trauma therapy helps by:

1. Identifying patterns without shame

You begin noticing triggers, relational cycles, and internal responses with compassion rather than criticism.

2. Working with the nervous system, not against it

Therapy helps you recognize when you’re in fight, flight, freeze, fawn, collapse, or attachment cry—and teaches ways to regulate rather than react.

3. Providing corrective relational experiences

The therapeutic relationship becomes a space where:

• boundaries are respected

• emotions are welcomed

• needs are honored

• your nervous system feels safe being seen

These experiences are the raw material of neuroplasticity.

4. Integrating insight with embodiment

Healing becomes possible when both the mind and body receive the message:
“This is what safety feels like.”

How Brainspotting Unlocks Deeper Neural Change

Many clients find that even with awareness and coping skills, certain patterns feel deeply rooted. That’s because trauma often lives in the subcortical brain—the part responsible for emotion, memory, and survival.

Brainspotting is designed specifically to access and process this deeper material.

What Is Brainspotting?

Brainspotting uses the client’s visual field to access unprocessed trauma stored in the midbrain. Eye positions correspond with neural activation—similar to how certain songs or smells bring back memories.

When you focus your gaze on a specific “brainspot,” your system begins to naturally process frozen trauma responses.

Why Brainspotting Works

• It bypasses the thinking brain

• It taps directly into stored emotional and somatic material

• It supports the body’s natural healing mechanisms

• It reduces the intensity of triggers

• It promotes neural reorganization

Clients often describe experiencing:

• profound releases

• emotional clarity

• decreased reactivity

• increased sense of internal safety

• more flexibility in relationships

• a shift in how they relate to themselves

Brainspotting is not about forcing change—it’s about allowing the brain to complete what was once interrupted.

This is neuroplasticity in action.

From Awareness to Integration: What Change Looks Like in Real Life

Healing is not a single breakthrough moment. It is the accumulation of countless small shifts that signal new neural pathways forming.

Clients often begin to notice:

• Responding instead of reacting
  You pause before acting. Your body doesn’t hijack the moment.

• Recognizing red flags sooner
  What once felt familiar now feels uncomfortable.

• Feeling less pulled to old relationship dynamics
  Your system begins rejecting what once felt normal.

• Setting boundaries without collapse or guilt
  Your voice returns.

• Choosing partners who are safe, consistent, and regulated
  Your nervous system learns a new template for connection.

• Feeling your emotions without flooding or shutting down
  There is space for multiple truths at once.

• Less self-abandonment, more authenticity
  You no longer shape-shift to be loved.

These changes are not signs of “trying harder.”
They are signs of rewiring.

You Are Not Doomed—You Are Rewiring

If you’ve recognized harmful patterns in your relationships or behaviors, you are not failing—you are waking up.

Awareness is not discouraging.
It is the first doorway to transformation.

When you combine:

• awareness

• nervous system regulation

• trauma-informed therapy

• Brainspotting

• safe relational experiences

• mindful repetition

…your brain begins to reorganize itself around safety, trust, and connection.

You are not destined to repeat your past.

You are capable of building new patterns, new relationships, and new ways of being that align with who you are becoming—not who you had to be to survive.

If you’re ready to move from awareness to integration, I would be honored to support you.
Lasting change is possible—and it starts with helping your brain and body learn that a different future is available.

How Trauma Affects the Nervous System—and How Somatic Therapy in Racine, WI Helps Reset It

When the Body Remembers What the Mind Can’t

You may “know” you’re safe but still feel anxious, tense, or disconnected.
This is one of the most confusing parts of trauma—the mind understands that danger has passed, but the body hasn’t received that message yet. Trauma isn’t only the event that happened; it’s what remains inside the nervous system afterward.

The human nervous system is designed to protect us. When something overwhelming occurs—an accident, chronic stress, abuse, or even emotional neglect—our body’s security system shifts into survival mode. Over time, it can get stuck there.

Understanding how trauma affects your nervous system is the first step toward healing it. Somatic therapy offers a way to gently reset the system, helping your body remember what calm and safety feel like again.

Your Nervous System: The Body’s Security System

The autonomic nervous system (ANS) runs quietly in the background, governing heartbeat, breathing, and digestion. It has two main branches:

• Sympathetic system: activates energy for protection or action (“fight or flight”).

• Parasympathetic system: supports rest, repair, and social connection (“rest and digest”).

When balanced, these two systems act like a pendulum—moving between alertness and calm as life requires.

Trauma interrupts this balance. The body’s built-in “danger detector,” a process called neuroception, begins to misread cues. Ordinary stressors—an argument, a tone of voice, a crowded store—can register as threats.

