Ancestral Trauma and the Midlife Body

How midlife awakens the ancestral stories we carry in our bodies

Midlife has a way of loosening what’s been tightly held. As our hormonal landscape shifts, things that once stayed neatly tucked away, old grief, inherited fear, unspoken stories, they begin to rise. This isn’t failure or falling apart. It’s the body’s way of inviting us to heal what has been carried for generations.

Our body is the keeper of our stories, and sometimes it holds the stories of our ancestors that came before us. We know through research on epigenetics that this is true.

Sometimes the ache we feel didn’t start with us. Sometimes the heaviness in our chest, the tightness in our belly, or the deep tiredness that no amount of rest can soothe, belongs to a story that was never ours to carry. We are born into other people’s stories.

We inherit much more than eye colour and bone structure from our ancestors. We also inherit their nervous systems. This is shaped by the environments, events, and relationships that came before us. The body remembers what the mind forgets.

What is Ancestral Trauma?

Ancestral trauma refers to the transmission of unprocessed emotional pain, fear, or survival patterns from one generation to the next. These are not always passed down as explicit stories. More often, they live in silences, in the shape of a family’s nervous system, or in the ways we unconsciously learn to stay safe. Ancestral Trauma lives in the body’s tissues, rhythms and reflexes.

It can show up in many different ways. Chronic tension that never seems to release, or maybe a tendency to over-function, taking responsibility for everyone else’s wellbeing. Or for some it is deep fatigue or burnout that isn’t fixed by rest.

“When you heal the wound in yourself, you heal the wound of generations before you and generations after you.”
— Michael Meade

A grandmother who survived war may never speak of what she endured, but her vigilance might live on in a granddaughter who finds it hard to relax. I have worked with many women who come to me and say they literally cannot stop working and rest, even though their body is screaming out for it and they don’t understand why. The pattern often lies in what has been inherited in their autonomic nervous system.
A father who grew up in scarcity may raise children who, even in abundance, feel guilty resting or taking up space. These imprints are adaptive, they helped someone survive once. But what was once protection can become limitation when it’s no longer needed.

Why does this show up in midlife?

To be fair it can show up earlier. It is just that in midlife, part of our developmental challenge is to come back to the truth of who we really are. This impulse can show up in a myriad of ways. Many people ignore it, so it will hang around until they pay attention. In my experience with my clients, there is a deep discomfort with life and a strong impulse or urge to seek more meaning, purpose, or something different. They find they cannot continue on the way they have been travelling so far.

As our hormonal landscape changes, our emotional landscape does too. The hormones that once buffered and balanced our stress responses shift, and the body’s elegant system of containment begins to loosen. Things that once slipped neatly under the surface start to rise. Old grief, ancestral sorrow, unprocessed experiences; they all start knocking on the door of awareness. So it is not that life suddenly gets harder it is that what has been kept buried in the dark, suddenly starts knocking on the door asking to be seen. While this can initially feel unsettling, it’s also profoundly healing. The body, in its own divine timing, invites us to metabolise what we’ve inherited, so we can step into the next chapter lighter and more integrated.

Our body is a storyteller.

In my work, I see how ancestral stories express themselves somatically. The body carries what hasn’t yet been felt or integrated. Chronic tension, gut and reproductive issues, or a sense of deep fatigue, often emerge as the body’s way of trying to resolve inherited stress.

I’ve worked with many women who, even after hysterectomy or menopause, still hold a palpable energetic imprint in the womb space. These might be a story of loss, silencing, or generational grief that predates their own experiences. When the body is met with compassion and attunement, those old imprints can begin to release. What was frozen starts to move.

Healing doesn’t always mean understanding the exact story, it means restoring a sense of safety so the body no longer has to carry it alone and the pattern that has been long held, can be expressed and completed because there is enough of a felt sense of safety in the body for it to let what has been stuck, be released.

Recognising that an inherited pattern lives within us is not about blame or burden, it’s about freedom. When we see that our over-responsibility, perfectionism, or shutdown might have roots in someone else’s survival, we can meet it with compassion rather than self-judgment. In that awareness, something softens.
We begin to relate to our own patterns differently, not as flaws to fix, but as messages from the body inviting us to complete what was once incomplete.

It is important to remember that these patterns and imprints you inherit, they come from survival and they also come from love. A mother’s hypervigilance was once love and protection of herself and her family. A grandfather’s stoicism was a protective response, grounded in love to protect himself and his family system. They did the best with what they had to keep surviving.

The ripple of healing.

The beauty of this work is: when we heal, we don’t just heal for ourselves. The nervous system reorganises and recalibrates. We slowly and gently start to change how we show up in relationships, in our families, and in our communities. That healing ripples backward and forward . It honours those who came before, and is freeing to those who will come after us.

Ancestral healing is not a thinking activity it is a somatic and relational one. The best therapeutic modalities to heal it are somatic experiencing, internal family systems, somatic attachment work like NARM, family constellations work and ritual, ceremony and nature based practices. Rarely is it one modality. It is often a few woven together to integrate, depending on what is showing up for an individual.

Ultimately the goal is about restoring flow and connection, within the body, within the family system and within the wider relational field of our lives.

As you read this, gently place a hand on your heart or your belly.
Feel your breath, and remember; you are part of a long line of survivors and lovers and dreamers.
What might shift if you allowed your body to trust that it no longer has to hold it all alone?

Menopause, coming home to the body's wisdom

It is world menopause awareness month, and like I do every year, I am going to write about it and focus on it for a few weeks. I coach clients through many different life transitions, and menopause wrapped into our broader midlife transition, is the most challenging many people experience. That is because for many of us, our body is going through such a profound shift and biological rewiring, that most of us cannot push through it.

Which is annoying for many because if you are a Gen Xer, you learned to be the Queen of the push through.

Much of the conversation around menopause today is about managing symptoms; balancing hormones, finding the right supplement, or seeking a medical fix for what feels uncomfortable. While these supports can be helpful, they only touch the surface of what this transition is truly inviting us into.

Menopause is not a medical condition to be managed. It’s a profound biological and emotional reorientation; a call to come home to the body’s wisdom after decades of living in our heads, pushing through, and taking care of everyone else.

For many of the women I work with, mostly Gen X women, this transition feels like hitting a wall. For those of us who grew up in the 1960s and 70s, a time when emotional awareness simply wasn’t part of family life, we are suddenly faced with a bucket load of previously ignored feelings and we cannot seem to stop them anymore. We never learned how to safely experience them in the first place. Major things happened in our families and in our communities when we were growing up, and often, no one talked about them. We spent our teenage years roaming the streets after school, hanging out with friends, figuring life out on our own. There was freedom in that, but also a quiet loneliness. We learned early on that to cope, we had to hold it together and we had to do that on our own or learn from each other.

I don’t know about you but I have never met a teenager with a regulated nervous system; its more about co-dysregulation that co-regulation. Which is not surprising given the hormonal shifts and brain rewiring going on in their bodies. Guess what? Our bodies are doing the same thing but in the opposite direction, preparing us for the next stage of life.

As a result, many of us became women who are both hyper-independent and who have incredibly high standards. We are for the most part, competent, capable, and relentlessly self-sufficient. We learned to fix things, to keep going, to never need too much. Somewhere along the way, we equated worthiness with being in control.

But menopause calls all of that into question.

The body begins to speak in new ways through heat, sleeplessness, tears, irritability, or sudden waves of emotion that can feel both foreign and inconvenient. These aren’t problems to be solved; they are signals from the body, asking for attention, softness, and presence.

In my work, I see how powerful it is when women learn to be with what’s happening rather than fight against it. When we slow down and notice the sensations moving through us, the tightness, the bracing, the pulsing, the warmth, the ache, we start to rebuild a relationship of trust with our own body. Over time, this presence helps us gently accept what arises and to fully inhabit our experience.

Many people find at this time in life they have to go back and educated themselves on many things about their body, particularly the impact of changes to our sex hormones, on the hormonal cocktail within our body. It is not just about estrogen and progesterone, there is also insulin, ghrelin, leptin and cortisol levels that are impact by these shifts. They impact both our metabolic health and also our emotional health because our endocrine system is the deepest system in our body and all our body systems work together.

As women learn about their changing body they become more comfortable in their it; they often notice that their relationships shift too. When we’re no longer fighting or fleeing from our own discomfort, we stop projecting it outward. There’s less reactivity with our partners, our kids, our colleagues. There’s more space for connection, empathy, and repair.

There is often a bit of work to do here because most of us did not have our emotional lives fostered as children and teenagers. Combine that with a good whack of cultural shame about having feelings, about women’s menstruality, about being a good girl and not rocking the boat, there is a lot of unpack.

Menopause will show you where you need to focus your attention because it will bring it up front and centre for you to pay attention to. If you don’t attend to it, it will just hang around until you do. So that anger and resentment that has reared its head. That is your body’s wisdom asking you to learn to hold healthy aggression in your body. We need to have anger, it protects our boundaries, it keeps us safe and it fuels our passions.

This is one of the quiet gifts of menopause: it brings us back into relationship, first with ourselves, and then with others.

But this process isn’t easy for our generation. We were raised to keep moving, to stay strong, to fix. Softening, resting, and receiving can feel unnatural, even wrong. Yet that’s precisely what this life stage is asking of us. It’s a somatic initiation, a shift from doing to being, from control to surrender, from self-criticism to self-compassion.

When we begin to trust the body’s wisdom, menopause becomes less about loss and more about liberation. It’s an opportunity to unlearn the old patterns that kept us safe but small, and to step into a more grounded, embodied form of power. One that no longer relies on effort, but on presence.

Menopause isn’t the end of vitality. It’s the beginning of living from a deeper, wiser rhythm, one that the body has known all along. It is a gentle reminder to pause, breathe and notice what your body is telling you.

The power of midlife initiation

Our culture, driven by the cosmetics industry, has created a very distorted, narrow narrative around women, ageing and menopause. One the one hand we are subjected to endless anti-ageing advertising that equates youth with worth, desirability and visibility. On the other side there is a one size fits all mainstream solution, given to women when they reach perimenopause or menopause that HRT will solve all their problems and you can carry on as if nothing has changed.

All of this ignore a deeper truth; menopause is not a problem to fix. It is a profound transition physiologically, psychological and spiritually. In many cultures, it has been seen as an initiation into wisdom and power. Our western productivity focused culture, dismisses that and is focused on keeping women youthful and functional rather than moving through this transition with dignity, agency and choice.

What is frustrating for me about this is it creates many big losses and maladaptive issues. The two biggest I see are:

• They don’t get the holistic support they need to actually learn to listen to their body, honour its new rhythms and integrate changes and,

• For society in general, we miss out on the leadership, wisdom and creativity once women aren’t hormonally geared toward reproduction and are able and free to channel that energy somewhere else.

When women step into this new season of life, they expand into their social and relational power. This is the stage of eldership, where wisdom, creativity, and leadership can flourish.

I am not saying HRT is wrong, it can be super supportive when you are going through this transition which takes years, but it shouldn’t be the only story. Midlife offers an invitation to step into a new way of being with our body and with life itself, rather than staying locked in the old story.

Menopause, when not pathologised, is often a time when childhood and ancestral trauma comes to the surface, because the body is less able and willing to keep these patterns locked down. Hormonal changes will drive changes in the autonomic nervous system (ANS) so layers of freeze stuck in the ANS can come up strongly. It is your body telling you it cannot carry this anymore.

I do a lot of work helping women reclaim healthy aggression and what I find is that we are so culturally conditioned to suppress our anger, which is suppressing our life force energy, our boundaries and our right to take up space. So doing this work to reclaim our aggression is deeply countercultural. Because what the cultural script tells women is quiet down, look young, stay useful in ways we deem okay (appearance, productivity and caretaking). The deep truth about menopause is it asks us to reclaim all of this. It is inviting us to reclaim our vitality in a different form, one that is fierce, wise, protective and deeply relational.

In modern society we see a loss of interdependence in modern family systems. In many cultures, grandmothers were never ‘done’ after menopause. They became pivotal in holding the community web, through storytelling, wisdom keeping, guiding younger adults, offering support to children without being a primary caregiver. Our isolated nuclear family model is what contributes heavily to burning women out, not the fact that they are ageing.

So the cultural story becomes ‘you are no longer fertile you are less valuable’. When actually the truth is the opposite. This is the time in life when women expand their social and relational roles, if the culture allows it. Throughout my career I have seen many women thrive once they entered midlife, either in new business ventures, in community work, in advocacy work. They really are in their prime.

So this life stage is not just about personal healing, it is about cultural repair.

Midlife is this pivot point: either a woman breaks free from the old narratives and survival patterns, or she risks staying trapped in victimhood, silence, or suppression. When a whole generation of women stays trapped, society loses out on the wisdom, leadership, and fierce love that could be shaping our communities, workplaces, and systems.

At a peace summit in Vancouver in 2009 the Dalai Lama said ‘the world will be saved by the western women’. Well I think its women globally actually. If women embrace this midlife initiation, they don’t just heal themselves, they begin to model a different way of being in power. A power that is relational, embodied, self-authored, and deeply interconnected into the web of life around them.

When a woman can step through her midlife transition with the right support, they don’t just attend to their own healing and personal growth, they become catalysts for cultural change. Connecting to their voice, their presence, expanding their capacity to step into and become their personal power, ripples out into families, workplaces and communities.

This is the work of midlife: not just healing ourselves, but reshaping the world through connection with the deep essence of who we really are and the authority of who we are becoming.

When Hormones stop hiding the Truth. Perimenopause exhaustion, the reckoning after survival mode

I was having a conversation with one of my sons the other day about parenting now versus what I received. He thought it wasn’t much different accept for the presence of technology and having to navigate the impact of that on children. I said it was different because our parents often had their parents nearby and we were also a part of a community who looked after each other. Today we live in such an individualistic way and whilst in our area we have a strong community, the fact remains that people are really busy and trying to get by the best they know how and having to do it largely on their own.

Then I thought to myself, so many of the women I work with arrive at perimenopause in survival mode. Completely exhausted from all their years of mothering. For many, the years of mothering where we have sleep deprivation, a heavy emotional labour that we carry and years of trying to juggle work and home, the endless giving of energy mean that they live in a constant state of adrenaline and cortisol, just to get through the day. The lack of the ‘village’, of communal nervous system regulation means women are doing it alone all the time.

The workplaces we are in are designed for male bodies that have a linear hormonal cycle, predictable energy no ebb or flow. Not a 28 day cycle that has big fluctuations. Women’s bodies are cyclical, not linear. Energy, focus, and capacity shift across the menstrual cycle, and later in life, across hormonal seasons. But the expectation is “always on,” with no space for luteal slowdown, rest, or recalibration.

As technology innovation, particularly with AI and productivity culture has become the norm we see 24/7 emails and messaging which results in blurred boundaries. The demand is: faster, always available, produce more. Women’s bodies , designed for rhythmic cycles of activity and rest, are being pushed into an unnatural pace. This results in dysregulation, burnout, sleep disruption, and a sense of disconnection from their body wisdom.

As we normalise this we tell ourselves, this is what mothering means today, this is what being an adult woman means today. But the cost is high because our nervous system becomes very frayed and depleted. So by the time perimenopause arrives and estrogen and progesterone are both low, we experience; disturbed sleep, small stressors can trigger big reactions, our emotional regulation is harder, and or body doesn’t bounce back the same way it used to.

Most of us haven’t learned much about the impact of our hormones on our nervous system at all.

So yes, there is a question we have to explore about learning about our hormones and their impact on our nervous system and our behaviour. But for me, the bigger question is; How do we design lives, workplaces, and communities that honour the body, especially the cyclical, relational, deeply intuitive female body? And if you are thinking male bodies aren’t impacted by all of this, think again. Until we address all of this, our health, healing our nervous system, learning to find some regulation, it will all feel like we are swimming upstream.

Perimenopause as Turning point.

The reality is perimenopause often reveals to us the impact of decades living in survival mode. As estrogen and progesterone decline, their buffering affects on the nervous system start to fade. Estrogen is supportive of bonding, it is the soothing and accommodation hormone, it supports oxytocin and the bonding and pleasure from connection that that brings. Progesterone brings us calm. Also these two hormones don’t decline in an orderly fashion during our perimenopause transition. Progesterone declines first and estrogen has lots of ups and downs that makes us feel internally chaotic, as it moves towards its lower levels once we reach menopause. What they do both reveal is nervous system exhaustion and without their support we can no longer mask the cost of being in survival mode.

Art - Visions in Blue

Oxytocin, pleasure and women’s nervous systems

Oxytocin is a key neuromodulator of the female nervous system. For male bodies Dopamine does this. Pleasure, touch, connection and community increase oxytocin, which builds resilience and vagal tone. Reduced estrogen can reduce oxytocin but pleasure can replenish it. Pleasure isn’t an indulgence, it is biology. Every moment of genuine pleasure — a hug, gentle self-touch, laughter with a friend, being moved by music, lying in the sun, safe intimacy, sexual and sensual pleasure — stimulates oxytocin, the neuromodulator that calms the female nervous system. Oxytocin counters cortisol and adrenaline, it strengthens vagal tone (our capacity to return to calm) and it builds a felt sense of safety and belonging. When you look at from this perspective, pleasure becomes medicine for midlife. It replenishes what decades of survival mode drained away.

Vagal Tone and Menopause

Vagal tone measures the activity of the vagus nerve, which regulates the body's "rest and digest" functions, and it's often assessed through heart rate variability (HRV). So Vagal tone is the body’s ability to regulate stress and return to calm. A lower vagal tone = more reactivity, poor recovery from stress, disrupted sleep. Estrogen decline may reduce vagal tone, making regulation harder. There are practices that help: yoga nidra, breathwork, gentle movement, singing/humming, somatic experiencing, safe touch. Yoga Nidra has been a game changer for me and I have found when I do it consistently, I sleep well. My brain also feels more relaxed. Somatic experiencing has many ways it helps but in this context it helps people build their interoception which is their ability to be with their internal experience - feelings, sensations, emotions. So when we become dysregulated it can be so helpful because we have a connection with all our feelings and emotions and have strategies to be with them and let them move through us. Rather than resisting them. All of this isn’t just “self-care”, it’s rewiring the nervous system for the next stage of life.

The bigger question: Lifestyle and systemic change

The real problem isn’t our biology - it is the culture we live in. Lack of community, unsupportive workplaces, and unrealistic expectations push women into survival mode. Women’s cyclical bodies need rhythms of rest and renewal, but society doesn’t recognise or honour them. We are made to feel like something is wrong with us. We are made to feel we are not resilient enough. Menopause is clever in many ways, It is a truth teller that often opens our eyes to dysfunction in our facets of our life. Culturally it reveals this mismatch. It’s not a personal failing; it’s a cultural design flaw. I wonder what would happen if work hours were designed around the rhythms of a female body?

Post Menopause brings Sovereignty

Menopause is not just loss, it’s an initiation into a new stage of power. With nervous system healing, women can access deeper calm, intuition, and authority. Post-menopause can be a time of reclaiming sovereignty, no longer running on survival mode but living in alignment with what nourishes us. Menopause is the autumn season of our life and often involves lots of reflection and review where we are called to let go of what we don’t need anymore. Many women often find their physical and mental health creates a strong impetus for all these changes to happen. It is hard to ignore what no longer works for us.

Menopause is not a medical “problem”it is a cultural opportunity: a chance to change how we live. Every time a woman honours her cycle, chooses rest, or reclaims pleasure, she disrupts the old patriarchal model and helps build a new one. So here we arrive with an invitation. What would it look like if we built a culture that truly supported women’s bodies — not just to survive, but to thrive?

For me the bigger question here is It’s not women’s bodies that are broken. It’s the systems we’re forced to live in that ignore how women’s bodies actually work.

Why the feminine is the change maker - part 2

Last week I started this conversation about why the feminine energy in our culture tends to be the instigator of change. I know this is not always true but I do find that many women whether by choice or force of life events, tend to explore themselves deeply and the fact that we have this deep inner knowing which I talked about in last week’s blog which means we tend to read the ‘tea leaves’ and know when it’s time for change.

Anecdotally, when I think about all the training and professional development I have done over the years, there has always been a much higher percentage of female participants than male participants and so we notice this and we talk about it. You could complain about it and say men don’t do the hard work, but I don’t think this is entirely true because I have lots of male clients and friends who have committed to exploring themselves, but to be honest it is usually after something going really wrong in their lives. Maybe it is that it is women who are the instigators of change in relationships, in families, in cultures. Many studies of couples on relationships and marriages consistently show that around 70% of divorces are instigated by women.