Polyvagal Theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, helps explain this. It describes how the vagus nerve, our body’s main communication line between brain and organs, shifts between three primary states:

1. Ventral vagal (safety and connection): we feel grounded, open, and socially engaged.

2. Sympathetic (mobilization): we feel ready to act, fight, or run.

3. Dorsal vagal (shutdown): we feel collapsed, numb, or disconnected.

When trauma imprints the nervous system, these states can become rigid—leaving us stuck in defense rather than flexibility.

Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn, Collapse, and Attachment Cry

Our trauma responses are not weaknesses. They are adaptive survival strategies that once helped us endure unbearable situations. Understanding them brings compassion to our patterns and offers a map for healing.

Fight

The body prepares to confront threat—muscles tense, jaw clenches, anger rises. This can look like irritability, frustration, or the need to control. Beneath the anger is a nervous system trying to reclaim power.

Flight

Energy surges to escape danger. Restlessness, overworking, perfectionism, or anxiety may appear. Many who live in a constant state of “doing” are unknowingly stuck in flight.

Freeze

When neither fighting nor fleeing feels possible, the body immobilizes. Time may feel slow; the world distant. Numbness, brain fog, or dissociation can dominate. The freeze state protects by reducing overwhelm but can later feel like being trapped.

Fawn

This response emerges when safety depends on pleasing others. We may appease, over-accommodate, or lose our own needs to avoid conflict. The nervous system learns that connection equals survival—even at personal cost.

Collapse

A deeper form of shutdown where energy drains completely. Muscles lose tone, posture slumps, and emotions flatten. Collapse often appears as hopelessness, chronic fatigue, or a sense of giving up.

Attachment Cry

Unique to relational trauma, this response involves an intense yearning for closeness or reassurance. It can surface as panic when separated, clinging, or despair at perceived rejection. The body is crying out for the safety of connection.

Each of these states reflects a nervous system doing its best to survive. Healing invites these protective responses to stand down when safety has returned.

Reflection: Notice which response feels most familiar in your own life. How does your body signal that it’s entering that state? Awareness is the doorway to change.

When the System Stays Stuck: Understanding Dysregulation

After trauma, the nervous system may lose flexibility—it stays locked in “on” (hyperarousal) or “off” (hypoarousal).

Hyperarousal: The System Stuck On

When hyperaroused, the body remains flooded with adrenaline and cortisol. Sleep becomes difficult; concentration fades. You might feel edgy, irritable, or constantly braced for something bad to happen. This is the fight or flight state on repeat.

Hypoarousal: The System Stuck Off

Other times, the body shuts down entirely. Fatigue, numbness, disconnection, or “not caring” can dominate. This is the freeze or collapse state taking control, protecting you from feeling too much.

The Window of Tolerance

Psychiatrist Dr. Dan Siegel describes the window of tolerance as the optimal zone where we can feel our emotions and stay grounded. Trauma can shrink this window, leaving people bouncing between anxiety and shutdown.

The goal of somatic therapy isn’t to eliminate these states but to expand your window—helping your nervous system regain its natural rhythm between activation and rest.

How Somatic Therapy Helps Reset and Expand the Window

Somatic therapy works through the body to support nervous system healing. Instead of only talking about experiences, we notice what the body feels—tension, warmth, breath, or movement.

A. Working with Sensation, Not Against It

Trauma is stored in implicit memory—the kind held in muscles, posture, and breath rather than words. Somatic therapy helps surface these patterns safely. When a client notices, “My chest tightens as I talk about this,” that awareness becomes the entry point for healing.

B. Regulation and Safety

Through gentle tracking of sensations, grounding, and orienting to the present, the body begins to learn that it is safe now. Therapists may invite pauses, slower breathing, or awareness of support under the body. Over time, these micro-moments of safety teach the nervous system to relax its guard.

C. Co-Regulation in the Therapeutic Relationship

A key aspect of trauma-informed care is co-regulation—borrowing calm from another’s regulated nervous system. When a therapist maintains a grounded, attuned presence, a client’s body often mirrors that safety. This is why genuine connection and pacing matter more than technique alone.

D. Integration Over Time

As the body experiences safety repeatedly, it rewires. Emotions move through instead of getting stuck. Many clients describe feeling lighter, clearer, and more connected to themselves and others.

Some forms of somatic therapy, such as Brainspotting, further access the brain-body connection by locating eye positions linked to subcortical processing. This allows stored activation to resolve at the level where it first formed.

Somatic therapy doesn’t force release—it invites regulation. Healing happens not by pushing past the body’s defenses but by helping it feel safe enough to let go.

Simple Ways to Support Your Nervous System Between Sessions

While therapy provides structured support, everyday life offers countless moments to nurture nervous system healing.

1. Breathe slowly—especially the exhale. Long, gentle exhalations activate the vagus nerve and calm the body.

2. Orient to safety. Look around your environment and name what feels pleasant or neutral. This reminds the body that danger isn’t present.