There are many ways we can explore why this happens and I always love taking a Jungian lens on what is actually happening because it always explores the shadow side of everything which I find super interesting. If we look through a Jungian lens, It is always the masculine within the feminine that changes first. In Jungian parlance, the animus (the inner masculine in a woman) seeks direction, clarity, and forward motion. When a woman begins her transformation (say, through grief, menopause, creativity, or awakening), it’s often her inner masculine that reorients first, perhaps by finding new values, boundaries, or purpose. Once that internal alignment shifts, her outer relationships must also adjust. How I notice this in clients is they cannot pretend to be anything other than their authentic selves anymore and this often causes friction in different relationships in their lives as this authentic self in them is emerging. Things can be a bit wobbly for a while as she finds comfort with meeting these new parts of self.

And yes, often this catalyses change in the masculine partner or in the wider system. But not always right away. Sometimes the feminine awakens and moves first, and the masculine (whether internal or external) resists or lags—until it feels safe or necessary to catch up. That friction can either break the container or refine it.

Digital image - Womb in the Sky, Kellie Stirling

Why does the feminine change first?

In the simplest form, we are the ones who can create life and give birth to that. Even beyond biological birth, the feminine is the archetypal womb—the container that holds, gestates, dissolves, and re-emerges. This role isn’t limited to women, but in most systems, it is the feminine energy that initiates the deep work: the descent, the death, the regeneration. Women, especially at midlife, often step into this initiatory role on behalf of their families, partnerships, and communities.

It’s like we become the crucible in which the old dies and the new is born. Let’s look at it from a few different perspectives:

• Biologically: Our hormonal cycles force us into regular encounters with change. Life transitions like menstruation, pregnancy, birth, perimenopause, and menopause demand transformation. For example, every month when we have menstrual cycles, we are moving through a cycle of change, a cycle of birth, death, rebirth metaphorically speaking that is experienced in an embodied way with our menstrual cycles.

• Emotionally: The feminine is finely attuned to relational field dynamics because we have lots of estrogen which helps creates oxytocin. Our nervous system is regulated by oxytocin which acts as a neuro-modulator. Neuro-modulators fine tune and shape how our nervous system reacts to stimuli over time. So we become more relationally attuned and attuned to social safety. We feel what’s missing, what’s breaking down, or what wants to emerge sooner. So oxytocin plays an enormous role in regulating arousal, stress responses and healing.

• Spiritual/Archetypal: The feminine holds the wisdom of the underworld. We know how to descend and return with insight. That’s where true alchemy happens.

So when it comes to relationships, often, when a woman begins to change, it upsets the systemic homeostasis of the relationship. If she holds the relational field (as is often the case), any shift she makes is deeply felt by the other. This can either provoke resistance or invite the partner to evolve too. Sometimes both. In this sense, women often become the alchemical fire that either transforms or reveals what’s no longer sustainable.

Why the feminine are the change makers - part 1

I have been doing a bit of work with a biodynamic cranio osteopath on my pelvis. I have had pelvic issues for years, predominantly starting with a car accident as a kid, and things just go layered upon it. I have worked with different body workers over the years and I have to say it is in a pretty good state now. If you aren’t familiar with this modality it is a lot of neuro-affective touch work, and the body in all its wisdom and intelligence, reorganises, because it knows how to heal. It is very similar to the touch work we do sometimes in somatic experiencing.

My osteopath and I have big chats when I am on the table. Last session she asked me “do you think it is trauma that causes all the autoimmune issues in women”. (if you don’t know the stats, something like 80% of autoimmune condition sufferers are female bodies). I said sometimes, but I think it is because as women we carry so much of the relational field and after a while that takes an enormous toll on a woman’s body if there is not enough sharing of the load going on in the family system or she does not have a good circle of support around her. After a period of time the body screams whether it be relational rupture, physical pain or discomfort, illness. It tells us, things need to change now!

So let’s talk about that because there is a price we pay for holding the relational field.

Why do we hold the relational field and how does it prime us to lead change?

Well some of it is biological, some is cultural and some is archetypal.

Biologically and neurologically we are wired for connection. Our estrogen creates the oxytocin that drives us to connect and attune to our children.

Women’s bodies are literally designed to attune:

• Oxytocin, the bonding hormone, is more prevalent in women. It surges during intimacy, birth, breastfeeding—but also during conversation and emotional connection.

• Our mirror neuron systems, which help us sense and empathise with others' emotions, tend to be more active.

• From a nervous system lens, many women are socialised (and biologically primed) to track relational dynamics, often before we even understand we’re doing it.

The social conditioning is strong. From a young age, girls are typically taught to; caretake others’ feelings, keep the peace, maintain connection and be “good,” agreeable, relationally aware. We are socialised to value harmony over truth.

On a deeper level, the feminine principle (not just in women, but especially expressed through them) is associated with; holding, containing, gestating, weaving the web between things

So the relational field—that unseen space between people where emotion, meaning, energy, and nervous system cues travel—is often carried by the feminine. Not because it’s our duty, but because we feel it first, and most acutely.

Women tend to track what's happening in the in-between. This might look like noticing when something feels “off” even if nothing is said, adjusting ourselves to keep harmony, carrying the emotional labour of a relationship or family.

While this conditioning can be limiting, it also hones an early sensitivity to emotional tone, unspoken tensions, and disconnection. We’re trained, often unconsciously, to sense and hold the relational space around us. My neighbour always said to me, ‘if mum is okay the whole family functions well. If she is not the cracks start to occur’. We are the emotional anchor in the family system.

From a more archetypal or somatic-mystic view, the womb is not just a biological organ but a relational centre; a place where life is created, held, and nourished. Even for women who do not have a physical womb, the energetic imprint always remains. The womb and ovaries have a incredibly strong energetic imprint, so even if you have an hysterectomy, the energetic imprint never leaves you.

This womb-space can sense the field like a tuning fork. It picks up resonance and dissonance, and often prompts us to move toward repair, connection, or withdrawal. So even beyond personality, trauma history, or conditioning—there is an embodied deep knowing that many women carry. A sense of what’s happening in the space between.

The big challenge.

Many women hold the relational field at the expense of themselves.

We track everyone else’s nervous systems, needs, moods—and forget our own. We become hyper-attuned, hyper-responsible, and depleted. This is where somatic reclamation, reconnecting with our body, becomes essential. Learning the skills to come back to your body so you can hear it when it is speaking to you. We learn to track ourselves first, then engage from a resourced place. This is what transforms holding the relational field from a burden into a gift.

It is this gift, that tells us when change is needed.

Women don’t hold the relational field because we ‘should’, we hold it because we are tuned to life, to connection, to what moves between. To coherence in the field, to what is working well and what is not working well.

Midlife, when the cost and payment becomes due.

In midlife, the body begins to speak more loudly. Years of holding the field—of tracking, softening, absorbing—can begin to show up as: chronic fatigue, autoimmune conditions, thyroid dysfunction, mystery symptoms, emotional exhaustion and uproar or a sense of grief no one can name.

Many women reach a point where their bodies refuse to keep playing the role. Where the cost of emotional labor has accumulated and the body keeps the score. Not because we are broken. But because we are done.

I often wonder if all of these health issues in midlife or the tough perimenopause journey experienced by some midlife women are the body’s way of saying:

“You’ve spent a lifetime turning against yourself to preserve connection. Now I’m turning inward to get your attention.”

It’s not our fault. But it is our invitation—to begin again, from the inside out

But we’re also being called now to hold it differently; not by abandoning ourselves, but by anchoring into our bodies, our knowing, our rhythm.

That is where true healing begins, not just for us, but for the whole field we’re in.

The healing path isn’t about abandoning our relational gifts. It’s about reclaiming ourselves as part of the field we’re so attuned to.

It’s about learning to: track our own nervous systems first, let others hold space for us, to feel safe saying no, set boundaries without guilt and recognising that we are not here to carry it all alone

This is where deep nervous system healing and somatic work become essential. They help us untangle the pattern of self-abandonment woven into our care.

We were never meant to carry it all.

We are capable of holding so much but we were not meant to hold all of the emotional dysregulation of others, all of the unspoken weight of a relationship. Nor were we meant to hold all of the relational field of a family, the workplace, the world - at the cost and detriment of our own health.

This is a huge price to pay and our midlife transition is the initiation into change we need to let some or all of it go. When this initiation happens it causes change in all the relational fields we are in.

So if you are finding ourself, exhausted or unravelling at midlife, you are not failing, your are awakening. Your body is asking you to step out of the role of ‘holding all the relational energy’ return to yourself.

I work with women who are ready to listen to what their bodies are saying, to come home to their own rhythm, needs, and truth.

Part 2, coming next week…..

The Siren, the Queen Bee and the Journey back to Self

It was my birthday last week, I had a really great week. As I move further into my fifties I have to say I love this time in life so much. I remember one of my coach colleagues, who is ten years older than me, saying to me about 5 years ago, “Oh the fifties are the best”. I have to say that so far, I whole heartedly agree. There is something really great about not having your life run by estrogen and knowing yourself so well - and being more than happy to explore the deep and dark places when they come up. It is liberating. This is the thing about midlife, we talk about it being empowering and it definitely is. But it is more than that. It is liberation. It is not reinvention but remembering.

Midlife is the moment we stop performing. We descent, we grieve. And, we rise knowing who we are.

Over the weekend, I watched the Netflix series Sirens. I went in expecting dark comedy and fantasy. It was all that but there was also a lot of the cultural underbelly on display. And yes, there were nods to the mythical Sirens—those seductive, powerful figures feared for luring men to their doom—and to Persephone, who descends to the underworld and rises as Queen.

But what stayed with me was something more subtle. More familiar.

The story centred around women who contort themselves—twist their truth, their instincts, their bodies, their very being—to belong. And what shook me was how often I see this in the real world, especially in the women I work with. I see it on social media all the the time. I find it bizarre that there is a whole fashion trend of people dressing in a way that makes them look wealthy. The whole anti-ageing story crafted by the skincare industry; it is really insane. Why does a 65 year old woman have to have skin the looks like a 25 year old’s?