3. Ground through the senses. Notice your feet on the floor, your back against the chair, the texture of an object in your hands.

4. Hum, sing, or use gentle movement. These stimulate the vagus nerve and restore flow after tension.

5. Connect with nature or supportive people. Safe connection—whether with a friend, pet, or the natural world—helps regulate the social engagement system.

Healing takes patience. Small, consistent practices signal to your body that it’s safe to come out of defense and rest again.

Healing Begins When the Body Feels Safe

Trauma recovery isn’t about willpower or simply “thinking positive.” It’s about helping your body rediscover safety, connection, and trust in its own rhythm.

When the nervous system begins to settle, thoughts become clearer, emotions more manageable, and relationships more fulfilling. You no longer need to convince yourself you’re safe—you feel it.

If you’re ready to explore how somatic therapy can support your nervous system healing, I would be honored to walk alongside you on that journey. Together, we can help your body remember what calm feels like again.

Brainspotting vs. EMDR vs. Traditional Talk Therapy: Which Is Right for You?

In recent years, trauma therapy has evolved far beyond the confines of traditional talk therapy. Many people arrive in counseling saying, “I understand my trauma—I’ve talked about it—but my body still reacts like it’s happening.” This experience reflects a crucial truth: healing isn’t just cognitive. It’s also physiological. Modern neuroscience shows that distressing experiences are stored not only as memories but also as sensations and reflexes in the body that words alone can’t always reach (Horton et al., 2024).

Because of this, interest in “bottom-up” approaches—those that engage the brain and body directly—has surged. Two of the most researched and transformative of these are Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) and Brainspotting (BSP). Both draw from the body’s innate ability to process trauma but use different pathways: EMDR through structured bilateral stimulation and Brainspotting through a deep, focused gaze that connects mind, body, and nervous system regulation (D’Antoni et al., 2022).

Meanwhile, traditional talk therapy remains foundational, offering understanding, reflection, and a space for meaning-making. Yet for many trauma survivors, purely cognitive approaches may not fully quiet the body’s alarm system.

This article explores how each of these methods works, what research reveals about their effectiveness, and how to discern which approach may best fit your healing journey. Ultimately, it’s not about choosing the “best” therapy overall—but the one that best aligns with how you heal.

How Trauma Lives in the Body

When something frightening or overwhelming happens, the body’s first instinct is not to think—it’s to react. The brain’s survival centers, including the amygdala and brainstem, activate instantly, preparing the body to fight, flee, or freeze. In most situations, the nervous system eventually resets once safety is restored. But when an experience is too intense or happens repeatedly, the body doesn’t always receive the message that it’s safe again. This is how trauma can become “stuck” in the nervous system.

Neuroscientific research shows that trauma alters the way the brain processes information. Overactivation of the amygdala keeps the body in a state of hypervigilance, while decreased activity in the hippocampus disrupts the ability to tell past from present (Horton et al., 2024). This is why a sound, smell, or image can suddenly bring the body back into the sensations of a long-past event. These responses aren’t signs of weakness—they are the body’s attempt to stay safe.

Trauma also impacts the superior colliculi, an area of the brain linked to visual orientation and threat detection. When unresolved, this system continues scanning for danger even when none exists, contributing to symptoms like anxiety and startle responses (Horton et al., 2024). Techniques such as EMDR and Brainspotting directly interact with these subcortical systems, allowing the body to complete the survival responses that were once interrupted.

Traditional talk therapy tends to operate from the top down—working through thoughts, beliefs, and narrative understanding. In contrast, Brainspotting and EMDR engage the bottom up—beginning with the body’s felt sense and helping the mind integrate what the body already knows (D’Antoni et al., 2022). Together, these approaches recognize that lasting healing involves not only insight, but also regulation, embodiment, and safety.

Traditional Talk Therapy: The Cognitive Pathway

For over a century, talk therapy has provided a safe and transformative space for people to explore emotions, make sense of their experiences, and develop new ways of relating to themselves and others. Whether rooted in cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), psychodynamic therapy, or humanistic traditions, these approaches share one core belief: that speaking about one’s inner world leads to understanding—and through understanding, to healing.

In traditional therapy, the mind is viewed as the primary agent of change. The focus often lies in identifying unhelpful thought patterns, reframing beliefs, and developing new coping skills. For many clients, this approach is invaluable. It offers a structured path to insight, emotional awareness, and behavioral change. The therapeutic relationship itself—the sense of being heard and understood—has long been recognized as one of the most powerful predictors of positive outcomes (Lambert & Barley, 2001, as cited in Horton et al., 2024).

Yet for trauma survivors, words sometimes reach only part of the story. The rational mind may know the event is over, but the body continues to respond as though danger remains. This is where the limits of purely cognitive approaches become evident. Traditional therapy primarily targets the neocortex, the brain’s center for reasoning and reflection. Trauma, however, is often stored deeper in the subcortical regions—the areas responsible for automatic survival responses. When therapy engages only the thinking brain, it may not fully access the instinctive reactions that drive symptoms such as hyperarousal, dissociation, or emotional numbing (Horton et al., 2024).

In short, talk therapy builds the story of healing—it helps clients make sense of what happened and who they are in its aftermath. But for those whose trauma lives primarily in the body, the story alone may not be enough. This realization has led to the rise of somatic, brain-based therapies such as EMDR and Brainspotting, which aim to reach the layers of experience that words cannot.

EMDR: Reprocessing Through Bilateral Stimulation

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) is a structured, research-supported trauma therapy developed by psychologist Francine Shapiro in the late 1980s. It helps people process distressing experiences that feel “stuck” in the body and nervous system.

EMDR is grounded in the Adaptive Information Processing (AIP) model, which suggests that when trauma is overwhelming, the brain stores it in a fragmented, unintegrated way. Because these memories remain “frozen,” they can continue to trigger emotional or physical distress long after the event has passed. EMDR helps the brain reprocess those memories so they become integrated into the broader memory network—no longer carrying the same emotional charge (D’Antoni et al., 2022).

In a typical EMDR session, clients focus on a specific memory while engaging in bilateral stimulation—such as side-to-side eye movements, alternating tapping, or auditory tones. This process activates both hemispheres of the brain and supports emotional regulation. Clients often notice that the memory feels more distant, less vivid, or more neutral afterward.

Research demonstrates EMDR’s effectiveness in reducing emotional intensity and physiological distress. In one study, D’Antoni et al. (2022) found that a single 40-minute EMDR session significantly lowered participants’ reported distress, with benefits lasting at follow-up. Neuroimaging studies also show decreased activation in the brain’s fear centers following EMDR sessions (van der Kolk, 2014, as cited in Horton et al., 2024).

For many, EMDR offers an efficient path to relief. Its structured format provides safety and predictability, making it helpful for those who benefit from guided, step-by-step work. However, some find the structure or pace overstimulating—particularly when emotions surface quickly. For these clients, a slower, more relational, and body-focused approach like Brainspotting can allow deeper processing without overwhelming the system.

Brainspotting: Accessing the Body’s Natural Healing Mechanisms

Brainspotting (BSP) is a newer yet rapidly growing approach to trauma therapy that bridges neuroscience, mindfulness, and deep relational attunement. Developed by Dr. David Grand in 2003, Brainspotting emerged while he was practicing EMDR and noticed that clients’ eye positions seemed linked to emotional intensity. When he invited a client to hold her gaze on a specific point, she entered profound emotional processing that traditional methods hadn’t accessed. From that discovery, Brainspotting was born.

At its core, Brainspotting is based on the idea that “where you look affects how you feel.” Each eye position corresponds to a cluster of neural activity in the midbrain. By maintaining focus on a point in the visual field that evokes emotional or bodily activation, the client accesses the subcortical layers of the brain where trauma and implicit memories are stored (Horton et al., 2024). This gentle fixation opens a direct channel between the body and brain, allowing unprocessed experiences to surface and integrate naturally.

How It Works In Session

A Brainspotting session begins with identifying a target issue—perhaps a distressing memory, emotion, or sensation. The therapist then slowly guides a pointer across the client’s field of vision while the client tracks internal cues such as tingling, tightness, or emotion shifts. When the client notices the strongest felt response, that location becomes the “brainspot.”

From there, the work unfolds through quiet presence. The client focuses inward while the therapist maintains an attuned, non-intrusive stance—what Grand calls the dual attunement frame, meaning the therapist is attuned both to the client and to their own regulation. Gentle bilateral sounds (often ocean waves alternating in the ears) may play in the background to support integration. There’s no need for detailed storytelling or analysis; the body leads the process while the therapist holds steady, compassionate space.

Why It Works

Brainspotting directly accesses the subcortical brain, particularly structures such as the superior colliculi, which coordinate eye movements and orient the body toward potential threats. When trauma occurs, this system can become “stuck” in perpetual vigilance. By locating and maintaining focus on the brainspot, these pathways reopen, allowing the nervous system to complete the defensive responses that were once frozen (Horton et al., 2024).

Unlike cognitive therapies that engage the prefrontal cortex, Brainspotting operates bottom-up—it begins with the body’s felt experience and allows new meaning to emerge organically. Many clients describe sensations of warmth, release, or clarity as the process unfolds. This bottom-up approach helps regulate the autonomic nervous system, reduce hyperarousal, and restore a sense of safety and embodiment.