After watching, I turned to my husband and said something about how heartbreaking it was, but also how powerful it is to have a television show that cleverly shows us the mirror on the collective unconscious. He looked at me and said, “This is your work. You help people come back to their authentic selves, their essence.”

He was right.

So many of the people I work with—especially women in midlife—come to me having spent years (even decades) twisting themselves into shapes they were told would bring them love, safety, or acceptance. They’ve played the roles: the good daughter, the accommodating partner, the high-achieving professional, the one who keeps the peace. But beneath all that performance is often a profound grief: the grief of self-abandonment.

That shows up in many different ways, it can be anger, deep sadness and grief, and also a deep searching for something different or more.

Mythology offers us maps for these kinds of journeys. The Siren is often seen as dangerous, but perhaps she’s just a woman who refused to stay quiet. And Persephone? She was taken underground, but she didn’t just return—she rose transformed, a ruler in her own right. Stripped of her ego and connected to her core self.

There’s another layer to the story that cut even deeper. One of the central characters—the so-called “queen bee”—is replaced. (sorry for the spoiler if you haven’t watched it yet) She’s ousted by a younger, much less confident version of herself. At first, we’re led to believe, the Queen Bee is the villain; she was behaving pretty badly. Then we think the younger replacement maybe is, but we soon see the truth. It was her billionaire ex-husband, who represents the culture of patriarchy, who had the real power all along. A cultural narrative, that builds women up, shapes them to a particular taste, then discards them when it gets bored or their behaviour no longer suits.

And what struck me most is this:
She had contorted herself to make him/them happy.
She had shaped her power around what he wanted, not what was true for her.

I see this in so many women in midlife. They realise, often with some pain, that the power they thought was theirs… wasn’t. It was bestowed—by a relationship, a career, a title, a system. It could be taken away. And often, it is. They don’t know who they are without it.

That’s the heartbreak. But it’s also the turning point.

Because when a woman realises she’s been performing power rather than embodying it, she can begin a different journey. One that doesn’t require contortion. One that descends into grief, yes—but also into truth. Into agency. Into the kind of power that can’t be stripped away. She becomes authoring and starts to write her own story.

These stories speak to the deeper truth: that reclaiming your voice, your instincts, your knowing, often requires going into the underworld of your own psyche. It means feeling the grief of the parts you've left behind. It means listening to the song of the Siren—not the one the world fears, but the one that sings from within your own bones.

This is the kind of healing work I guide people through. It’s somatic. It’s slow. It’s deep. We listen to the body, not just the mind. We notice the nervous system patterns shaped by a lifetime of contorting. And over time, a different kind of belonging emerges—one that doesn’t require performance, one that comes from being rooted in your own truth.

The journey isn't linear. Like Persephone, we may descend many times in our lives. But each time, we bring back more of ourselves. And eventually, we stop contorting to fit the world—and start shaping a world that fits us.

It’s not about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you are when you stop performing. When you stop shaping yourself around what others want and start listening to your own body, your own knowing, your own nervous system.

If you're in that moment of reckoning…
If you're realising the version of power you held was conditional…
If you’re longing to come back to the essence of who you are—
I’d love to walk with you.

If this resonates with you—if you feel like you’ve been contorting for too long, or if you’re longing to find your way back to your own voice and centre—I’d love to support you. I offer one-on-one coaching and somatic work for women navigating life transitions, grief, and the reclamation of self. You can learn more about working with me or reach out to talk about coaching.

Your real power is not out there.
It’s in you.
And it’s waiting to be reclaimed.

Your journey home to yourself is sacred. You don’t have to do it alone.

The energetics of betrayal

Betrayal is one of the deepest wounds a human can carry — not just because of what happened, but because of the energetic imprint it leaves behind.

When betrayal comes early, it doesn't just teach the mind something — it teaches the body, the heart, and the nervous system. When the betrayal has come from our caregivers the very people who were supposed to love us, keep us safe, and foster our sense of belonging in the world, it teaches that connection isn’t safe, that trusting others is dangerous and that perhaps maybe, trusting myself is dangerous.

The very parts of us that long for closeness are forced to adapt. They learn to duck, weave, armour up, or disappear. They do whatever it takes to avoid feeling that devastating rupture again.

The Energetic Imprint of Early Betrayal

Betrayal creates a deep rupture in the fabric of trust and it doesn’t go away. For many people, the pain of betrayal doesn’t start in adult relationships. It begins much earlier, in the formative years of childhood or adolescence, when someone they relied on — a parent, caregiver, or close friend — didn’t show up in a way that felt safe or consistent.

When betrayal happens early, it etches a kind of template into the nervous system. One that says: “People can’t be trusted.” Or “I have to protect myself because no one else will.” These imprints often live just beneath the surface subtly shaping how we engage, withdraw, or defend ourselves in relationships.

In human terms, that energetic scar can show up as:

• Hypervigilance, constantly scanning for signs of disloyalty or danger.

• Emotional ducking and weaving , avoiding directness for fear of being hurt.

• Self-sabotage, abandoning ourselves or others before they can abandon us.

• Self-betrayal , silencing our needs and instincts in an effort to stay “safe.”

• Avoidance of connection, having relationships that are light or transactional to avoid getting hurt.

• Constant fawning an over-functioning to stay safe within relationships, over attaching, ignoring our own boundaries to avoid further harm.

At a body level, betrayal activates the primal fear of annihilation: "If the people I'm attached to hurt or abandon me, I might not survive." Many people with this wound feel misunderstood and lonely in relationships.

Early friendships and our first lessons in trust

While early caregiver betrayal leaves a profound mark, it's important to recognise that peer relationships — especially in late childhood and early adolescence — can also create powerful energetic imprints.

Many years ago, I was at a Trauma conference lead by Bessel van der Kolk. We were talking about how tween years developmentally, are important when it comes to relationships because they are the first experience we have with betrayal. He explained that the 9–12 year-old stage for kids and girls in particular, is a crucial time for learning about trust, loyalty, honesty, and boundaries. During this time, friendships often become intense and emotionally charged. Young people are testing the waters of emotional intimacy, authority, and social belonging outside of their families for the first time.

He said, ‘12 year old girls are the meanest people on the planet’, we all giggled because we could all relate at some level. This is not because they are inherently cruel, but because they are instinctively testing how far loyalty stretches, what betrayal feels like, and where their own boundaries begin and end.

These early friendship betrayals — being excluded, gossiped about, shamed, or losing a "best friend", can leave scars just as deep as familial betrayals. You may be thinking is there any way we can prevent this? Developmentally, these early close friendships give tweens practice for navigating their first intimate relationships in their teenage years. What is important as parents, is that we offer containment for our teenagers during these years so they are able to process these emotional experiences in a healthy way and they do this through our co-regulation. When you parent teenagers, you will find that what they need is a lot of containment to help them feel all the big feelings they are having which are often overwhelming because of their hormonal surges.

When they don’t receive that co-regulation and containment, they are left out on a limb to navigate this on their own and their nervous system will most likely be quite overwhelmed by this. They may develop unhealthy adaptive strategies to cope and what they will learn is that trust can be dangerous, speaking the truth gets you abandoned and ignored, and your vulnerability can be used against you.

For many women especially, these early relational wounds create an energetic template that later influences teenage romances, adult friendships, and even professional relationships.

Unless tended to, these imprints can quietly guide our choices, our trust levels, and our capacity for authentic connection, long into adulthood.

What happens when betrayal wounds show up at work?

Betrayal doesn’t just haunt our intimate relationships — it shows up everyday in our professional lives too. Most organisations lack any psychological safety and one of the reasons for this (there are many more) is that many people carry an unconscious expectation that colleagues, bosses, or teams will betray them.

As a result, they hold back: not speaking up in meetings, withholding ideas, disengaging from group dynamics, or interpreting neutral interactions through a lens of mistrust. Some may skip meetings or avoid collaborative projects altogether — not out of laziness, but because their nervous system is protecting them from what it perceives as a relational threat. The workplace becomes a battleground of unhealed childhood and teenage wounds, silently shaping how we show up or don’t.

What is the impact of our younger parts taking the lead in our adult relationships?

When betrayal wounds go unhealed, younger parts of ourselves — child parts, teenage parts — often step in to lead adult relationships.

These parts don’t have the skills for mature communication. They know how to survive, but not how to thrive. They know how to protect, but not how to open.

So we might find ourselves communicating indirectly, lashing out, withdrawing without explanation, testing others unconsciously, or assuming we’ll be misunderstood before we’ve even spoken. Our inner child has no place running our adult relationships and when it dominates our behaviour and decisions it often leads to poor choices and outcomes.

Poor communication is not just a skill gap; it's often a symptom of an unhealed betrayal wound.

How betrayal wounds shape who we draw in

One of the most painful patterns is that unhealed betrayal often pulls us toward people who cannot meet us, as friends, lovers or partners, unless they’ve done their own deep healing work.

Without realising it, we may magnetise:

• People who are unavailable, distracted, or unreliable.

• People who cannot understand or hold our unspoken pain.

• People who, energetically, mirror the early betrayals we experienced.

It's as if the energetic wound keeps echoing outward, unconsciously seeking resolution, while simultaneously protecting itself from getting too close. This will keep happening until we do our own healing, the pattern tends to repeat.

What most people find when they do the healing work on these relational wounds, is that they charge they felt when connecting with people who couldn’t meet their needs goes away. They start being attracted to a different type of person.

Image- Kellie Stirling

Healing the energetics of betrayal

Healing betrayal isn’t about telling yourself to "just trust people" again. It's about repairing the energetic fractures in your system, slowly, gently, consistently.

Here’s how it often begins:

1. Rebuilding Trust with Yourself

Betrayal healing involves learning to stay with yourself rather than abandoning your truth to stay safe. Tiny, consistent acts of self-loyalty rebuild trust from the inside out. Keeping promises to yourself. Honouring your needs. Setting boundaries by learning what a Yes, No and Maybe feels like in your body and then learning to listen to that in your body will help to build this skills. Each act sends a signal to your system: I am safe with myself now.

2. Listening to the Younger Parts

Instead of shaming the child or teenage parts for their survival strategies, we acknowledge them and we listen to them. We learn how to reparent them. We show up as the adult they needed but didn't have.

3. Creating Repair Experiences

In safe, steady relationships — whether with a friend, therapist, coach, or partner — you practice staying present through small ruptures and repairs. Many of us haven’t learn how to have a repair conversation when we have a relational rupture. This is an incredibly important relating skill to learn and it is something our children learn through our role modelling of it. Each moment of being seen, heard, and stayed-with, rewires the nervous system’s expectation that betrayal is inevitable.

4. Tending the Nervous System

Betrayal activates primal states of fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Through somatic practices — grounding, orienting, gentle self-touch, breathwork — we teach the body that it is no longer trapped in the past.

Healing betrayal is like tending a storm-battered tree. We don't expect it to "get over" the damage overnight. This is slow, long and steady work. We nurture its roots, protect its tender branches, and trust that over time, it will grow stronger — not despite the scars, but through them.

Building a new kind of loyalty to yourself

When we heal the energetic imprints of betrayal — whether they originated from family or early friendships — we become fiercely loyal to ourselves. Not in a hardened, guarded, self-centred way, but in a rooted, emotionally mature, self-authoring way.

From there, we begin to choose relationships differently. We communicate more cleanly. We are able to ask for our desires and we learn to recognise when someone cannot meet us — and we no longer abandon ourselves trying to make them.

And most importantly, we remember: Betrayal does not define us.

The way we choose to heal, love, and live — that’s what shapes who we become.

If you need some support with betrayal wounds so that you can thrive in your relationships, come talk to me about relationship coaching or somatic experiencing.

Reclaiming menopause as a sacred rite

Somewhere along the way, we have lost our way about the life transition in midlife.

Menopause—this sacred threshold in a woman’s life—has been reduced in the dominant narrative to a list of symptoms to manage, a decline to delay, a hormonal malfunction to correct. It’s treated as pathology. As though something is wrong with you. As though you are breaking down.

And every time I hear that framing, I feel a deep ache in my gut. Because it’s not only wrong—it’s harmful. It robs us of the true power and meaning of this life stage. It narrows it down and over simplifies it. More than that, it obscures the possibility that this transition could be the beginning of something more, not less.

In my work with women moving through midlife, I see something astonishing. When the noise of cultural conditioning is quieted—when we slow down enough to listen to our bodies and our deeper rhythms—what emerges is not depletion. It’s ripening. A flourishing. Something ancient and wise begins to move through. The psyche softens. The soul speaks louder. A different kind of power shows up.

A Culture That Fears Ageing

We live in a world obsessed with youth and productivity. That obsession comes at a great cost. It leaves little room for the natural seasons of life and no roadmap for the descent that midlife brings.

In the medical system, menopause is often treated as a condition to be treated. In the workplace, it’s barely acknowledged. Even in leadership and personal development spaces, there’s an undercurrent of “fix it, push through, stay relevant.” But menopause isn’t asking us to push through. It’s asking us to look deep within and to go downward.

It is, in many ways, an initiation our culture has forgotten how to hold.

The Sacred Descent of Midlife

There is a path in the mystical traditions known as the via negativa—the path of unmaking, undoing, letting go. It is not a glamorous path, but it is a sacred one. Many times during our life we are called into the path of the via negtiva. It is the path of letting go.

Midlife calls us into that descent. It asks us to shed identities we’ve outgrown. To let go of belief systems that no longer serve us. To lay down roles that once defined us. To grieve the things that will never be. And in that letting go, we begin to remember who we are beneath the masks.

This descent is not a breakdown. It is a re-rooting. It is the composting of what no longer serves into the fertile soil of wisdom. And yes, it can be disorienting. But it can also be deeply freeing.

Becoming Ourselves by Deepening, Not Striving

In this season of life, with our hormonal cocktail changing, the nervous system begins to tell the truth we may have avoided for years. The body no longer tolerates what once was bearable. The soul begins to whisper (or sometimes roar), asking for integrity, alignment, authenticity.

This isn’t about striving to become some upgraded version of ourselves. It’s about softening into who we’ve always been. It’s about expanding our capacity to feel—grief, joy, awe—and to live from a place that’s more honest, more grounded, more whole.

This is where somatic work is a game-changer. By learning to be with our sensations, to regulate our systems, to hold ourselves in the tender places, we create the space to truly meet ourselves. Not as a project to fix, but as a mystery to unfold.

Stepping Into Stewardship

The journey doesn’t stop with self-discovery. There is another unfolding—one that calls us into relationship with community, with the next generation, with the wider web of life. We often find our passions and interests broadening to issues of the wider system, of community.

This is the forgotten role of the elder. Not just someone who is older, but someone who has metabolized their life experience into wisdom. Someone who can hold space for others, offer perspective, and serve as a steady presence in uncertain times.

Our communities are starved of elders. Not because they don’t exist, but because the path to eldership has been erased. What if we reclaimed it? What if menopause was not the end of relevance, but the beginning of true leadership?

We don’t just become an elder by getting older. This work requires us to do the deep self inquiry, the deep integration work on ourselves. When we can reclaim the lost parts of ourselves and invite them all to coexist together. When we can honour their voices and tend to them when they need support.

Regulation as a Return to our Blueprint

One of the most powerful shifts I witness in the women I work with—one I’ve lived myself—is what happens when we begin to create more capacity in the nervous system.

It sounds simple. But it’s deeply radical.

So many women have been running on high alert for decades—juggling careers, caregiving, emotional labor, all while trying to keep it together. Their bodies are stuck in “go” mode, and rest doesn’t feel safe. Stillness feels unfamiliar. Slowing down can feel like failure—or worse, danger.

So the work begins gently. We slow down, yes—but we also build the internal scaffolding to support that slowing down. We build safety in the body through somatic practices. We learn to recognize sensation without needing to fix it. We explore the thinking patterns that reinforce overdoing. And little by little, something begins to shift.

There’s more space inside.

And in that space, something magical happens. Life doesn’t get easier—but it becomes more liveable. Triggers still arise, but they’re like whispers instead of alarms. You start to notice: “Ah, there’s that pattern again”—and you choose how to respond instead of being hijacked by it. The nervous system no longer dictates your reactions. You come home to yourself.

This is what I mean by returning to our core, our blueprint.

Not just physically—though that’s part of it. But to the energetic and psychological centre of who you are. That place in the body where you are most you—before the world told you who to be. That grounded, wise, tender place that knows how to move through life with presence.

It’s not about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you’ve always been—beneath the striving, beneath the masks, beneath the noise.

And that remembering? That is the real gift of this life stage.

This return to the core also supports what I believe is the central developmental challenge of midlife: radical honesty. Not the performative kind, but the deeply embodied kind—the honesty that arises when you’re no longer willing to betray yourself. At this life stage, we’re invited to tell the truth about where we are. About what hurts. About what we want. About who we’re becoming. And the more capacity we have in our nervous system, the more we can meet those truths without collapse or denial. We can meet them with presence. With curiosity. With love.

"At midlife, the call is not to climb higher, but to descend deeper — into the ground of the soul, into the roots of being, into the core of what is most genuine and lasting in us."
— Michael Meade

A New Story

I believe we are being called to tell a new story—or perhaps to remember an old one.

A story where menopause is not a problem, but a portal.
Where aging is not decline, but deepening.
Where midlife is not a crisis, but a rite of passage.
And where those who walk through it with presence and courage emerge as the elders and stewards we so deeply need.

If you’re in this threshold season, you’re not alone. And there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re ripening. And the world needs your wisdom.

Becoming in Midlife

What if midlife isn’t a crisis, but a threshold?

Not the beginning of decline, but the beginning of becoming. A shedding of what no longer fits, and a ripening into who we were always meant to be. Not the self built to survive—but the self born to belong. To the body. To the truth. To community. To the wider web of life.

This isn’t a solo journey. We need spaces—safe, regulated, and wise—where we can do this work together. Spaces where we can slow down enough to hear our own knowing. Where our nervous systems can root into rest. Where radical honesty is welcomed, not feared. And where the fullness of this life stage can be honored as the powerful initiation it truly is.

Because when women reclaim midlife, they don’t just change themselves.

They become stewards. Guides. Elders-in-the-making. Not in the hierarchical sense, but in the soulful sense—those who carry the flame of embodied wisdom forward for others to gather around.

This is the gift. This is the work. And it’s time we told a different story about what it means to grow older.

If you would like to explore your deepening come talk to me about life transitions coaching or somatic experiencing.

If you are based in Melbourne, I will be holding a talk on Tuesday 13th May at the Tree of Life Integral Centre, 3 Denmark St Kew at 6pm. Click here to book your spot as we explore Midlife as a sacred rite of passage.

Ghosting and silent treatment; miscommunication and the avoidance of deep intimacy

Ghosting and ‘the silent treatment’ are often framed as problems of miscommunication, or, poor communication skills. We often tell ourselves that the person simply didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, or that life got in the way. But at there core, ghosting and silent treatment are not just about a lack of words. They are about a deep avoidance of intimacy. This occurs in both intimate and platonic relationships.

For many, the ability to engage in honest, clear communication is not just a matter of willpower; it is a reflection of their nervous system’s capacity to hold emotional intensity. When someone disappears—leaves a conversation dangling, ignores a message, or cuts off connection without explanation—it’s rarely about us. It’s about their own inner world and the deep-seated discomfort they have with relational transparency. It is about not having the spaciousness inside of them, to express exactly how they are feeling.

The more we understand this, the more we can make empowered choices about who we invite into our most intimate spaces—and the more clearly we can recognise when someone’s silence is not just avoidance, but a form of emotional withdrawal known as the silent treatment. Like ghosting, the silent treatment is not a neutral act. It can activate deep wounding and confusion in the person on the receiving end, while giving the illusion of control to the one withdrawing. The truth is, the person is not doing this to get control of the situation, they are doing it to try and get some regulation back into their nervous system. They are overwhelmed by the emotions they are feeling and terrified of deep relational intimacy because they did not have the experiencing growing up where they could talk about their feelings openly and honestly.

They are using silence as a tool to resource themselves.

The Nervous System and Relational Avoidance

Our ability to communicate with honesty and clarity is deeply tied to our nervous system’s regulation. If someone has never developed the capacity to stay present with the discomfort that arises in difficult conversations, their body perceives deep intimacy as a threat. Their system does not register open-hearted honesty as safe.

For people who ghost, or struggle with direct communication, disappearing may feel like the only way to avoid overwhelm. It is not a conscious, malicious act—it is a survival response. Their nervous system is simply not equipped to navigate the vulnerability required for clear, honest communication.