What The Research Shows

Empirical evidence for Brainspotting is steadily growing. In a comparative study, D’Antoni et al. (2022) found that both EMDR and Brainspotting significantly reduced participants’ emotional distress after a single 40-minute session. Interestingly, Brainspotting achieved reductions comparable to EMDR and, like EMDR, maintained those gains at follow-up. Participants also reported that Brainspotting felt less cognitively demanding and more body-centered.

More recently, Horton et al. (2024) examined Brainspotting as a treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression. Over five weeks, clients receiving Brainspotting experienced not only symptom reduction but greater long-term improvement than those in traditional talk therapy. While both groups improved initially, Brainspotting participants continued to progress at follow-up, suggesting that the method supports ongoing integration and nervous-system recalibration long after sessions end.

The Relational Element

While Brainspotting is deeply neurobiological, it’s also profoundly relational. Healing happens in the presence of another regulated nervous system. Horton et al. (2024) emphasize the importance of the therapist’s attuned presence, which activates mirror-neuron pathways and helps calm the amygdala. In this way, the therapist’s empathy and groundedness become part of the client’s healing environment—a living example of co-regulation.

Why Clients Choose Brainspotting

Clients often turn to Brainspotting when they’ve “talked it out” in traditional therapy yet still feel stuck in body-based symptoms—muscle tension, fatigue, startle responses, or chronic anxiety. Others are drawn to it because it allows healing without excessive verbal recounting of trauma. It’s gentle, precise, and adaptable: clients can move at their own pace, remain mostly silent, or integrate mindfulness and breathing techniques as part of the process.

In essence, Brainspotting gives the nervous system permission to do what it was designed to do—heal. As the body processes the stored energy of trauma, the mind begins to follow, creating a sense of calm, clarity, and renewed connection with oneself. For many, this feels less like reliving the past and more like finally releasing it.

Why I Chose Certification and More Training in Brainspotting

As a therapist, I’ve always believed that deep healing happens when the mind and body begin speaking the same language. In my work, I’ve witnessed how clients can intellectually understand their trauma yet still feel trapped by physical tension, emotional reactivity, or an underlying sense of danger. Traditional talk therapy and EMDR each offer powerful tools, but I found that Brainspotting provided something uniquely transformative.

What drew me to pursue certification and advanced training in Brainspotting was the way it honors the body’s innate wisdom. It doesn’t force change—it invites it. The process allows clients to stay connected to themselves without needing to relive every detail of the past. I’ve seen how this gentle precision helps people reach layers of healing that talking alone can’t always touch.

Brainspotting aligns with my trauma-informed, body-based approach to therapy. It deepens my ability to help clients move from survival to safety, from insight to embodiment. Continuing my training in this modality is both a professional commitment and a reflection of my belief that profound healing happens from the inside out.

Closing Reflection

Healing is not a race or a single destination—it’s a gradual return to safety, wholeness, and trust in your body’s wisdom. Whether through Brainspotting, EMDR, or traditional talk therapy, what matters most is finding a space where you feel seen, supported, and regulated enough to let healing unfold.

For many of my clients, Brainspotting has become that bridge between knowing and feeling—between understanding their pain and finally releasing it. My role is to walk alongside you as your system learns to soften, integrate, and rest.

If you’ve been curious about Brainspotting or wonder whether this approach might help you move through what still feels unresolved, I invite you to reach out. Healing is possible—and sometimes, it begins not with words, but with the quiet power of presence and attunement.

References

D’Antoni, F., Matiz, A., Fabbro, F., & Crescentini, C. (2022). Psychotherapeutic techniques for distressing memories: A comparative study between EMDR, Brainspotting, and Body Scan Meditation. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 19(3), 1142. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph19031142

Horton, L. M., Schwartzberg, C., Goldberg, C. D., Grieve, F. G., & Brdecka, L. E. (2024). Brainspotting: A treatment for posttraumatic stress disorder. International Body Psychotherapy Journal, 22(2), 57–72.

Lambert, M. J., & Barley, D. E. (2001). Research summary on the therapeutic relationship and psychotherapy outcome. Psychotherapy: Theory, Research, Practice, Training, 38(4), 357–361. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-3204.38.4.357

van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking Press.

✨ Perfectionism and Trauma: How Early Experiences Shape Unrealistic Standards 🌱

Perfectionism is often misunderstood as a mere personality trait — the tendency to be detail-oriented, driven, or high-achieving. While those qualities can be healthy, perfectionism in its maladaptive form is less about striving for excellence and more about avoiding shame, rejection, or failure. When examined through a trauma-informed lens, perfectionism often reveals itself as a survival strategy rooted in early experiences.

What Is Perfectionism?