It can hard to be the receiver of this. Silent treatment in a relationship can be very hard to receive, and many people who are on the end of it often feel very lonely in their relationship. They feel very misattuned to and very misunderstood because they are not receiving the mirroring or reflection of their experience back from the other person.

Image - Stockcake

Deep Intimacy Requires Capacity

Clear, open communication is not just a skill—it is an embodied experience. It requires us to feel the full range of emotions that arise when we are seen, when we express our truth, and when we hold space for another person’s truth in return. It means being with the discomfort of hurting someone’s feelings, of disappointing someone, of witnessing another’s emotional response without shutting down or fleeing.

But not everyone has built the capacity to stay present in these moments. Many have never been taught how to regulate their nervous system in the face of emotional intensity. They may have grown up in environments where difficult conversations led to conflict, abandonment, or emotional withdrawal. In these cases, avoidance becomes the learned response. Or maybe they grew up with parents who struggled to acknowledge their own emotions and learned that to express them was messy and unruly, so they would never have been able to be with their kids emotional expression. So the kids learn, we are safe and will receive love if we are very good children who do what we are told and do not complain. Over time, big emotions start to feel unsafe, so we push them away.

Some of us become masters of this and use our enormous willpower to push them down. Others soothe with food, alcohol and maybe drugs just to stay regulated. At some point, typically big life transitions, our body starts to push what has been repressed and ignored back up. This often shows up as conflict in relationships, physical health issues or the person feeling very lost and discombobulated and not knowing what is going on within themselves.

Reframing Ghosting, Silent Treatment and Miscommunication

When we experience ghosting, silent treatment or confusing miscommunication, it’s easy to take it personally. We might feel rejected, unworthy, or left in a state of anxious uncertainty. But understanding ghosting as a nervous system response can shift the way we hold these experiences. It allows us to see that this behaviour is not about us, but about another person’s limitations in holding intimacy.

This does not mean we excuse the behaviour. We can hold compassion for someone’s struggles while also recognising that a healthy, reciprocal relationship requires both people to be capable of presence, honesty, and emotional responsibility.

These behaviours are often rooted in avoidant attachment. When closeness feels threatening, the nervous system chooses distance over connection. Avoidant attachment creates a belief system (often unconscious) that says “If I get too close, I will lose myself’ or, ‘If I express my truth, it won’t be safe’ or maybe ‘If you need too much, I will disappoint you'“.

Moving Toward Conscious Communication

If we want to cultivate relationships rooted in trust and depth, we need to surround ourselves with people who have the capacity to hold both their own emotions and ours. We also need to deepen our own ability to stay present in the face of discomfort.

This means:

• Strengthening our own nervous system regulation so that we can engage in honest conversations without collapse or reactivity.

• Choosing relationships where both people are committed to staying in connection, even when it’s hard.

• Recognising when someone’s avoidance is a sign that they simply do not have the capacity for the depth we seek.

• Honouring our own worth, by not chasing people who are not available for honest, clear communication.

Ultimately, ghosting and silent treatment are not about miscommunication or poor communication —they are about an inability to stay in connection when things get emotionally complex. That inability is rooted in the nervous system’s struggle to feel emotions and feelings that allow us to hold and be present to deep intimacy that we can experience with another person when we have the capacity to be with their feelings. To listen to them, to see them and be able to stay with what they are feeling.

The more we understand this, the more we can make empowered choices about who we invite into our most intimate spaces.

If you would like to expand your capacity for deep intimacy in your relationships come talk to me about relationship coaching.

Constant Striving, the hidden fawn behind 'not enough'

So many of my clients arrive with heavy hearts masked by impressive resumes. They're driven, capable, endlessly striving. And quietly, they carry a question they rarely say aloud: ‘Why do I still feel like I’m not enough?

Often what brings them to me is they desperately want something in their life and the way they currently orient in the world is not helping them get there. So whether it is a healthy conscious relationship where they can be their true selves, or wanting to overcome burnout, or to find more meaning or purpose in their life; what sits underneath all of this is a body in desperate need of rest and a new way of showing up in the world. They are so used to pushing their way through life and they have will power in spades, that fuels that constant striving toward their goals. They are so wired for productivity and to keep on going, that it does not feel safe in their nervous system to slow down.

Striving can be a survival strategy. It looks like lots of ambition but underneath it is actually an adaptation, as the nervous system has wired itself to fawn, seeking safety through performance, achievement, pleasing and perfecting. So it is just not about saying yes to others, it is about proving your worth to stay connected to them.

Where does this strategy arise from?

It often comes from having caregivers who were conditional in giving us their attuned presence, where love or safety and connection were conditional. Often we received the love we needed when we did something brilliant, or we were easy to deal with, ‘good kids’. This is not a flaw we have but actually a rather brilliant adaptive response by the body to keep us safe. The belief system that is created is “If I can just be good enough, useful enough, impressive enough—maybe then I’ll be safe, loved, or chosen”.

It’s survival through self-erasure. And it’s so deeply ingrained in many of us that it can feel like “who we are,” when it’s actually a brilliant adaptation.

How does culture reinforce the need to strive?

This isn’t just personal it can also be cultural. I also believe that productivity culture has been a major influence on this response in many adults. It’s not just personal history that shapes the fawn-strive pattern—it’s cultural, systemic, and reinforced daily in many workplaces. Productivity becomes a proxy for worth. And in that system, rest feels risky.

Productivity culture has institutionalised the fawn response. It rewards over-functioning and punishes rest. In many workplaces, people have internalised the belief: “My value is in what I produce.” “If I slow down, I’ll fall behind, or be seen as lazy, dispensable, or weak.”

So even outside of trauma histories, entire cultural systems are designed to keep nervous systems in a low-grade state of doing to survive. Especially in organisations where performance is tied to identity, job security, or belonging.

How does this striving response show up in adults?

Striving isn’t just a fawning response that is about people-pleasing in obvious ways—it can look like:

• Overachieving to be seen as valuable or loveable,

• Taking on too much to avoid being abandoned or criticised,

• Hustling for worth, because rest feels dangerous or "lazy",

• Always being the one who fixes, leads, or holds it all together,

• Adapting your identity to meet what others need or expect,

• Over functioning in relationships.

In essence, striving is a fawning nervous system response. It says: If I can just be good enough, useful enough, impressive enough—maybe then I’ll be safe, loved, or chosen.

Cant Stop, won’t stop

We joke about ‘can’t stop, won’t stop,’ but for many, it’s not a quirky motto—it’s a trauma response. It’s the body never having felt safe enough to slow down and rest. We wear it as a a badge of honour, or even an odd personality trait—but underneath it, for so many, it’s the body saying:
“If I stop, it might all fall apart.” “If I rest, who will I be?” “If I slow down, will the pain catch up with me?”

It’s not hustle culture—it’s hypervigilance dressed in productivity. It’s a nervous system that has never known true safety, only safety-through-doing. This is so deeply woven into high-functioning, heart-centred people who’ve built their worth through care-taking, fixing, over-responsibility, and striving to be irreplaceable.

The laugh we attach to “can’t stop, won’t stop” is often a nervous system trying to normalise its own exhaustion, because admitting we’re tired or scared feels too vulnerable.

Striving is often the voice of a nervous system that never felt safe to simply be.

What are the costs of constant striving?

The costs are high for many people. They include: Transactional relationships that are based on performance not presence and this leaves many people feeling lonely and disconnected from their peers at work, feeling like they are misunderstood or that they don’t fit into the organisation they work for. This sense of belonging is not there. It is also the body never getting to rest, and after many years, we see that manifest in burnout, health issues, anxiety and disconnection from the self.

What are we really longing for?

Contentment and belonging are the deep yearning we are searching for when we are striving, So often, we think we’re chasing success, or mastery, or healing—but underneath it all, we’re chasing that feeling:
That feeling can be: The deep exhale of contentment; the relief of being with people who see us, know us, and don’t need us to be any different, the safety of not having to perform, strive, or explain ourselves, the belonging that whispers: “You are enough, just as you are, and you always have been.”

It’s the nervous system’s longing to come out of hypervigilance and into co-regulation. To be met, not managed. Held, not judged. Loved, not evaluated.

And it’s not a small thing. That kind of contentment rewires us. It gives us a new blueprint for what’s possible in connection—with ourselves and with others. It helps us to feel safe enough to slow down

Where do we start with healing?

Striving may have kept us safe, but it’s not the same as being truly seen. Slowly, we begin to rebuild safety in being, not just in doing. We need to titrate our experience of slowing down because it will feel unsafe for the nervous system to just stop. So our path is to move from fawning to feel comfortable just being. This is somatic work working deeply with the autonomic nervous system because we are dealing with unconscious trauma imprints.

Imagine your body as a riverbed that has been carved deeply by years of rushing water—this water is your striving. It’s fast, focused, and relentless, always moving toward the next bend. The river believes if it can just keep flowing fast enough, it will reach some final place where it can finally rest.

But the riverbed is tired. It longs for a gentle stream. For stillness. For the moss to grow again on its rocks. It longs for a pause so life can return to its banks.

Some things you could try on your own:

The micro pause

This is a micro-practice to do anytime you feel the drive to prove, do, or fix surging up. You can try it right now if you like.

1. Settle – Let your body arrive where it is. Feel the weight of gravity. Feel the support of the earth or chair beneath you.

2. Place a hand on your heart or belly – Choose what feels most tender or accessible.

3. Say softly, either out loud or silently:
   “Right now, in this moment, I am enough.”
   (Even if part of you doesn’t believe it—just let it land and see what happens.)

4. Notice what shifts – Is there any softening, resistance, warmth, tears, numbness? All responses are welcome.

5. Stay with the sensation for 30 seconds or so. No need to fix or change it. Just witness your being—not your doing.

When your body is giving you signs to slow down, know that you are not broken. Trust the innate wisdom and intelligence of your body and what it is trying to say to you. You have adapted brilliantly but now your body is ready for something new. If you would like to explore your pathway to slowing down, to being more present, to stop being everything to everyone, to stop hustling, come talk to me about somatic experiencing or coaching.

The fear response, a double edged sword

Fear is a master of disguise. It doesn’t always show up as a racing heart or sweaty palms; sometimes, it speaks in the language of logic, whispering that we’re “not ready yet.” It convinces us to set arbitrary deadlines, create endless prerequisites, or delay action under the guise of preparation. But if we look deeper, we often find that fear is at the root of our hesitation, quietly orchestrating our self-sabotage.

At its core, fear is a survival mechanism, designed to keep us safe from danger. But in modern life, fear doesn’t just react to physical threats—it responds to uncertainty, failure, judgment, and change. Our nervous system doesn’t distinguish between the fear of a tiger and the fear of speaking our truth, starting a business, or pursuing an intimate relationship. It just registers the discomfort and sounds the alarm.

This alarm triggers one of four responses: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Each of these can subtly shape our choices in ways we don’t always recognise and we create adaptive strategies to push through and avoid our feelings. Here are some examples:

• Fight: We overcompensate, push too hard, and exhaust ourselves with perfectionism.

• Flight: We distract ourselves with busyness, convincing ourselves we’re productive while avoiding the real work.

• Freeze: We get stuck in analysis paralysis, endlessly researching or seeking validation.

• Fawn: We over-prioritize others’ needs and expectations, losing sight of our own desires.

Fear as self sabotage

One of fear’s trickiest tactics is its ability to masquerade as prudence. We tell ourselves we’ll launch the business once we get one more certification, we’ll write the book when life is less hectic, or we’ll pursue love when we feel more secure in ourselves. These milestones often feel responsible and logical, but in reality, they are fear-driven delays.

Self-sabotage isn’t always about overt destruction; sometimes, it’s simply about waiting too long. The longer we delay, the more distant our desires feel. And the more distant they feel, the easier it becomes to believe they weren’t meant for us in the first place.

Ignoring our fears

Sometimes we develop adaptive strategies to ignore our fears and push through. This becomes problematic when we learn to ignore the limits of our own bodies and keep on pushing through. Some of us, to have more courage, learn to ignore our fears and push through (I used to do this a lot). The problem with this is that we are ignoring our bodies risk assessment system, our autonomic nervous system, and that ultimately can cause us to get run down, ill or so stressed that our focuses narrows so much we find it hard to function with the complexity of life. So I am not saying learn to push through your fears, I have saying learn to understand them and listen to them, what they feel like in your body. Learn to discern between levels of fear.

Making decisions from a survival state versus coherence and feeling safe

The state we are in when we make decisions matters. When we make choices from a place of survival mode—driven by fear, anxiety, or urgency—our nervous system is dysregulated. In this state, we tend to react rather than respond. Our thinking becomes narrow, focused on short-term relief rather than long-term impact. This can lead to reactive decision-making, avoidance of necessary risks, and choices that feel safe in the moment but create more complexity down the line.

On the other hand, when we make decisions from a state of coherence—where our nervous system is regulated, and we feel safe—our thinking is more expansive. We can be truly strategic, discerning, and appropriately prudent. We’re able to see the bigger picture, weigh options without urgency clouding our judgment, and engage with complexity without feeling overwhelmed.

This is why when we cultivate nervous system regulation—through practices like breathwork, grounding, or simply slowing down—we tend to make more sustainable, wise decisions. The more we develop the ability to recognise when we’re making decisions from fear in survival mode versus from a regulated state, the better we can lead ourselves and others.

“Courage does not always roar, sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow”

Mary Ann Radmacher

So how do we break free from fear’s grip and step toward what we truly want?

1. Recognise Fear’s Voice – Become aware of when fear is masquerading as logic, caution, or endless preparation. Notice when you’re setting unnecessary milestones that delay action.

2. Slow Down and Regulate – Instead of reacting from fear, pause. Use breathwork, grounding techniques, or somatic practices to settle your nervous system so you can make choices from a place of clarity rather than reactivity.

3. Make Micro-Moves – Fear thrives in the enormity of big leaps, but it loses power when we take small, consistent actions. Instead of waiting for the perfect moment, take one small step today. This goes for those of you having to make harder choices at work in your leadership role. Small iterative changes help people to adjust and accept change rather than big sweeping changes that often put people into their survival response and usually result in them trying to avoid the changes.

4. Reframe Fear as a Companion – Fear will never fully disappear, but it doesn’t have to lead. Instead of resisting it, acknowledge it: “Hello fear I see you, and I know you’re trying to protect me. But I choose to move forward anyway.”

5. Commit to Your Desire – If something truly calls to you, trust that desire. Your nervous system might resist, but deep down, your body knows what it longs for. Trust that wisdom.

In our big life transitions we often go through periods of review and reflection. The biggest regrets aren’t usually failures—they are the things we never tried, the dreams we postponed, and the desires we denied. They are often the relationships we didn’t foster or pay attention to. Fear will always try to keep us safe, but safety isn’t the same as fulfilment. The good news? We can choose differently.

What have you been delaying that your heart is calling you toward? What if you took one small step today? Because the truth is, you’re already ready.

Healing Our Trauma: Reclaiming Our Connection with Nature

For me, there is nothing better than walking barefoot in the sand on the beach, then having a dip in the sea. I love floating in sea water and the rocking that comes with floating on top of waves as they ebb and flow. It is highly restorative. It grounds me and brings me back into my body. I can feel my nervous system coming into my zone of resilience.

In the quiet of a forest, the crash of ocean waves, or the vast openness of a starlit sky, many of us feel something stir within—a longing, a recognition, a sense of home, a feeling of belonging. But for many, that connection feels distant, as if nature is something separate from us rather than a living web in which we belong.

Much of this disconnection stems not just from modern life but from unhealed trauma—both personal and collective. Our nervous systems, shaped by past wounds, can keep us in states of hypervigilance or numbness, making it difficult to truly be present with the natural world. However, as we heal, something shifts. We begin to experience nature not just as scenery but as an extension of ourselves, rich with wisdom and reciprocity.

So how does trauma disconnect us from nature?

When we experience trauma, our nervous system adapts to keep us safe. If safety was scarce, our body may have learned to stay on high alert, scanning for danger even in peaceful settings. If overwhelming experiences left us feeling powerless, we may have learned to disconnect, numbing ourselves to sensations—including the subtle, grounding presence of nature.

Maybe you are thinking but I haven’t really experienced trauma why do I feel disconnected from my body. Well, modern life is very challenging and often it is the micro-aggressions of daily life that overwhelm us and this stacks up in our nervous system. All of these moments of overwhelm sometimes hit us when we least expect it and we experience pain, illness or relational rupture.

Many of us also carry inherited trauma, passed down through generations. Our ancestors may have lived through displacement, war, colonisation, or environmental destruction, severing their relationship with the land. That rupture doesn’t just exist in history books—it lives in our bodies, shaping how we relate to the earth. The study of epigenetics has explained this to us, so we can see how this unhealed trauma is passed down through generations in both cell expression but also in the attachment system in each of us, that is formed through the maternal bond between an baby and their caregivers.

In modern life, this disconnection manifests in subtle ways as we project our internal disconnection outwards and this shapes how we relate to ourselves, others, the world and life itself. We may find it hard to slow down enough to notice the intricate beauty of a leaf, the rhythmic cycles of the seasons, or the deep nourishment that comes from being immersed in nature. We are stuck on the hamster wheel of flight and fight. Instead of feeling like we belong to the land, we often treat it as a resource to be extracted and used, a background to our human-centered world.

How does healing our trauma restore our sense of belonging within us and also to something greater than us?

The good news is that healing our trauma—whether through somatic work, deep nervous system repair, or ancestral healing—opens the door to a profound reconnection with nature. As we learn to regulate our nervous system, we develop the capacity to be present, to notice, and to receive. The very same skills that allow us to process and release trauma—slowing down, attuning to our sensations, and cultivating safety—are the ones that allow us to feel at home in the natural world.

When we heal, we begin to:

Feel the land as alive – Instead of seeing nature as an object, we start to sense its intelligence, its rhythms, and its ability to communicate. We might begin to feel the energy of trees, the presence of the wind, or the way a particular landscape holds us.

Move beyond fear and control – Trauma often teaches us to control our environment for safety. As we heal, we can interact with nature in a more reciprocal way—learning from it rather than trying to dominate it. When we feel safe in our own bodies, we can soften into a sense of safety in the world.

Trust the body’s belonging – Nature is not something we visit; it is something we are. As we learn to listen to and trust our body and appreciate its deep wisdom, we also learn to trust the wisdom of the earth. We develop a deep understanding of the rhythms of nature and the rhythms in our body. Our understanding of one pattern helps us see this replicated through our own body and other systems we interact within.

Feel the cycles of life more deeply – Instead of fearing endings and beginnings, we start to embrace the cycles of nature as part of us. We see death, decay, rebirth, and renewal not just in the world around us but in our own emotional and spiritual journeys.

Increased self-awareness and environmental awareness - When we tend to our inner landscapes, we become more attuned to the landscapes around us.

Healing give us a new way of relating to each other and a new way of orienting ourselves in the world.

As we heal, we begin to walk through the world differently. We no longer see ourselves as separate from nature but as part of an ongoing conversation with it. We listen more deeply, honour its gifts, and recognise that the earth, like us, holds both wounds and the capacity for regeneration.

Our personal healing ripples outward. When we feel connected to the land, we are more likely to protect it, not from a place of fear or guilt but from love and reverence. Our actions shift from extraction to reciprocity, from dominance to stewardship.

Healing trauma is not just personal work—it is planetary work. As we reconnect with ourselves, we reconnect with the earth. And as we learn to belong to our own bodies, we remember that we have always belonged to the web of life.

Digital Art - Kellie Stirling

What if healing is not just about feeling better, but about remembering our place in the great unfolding story of the earth?

Perhaps the most radical thing we can do is to slow down, place our hands on the earth, and listen.

Healing happens in community and when we connect with something bigger than us. There are many ways we can look at nature and draw a comparison with our body and its innate intelligence and understanding of how to heal.

Just as nature moves through seasons of growth, rest, decay, and renewal, our nervous system cycles through activation, integration, and restoration. Honouring these natural rhythms supports long-term well-being. Here are some other comparisons that might deepen you understanding of both our body and nature’s capacity to generate healing and growth through the building of virtuous cycles and coherence.

Roots & Grounding – Trees grow strong by sending their roots deep into the earth. Similarly, we cultivate resilience by grounding ourselves in connection—whether to our breath, body, relationships, or a sense of purpose.