At its core, perfectionism is the relentless pursuit of flawlessness, accompanied by harsh self-criticism and fear of making mistakes. It goes beyond having high standards; it is the belief that one’s worth is contingent on performance, approval, or control. This cycle leaves little room for self-compassion and often results in chronic stress, burnout, and strained relationships.

Perfectionism can manifest in different ways:

• Self-oriented perfectionism: Imposing rigid, often unrealistic standards on oneself.

• Other-oriented perfectionism: Holding others to unattainable expectations.

• Socially prescribed perfectionism: Believing that others expect perfection from you, fueling fear of failure and rejection.

Trauma and the Roots of Perfectionism

Trauma isn’t always one defining event — it can also be the accumulation of smaller wounds over time. Childhood experiences such as emotional neglect, parental criticism, or unpredictable caregiving environments often sow the seeds of perfectionism. For many, perfectionism is not about wanting to be perfect; it’s about needing to feel safe.

Early experiences that may shape perfectionistic tendencies include:

• Conditional love: Affection or approval given only when a child performs well.

• Emotional neglect: Striving to “earn” attention by being exceptional.

• Unpredictable environments: Using control to cope with instability.

• Criticism or shame: Internalizing the belief that worth must be earned through flawlessness.

Recent research confirms this connection. Michałowska et al. (2025) found that maladaptive perfectionism can serve as a mediator between childhood trauma and adult depression, particularly when trauma involves neglect, peer violence, or sexual abuse. Their study suggests that perfectionism often emerges as a coping strategy aimed at regaining control, reducing shame, and securing acceptance.

🧠 The Nervous System and Perfectionism

Trauma impacts the nervous system, often leaving individuals in hyperarousal (fight-or-flight) or collapse (freeze). The drive toward perfection becomes a survival strategy to avoid perceived threats.

• Fight response: "If I work harder and get everything right, I’ll avoid criticism or rejection."

• Fawn response: "If I please everyone and never make mistakes, I’ll stay safe and loved."

Over time, these adaptations may appear as ambition or productivity, but underneath lies a survival mechanism.

How Perfectionism Shows Up in Adult Life

Perfectionism continues into adulthood, shaping careers, relationships, and mental health:

• 💼 Work: Overworking, burnout, difficulty celebrating accomplishments.

• 💔 Relationships: Fear of vulnerability, difficulty setting boundaries, resentment when others fall short.

• 😥 Mental health: Increased risk for depression, anxiety, and chronic stress.

In the Michałowska et al. (2025) study, participants with depression had higher levels of maladaptive perfectionism compared to healthy controls, underscoring how deeply these patterns can persist.

🌱 Healing Perfectionism Through a Trauma-Informed Lens

Healing perfectionism is not about lowering standards or becoming careless; it’s about reshaping beliefs formed in early life.

1. 💚 Awareness and Compassion
   Recognizing perfectionism as a trauma response can reduce shame and open space for self-compassion.

2. 🌬️ Body-Based Practices
   Somatic therapies, Brainspotting, and EMDR help release stored trauma and restore nervous system balance.

3. 🪞 Challenging Core Beliefs
   Therapy can uncover beliefs such as “I am only lovable if I succeed” and replace them with healthier narratives.

4. 🌟 Redefining Success
   Moving from external validation toward intrinsic values loosens the grip of perfectionism.

5. 🤝 Building Resilience in Relationships
   Embracing imperfection in relationships allows for deeper authenticity.

🌿 The Role of Therapy

A trauma-informed therapist can help clients understand how early experiences shaped perfectionism and support them in creating new relational patterns. Research indicates that reducing maladaptive perfectionism may also improve depression outcomes.

Therapy provides a safe space not only to explore these beliefs but also to practice imperfection, strengthen self-trust, and cultivate compassion.

Moving Forward: From Perfectionism to Wholeness

Perfectionism often begins as an attempt to secure love and safety. By understanding its roots in trauma, we can shift the narrative from “something is wrong with me” to “this was how I survived.” From this stance, healing becomes possible.

Addressing maladaptive perfectionism is not just about reducing self-criticism — it’s about supporting deeper trauma healing and reclaiming a sense of worthiness.

Learn more about trauma therapy here

Reference
Michałowska, S., Chęć, M., & Podwalski, P. (2025). The mediating role of maladaptive perfectionism in the relationship between childhood trauma and depression. Scientific Reports, 15(18236). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-025-03783-1

Brainspotting: What If I Don’t Feel Anything?

The Expectation of a “Big Release”

Many people come to Brainspotting therapy expecting something dramatic to happen. You may have heard stories of tears flowing, shaking in the body, or powerful emotional releases during a session. And sometimes, Brainspotting does look like that. But what if your experience is different? What if you sit in session and… nothing big happens? No flood of emotion. No noticeable shift. Just quiet.

It’s easy to wonder if you’re doing it “wrong” or if Brainspotting is even working. The truth is: healing doesn’t always look or feel the way we expect.

Why Brainspotting Can Feel Subtle

Many people imagine healing as something dramatic — like a floodgate opening or a huge emotional release that leaves you feeling lighter right away. And while that can happen, Brainspotting often works in quieter, more understated ways.

That’s because Brainspotting doesn’t just engage your thinking brain — the part that likes to analyze, make sense, and look for answers. Instead, it connects with the subcortical brain, the deeper part of your nervous system where unprocessed experiences are stored. This part of the brain doesn’t speak in words or dramatic gestures. It communicates through body sensations, small shifts in awareness, or changes that you may not notice in the moment.

Sometimes the processing is so gentle that it feels like “nothing is happening.” In reality, your system is doing important work — reorganizing, rewiring, and releasing what it has been holding onto. Healing at this level doesn’t always come with fireworks. It often looks like your body softening a little, your breath becoming steadier, or your mind feeling just a touch clearer after the session.

It’s also important to remember that your nervous system has its own pace. If your body senses that a “big release” would be too overwhelming, it may choose a slower, safer route. That doesn’t mean the work isn’t effective — it means your system is protecting you while still allowing healing to unfold. Subtle doesn’t equal unsuccessful.

Think of it like planting seeds. You don’t see the growth right away, but beneath the surface, change is happening. And in time, the results begin to show — sometimes in ways you didn’t expect.

Healing Beyond The Session

One of the unique things about Brainspotting is that the healing doesn’t stop when the session ends. Because Brainspotting works with the deeper parts of the brain and nervous system, the processing often continues quietly in the hours, days, or even weeks afterward.

This is why you might leave a session wondering, “Did anything even happen?” only to notice small but meaningful shifts later. Maybe you find yourself sleeping more soundly, feeling calmer in situations that used to overwhelm you, or realizing that a memory no longer carries the same heaviness. These are all signs that your system is still integrating and releasing.

Your body has an incredible wisdom — it knows how to move toward healing if given the chance. Just like a cut on your skin begins to knit back together without you telling it what to do, your nervous system also carries this same capacity for repair. Brainspotting simply creates the conditions for your body and brain to do what they already know how to do: release what’s been stuck and find more balance.

The process isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s subtle, like a small softening in your chest or the ability to take a deeper breath. Other times, the shift shows up days later — a little more patience, a little more clarity, or an unexpected sense of relief. Healing can look quiet, but it’s no less powerful.

Think of it like a ripple in water: the session is the stone dropping in, but the waves keep moving outward long after. Or like a tightly knotted rope slowly loosening — you may not notice each strand releasing, but over time there’s more space, more ease, and more room to breathe.

You Can’t Do Brainspotting “Wrong”

One of the most common worries people have during Brainspotting is the thought: “What if I’m not doing this right?” Maybe you didn’t feel a big wave of emotion. Maybe your body stayed quiet. Maybe your mind wandered. It’s natural to wonder if you missed something or if the session “worked.”

The truth is: you can’t do Brainspotting wrong.

Still, it makes sense that the worry shows up. Many of us are used to performing, achieving, or proving ourselves — in school, in our families, in our careers. That drive to “get it right” often follows us into therapy, too. You might find yourself wondering: Am I supposed to feel more? Should I be crying? Am I doing this correctly?

But Brainspotting doesn’t work that way. It isn’t about effort or performance. In fact, trying to force something to happen can sometimes get in the way, pulling you back into your thinking brain rather than letting the deeper parts of your nervous system do the work.

The beauty of Brainspotting is that your body already knows how to move toward healing. Sometimes that looks big and dramatic — tears, shaking, a strong release. Other times it’s quiet — stillness, calm, or even feeling like “nothing happened.” Both are valid. Both are healing.

Your nervous system is wise. It won’t give you more than you’re ready to handle, and it doesn’t need you to do therapy right. All it needs is for you to show up, notice what arises, and allow the process to unfold.

Just as your heart knows how to beat and your lungs know how to breathe without you having to control them, your nervous system knows how to process what’s been held — in its own time, in its own way.

So if you catch yourself wondering whether you “did it right,” remember: you don’t have to perform here. You don’t have to prove anything. In Brainspotting, there is no wrong — only your experience, and the healing that quietly unfolds from it.

Closing Invitation

You don’t have to keep carrying this weight on your own. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting your past or pushing it aside — it means creating space to breathe, to soften what feels overwhelming, and to reconnect with the parts of yourself that feel lost.

Whether you are navigating grief, trauma, or the quiet ache of feeling “stuck,” Brainspotting and somatic therapy offer a way forward that goes deeper than talk. This is a space where your body and nervous system can finally release what they’ve been holding, and where you can begin to feel more steady, present, and whole.

You don’t need to have the perfect words. You don’t need to know exactly where to start. You just need a safe place to begin. If you’re ready to take that step, I would be honored to walk alongside you.

How Your Body Holds the Key to Trauma Recovery

Have you ever talked through something painful—again and again—only to feel like you're still stuck? Maybe you’ve been told you're “over it,” but your body tells a different story. Your heart still races. Your stomach still drops. You still feel unsafe.

You're not broken. Your nervous system is simply trying to protect you.

Trauma Isn’t Just in Your Head

The truth is, trauma doesn’t live only in your thoughts—it lives in your body. That knot in your chest, the tight jaw, the numbness in your hands—these are all ways your body remembers. Even long after the danger has passed, your nervous system might still be holding on.

The Limits of Talk Therapy

While talking can be powerful, some wounds go deeper than words. That’s why insight alone isn’t always enough. Many people feel frustrated when they “understand” what happened, but still don’t feel any different.

That’s not your fault. It’s simply that healing from trauma often needs to start in the body.

Why This Happens

When something traumatic happens, your body does exactly what it’s designed to do—it protects you. Your heart races, your muscles tense, your breath gets shallow. This is your nervous system saying, “I’ve got you. Let’s survive this.”

But sometimes, even after the danger has passed, your body stays in that protective state. You might feel jumpy, shut down, overwhelmed, or on edge for no clear reason. That’s because trauma doesn’t just live in memory—it lives in your nervous system. And it doesn’t speak in words. It speaks in sensations.

This isn’t weakness. It’s biology. Your body is brilliant—it just hasn’t gotten the message that it’s safe now. Somatic therapy gently helps you send that message.

What Somatic Therapy Offers

At Rooted Counseling & Wellness, we approach healing from the inside out. Somatic therapy invites you to slow down, listen to your body, and learn its language. You don’t have to relive your trauma to release it—you just need a safe space to be in your body again.

Through tools like gentle movement, grounding, Brainspotting, and breathwork, we help clients rebuild safety in their nervous system, one step at a time.

You Deserve to Feel at Home in Your Body

You don’t have to keep pushing through, or wondering why nothing’s “working.” There is another way—and it doesn’t start with fixing yourself. It starts with listening.

If you're curious about somatic therapy or feel like your body is carrying more than you can name, you're not alone. You're already on the path. Let’s walk it together.

Why I’m Private Pay—and How It Benefits You

Choosing a therapist is a deeply personal decision. And so is the way we choose to do therapy. At Rooted Counseling & Wellness, I’ve chosen to operate as a private pay provider — and I want to share why that matters, and how it can actually serve your healing.

🌿 Therapy Should Be Rooted in You, Not a Diagnosis

When we go through insurance, therapy often becomes medicalized. In order for insurance to cover your sessions, you need to be given a formal diagnosis — often during your very first meeting — and your care has to fit within their definitions of “medically necessary.” That means:

• Your healing is documented and monitored by people who never meet you.

• Your therapist’s time is spent justifying your care instead of providing it.

• Sessions may be limited or denied based on criteria set by a system, not your actual needs.

As a private pay therapist, I’m not required to label or pathologize your pain in order to support your growth. You don’t have to be “sick enough” or “traumatized enough” to get help here. Your healing journey belongs to you — not a spreadsheet.

🧠 You Deserve Depth, Not Just Symptom Management

Many of my clients come to me after trying other therapies or approaches that didn’t go deep enough. They’re tired of learning coping skills for the hundredth time or telling their story over and over without feeling real change.

By offering Brainspotting, EMDR, and trauma-informed therapy, we’re not just working at the surface — we’re going to the root. And that kind of work can’t be rushed or standardized.

Private pay allows us to move at the pace your nervous system needs — not what an insurance company will reimburse.

⏳ Private Pay Offers More Freedom and Flexibility

You decide how long you want to be in therapy, not a claims adjuster.

• We can tailor sessions to include holistic, body-based, and culturally-sensitive practices without needing special approvals.

• Your records stay private — nothing is submitted to insurance databases.

It also gives me more time and presence with each client. Instead of spending hours navigating billing systems and paperwork, I can focus on showing up fully for you.

💛 I Know Therapy Is an Investment

I don’t take lightly the fact that private pay therapy is a financial commitment. It’s a decision that requires intention, courage, and a willingness to prioritize yourself. I also believe it’s an investment that can create lasting change — not just temporary relief.

To help make therapy more accessible, I offer:

• A free 15-minute consultation to ensure we’re a good fit

• Superbills for possible out-of-network reimbursement

• Temporary sliding scale options for those struggling financially. What is a sliding fee scale? A sliding fee scale adjusts the cost of therapy sessions based on a client’s income or financial situation, making services more accessible.