Storms & Emotional Intensity – A thunderstorm may feel chaotic, but it brings necessary rain and clears the air. Intense emotions may feel overwhelming, but when we allow them to move through us, they can bring clarity and transformation. Emotions like natures storms pass through us when we let them be expressed. When we allow ourselves to feel emotions fully, we become more open to experiencing the depth of nature.

Ebb & Flow of the Ocean – The tides rise and fall in a constant dance with the moon, just as our emotions and energy levels naturally fluctuate. Trying to force constant calmness is like trying to stop the ocean’s waves—it’s unnatural.

Symbiosis & Co-Regulation – Ecosystems thrive through interdependence; plants, animals, fungi, and microbes all support each other. Likewise, humans regulate best in connection—our nervous systems co-regulate through relationships, just as trees share nutrients through their roots.

Fire & Transformation – I have always been fascinated by the dual nature of fire. It can be a force for regeneration and a force of destruction. Wildfires, though destructive, create space for new growth by clearing out the old. In our nervous system, moments of challenge or breakdown can lead to profound transformation when we move through them with support.

Where do we start?

Of course you can start with the simple connections you can make with nature around you. Even if it is taking a walk on the grass in your bare feet start there. Do it with a friend or your partner, take a walk together. Trauma occurs in the absence of a compassionate witness, so healing happens in the connection with one and in the presence of community. We are wired for social connection, we are not meant to do life on on our own.

The web of life, we are not just in nature, we are nature.

For centuries, humans have told themselves a story: that we stand apart from nature. We build cities, design technologies, and shape landscapes to meet our needs. We name ourselves as observers of nature, as though it is something out there—separate from us. But this illusion of separation is just that—an illusion.

The truth is, we are not just in nature. We are nature.

We have this myth of separation, a mental model that we hold that we are separate to nature. We need sunlight, water and oxygen to survive. We take all that in, plus food (from nature) and we breath out carbon dioxide which the trees take in to make oxygen. We are a system living within a system.

Somewhere along the way, many human cultures began to see nature as something to be tamed, managed, or extracted from. The industrial revolution accelerated this thinking, and modern life often reinforces it. We go from temperature-controlled homes to air-conditioned cars to office buildings, rarely touching the earth with bare feet or feeling the true rhythm of the seasons.

But no matter how much concrete we pour, how many walls we build, or how advanced our technology becomes, we are still living, breathing organisms shaped by the same forces that shape the forests, the rivers, and the wind.

Our bodies speak the language of the earth even, when we forget our connection, our bodies remember.

We have our own rhythms and cycles just liken nature, some of these are:
- The circadian rhythms that govern our sleep are tuned to the rising and setting of the sun.
- Our lungs evolved in partnership with trees, exchanging oxygen and carbon dioxide in a continuous, reciprocal dance.
- The minerals in our bones were once part of ancient mountains.
- The water that makes up most of our bodies has cycled through clouds, rivers, and oceans for billions of years.

We are the land, the sea, the sky—just temporarily arranged in the form of human beings.

Human beings are relational beings, we are wired for connection and we need other people around us to co-regulate our nervous systems - we are not wired to do life on our own. In nature, everything is relational. Forests are not just collections of trees; they are living systems where roots exchange nutrients, fungi form underground networks of communication, and birds and insects pollinate plants, sustaining the whole.

Humans, too, are part of these systems. We have always been in relationship with the land, with animals, with each other. Indigenous cultures have long recognized this interdependence, honoring the earth not as a resource to exploit, but as kin to respect.

When we embrace this view, our decisions shift. We stop seeing ourselves as rulers of nature and instead become participants—stewards in an ancient, living network.

So how do we connect back to our natural place in nature?

Remembering our place in nature is not about abandoning modern life. It’s about reweaving our awareness into the fabric of the world.

We can start small:
- Walking barefoot on the earth, this is one of my favourites and I often do laps each night in a park in my house,
- Swimming in natural bodies of water,
- Noticing the phases of the moon,
- Eating food that actually comes from the soil, not just a package,
- Listening to birdsong in the morning.

Our body actually loves being in nature and connecting with the earth helps to anchor us back down into our bodies when the daily machinations of modern life and technology lift us out of it.

These simple acts reconnect us to something ancient within ourselves. They remind us that we are not just visitors here—we belong. Whilst these are great activities we can do on our own, they are even better when we do them with friends. We build little spots of coherence in our life with these activities and coherence has the capacity to shift a system. Coherence. both within our nervous system and in ecosystems, act as small attractors and they pull the system toward greater organisation. This is because systems are often fractal, which means that small patterns reflect and influence the larger whole.

Digital Art - Kellie Stirling

So in a system that is dysregulated, a single stable rhythm, like a leader modelling nervous system regulation in a group, can influence a group to entrain to steadiness and calm.

Our nervous system is not separate from nature—it is nature. The same principles that govern ecosystems also govern our inner world:

Just as a forest needs diversity and resilience to thrive, our nervous system needs a range of experiences and emotions to stay regulated..

Just as a river adapts to the landscape it moves through, we heal by allowing our emotions and sensations to flow rather than becoming stagnant.

Just as animals shake off stress to reset their systems, we can release stored trauma through therapeutic modalities like somatic experiencing that work with the natural rhythm of the body and we can use somatic practices that restore regulation

How do we come home to ourselves?

The climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and ecological destruction we face today stem, in part, from our belief in separation. But if separation is the problem, then reconnection is the medicine.

When we stop seeing nature as something outside of us and start feeling it within us—as us—we open the door to a different way of living. A way that honours interdependence. A way that leads us back home.

Because we were never separate. We just forgot.

Now is the time to remember. Although we face many big global problems, act as that small port of coherence, start local. Start with yourself and in your systems you interact with.

Shame and our bodies

Shame has a huge influence over how we perceive and see our bodies. Many people have been strongly influenced culturally to compare our bodies to others, particularly those others we see in the media and popular culture. These are impossible standards to live up to, particularly when we know that technology allows manipulation of photographic images. What we are looking at is not reality.
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So much of what we believe about ourselves, when it comes to body image, comes from outside of ourselves. It comes from our family and larger society. From a very young age we internalise messaging about what we are supposed to eat, how we are supposed to look, who we are supposed to be, who we should love, what we should be able to do.

Our body is centred in all of this.
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Notice there are a lot of should and supposed to be there.

When you look around the world, what is considered healthy and acceptable, changes culturally. Although this has morphed and blended with social media.

Image - Mohammed Nohasi

I was a teenager in the 80s and young adult in the 90s and this was the time where diet culture was everywhere in popular media. It was aerobics everywhere, hello Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons. I was an aerobics queen, don't get me wrong it was a lot of fun and a great thing to do with friends, but the body standards were impossible and dangerous. The leotards were ace though!
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This was also the generation in modelling of the waif. Remember Kate Moss when she started out, impossibly thin. So there is a whole generation of 40 and 50 year olds out there who whose mental models of acceptable beauty are based on, excessive exercise, starving yourself and dangerously thin models.
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We are very impressionable in our early years and these impressions around body image last for years. When we don't look like what is portrayed in popular culture as normal, we feel like we aren't enough, like we don't belong. Some of us will go to extremes to fit in. This need to belong is hardwired into our DNA. In Tribal days, we relied on the tribe to be protected and fed. So it literally can feel like a life or death situation when we feel like to don't belong. It puts us into survival mode.
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So as you can see, shame has a lot to say about how we perceive our bodies. We have these internal versions of ourselves based on these external images that relate to our self-esteem. Some of us who suffer pervasive shame over our body image, have some very harsh inner critics. Some of these inner critic parts live deep in our unconscious so they are not always that easy to detect and hear. They way to diminish them is to talk about them. Shame thrives on secrecy; when we talk about our inner critic we starve them of their supply.
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There is a particular type of shame a lot of us feel as we get older. We compare how we are now to our younger selves. We remember when we were really fit and healthy and could do a lot. We remember our young faces, without wrinkles and saggy skin. We remember our hair before it was grey. Some of us go to great lengths to avoid this. There is a particular strength that can be found in accepting ourselves just as we are right now. A happiness, a contentment, a sense of joy.
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Whats the antidote to all this shame?
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Pride, curiousity and open conversations, shut shame down. Learning to love your body and all the amazing things they have done for you is the way through. It might not be easy but it is totally doable.

Need some help? Come talk to me.

Midlife, the autumn season of our life. A time to pause, reflect and let go.

We humans are cyclical beings although our modern world doesn’t care or cater much to our cyclical nature. For those of us in female bodies, we are in a constant state of cycling through our menstrual cycles and this brings with it for many people a way of orienting and being in the world that provides a sense of feeling anchored to our cyclical nature. Our life is seasons within seasons, within seasons. Although many of us don’t always feel good about this all the time and I wonder if we talked about our inherent connection with nature and the natural rhythms of the world more, this would provide a sense of meaning to us at a deeper level.

Our midlife season is Autumn. It is a time to take stock, pause, reflect and let go of what we no longer need in our life so we can birth new parts of ourselves. I find this metaphor to be true for all midlife people I work with regardless of gender. It is a process of death and rebirth that happens where we are moving toward a soul oriented life. With this for many comes expanded consciousness where you are stepping into an unknown way of being in the world; this in itself can be overwhelming for many especially if you do not have roadmap or mentors to guide your through. The rebirth is your initiation into your wise woman power that is your authentic self. You are probably familiar wit the archetypes of maiden, mother and crone. This archetypal stage is called Maga which is the stage before Crone. Maga is Portuguese for sorceress and is the feminine of Magus, which is the sorcerer. We are the first generation of woman going through this because we are living longer than the other women in our female lineage.

For Males the archetypal equivalent is the Magician or the Sorcerer and to move to this is a rite of passage, a man needs support and community of wise elders supporting him. The Magician archetype when integrated in a man has the ability to turn disappointing situations and setbacks into opportunities to learn, grow and become a better man.

For all of us when we come to midlife their is often a great deal of inner work to be done for Autumn is the seasons of letting go. In the Celtic tradition, Autumn signifies a time of abundance because harvests are at their peak but also the season where we prepare for austerity, the winter season to come. Autumn is the season that brings the double outer and inner movement, a transition. By midlife we are ready for this big transition. It is the right time for this as we have the wisdom and perspective to really differentiate what is going on for us. Many of us may have been judged as having mental health or personal development needs in the past when they are in fact dealing with cultural overlays that are maligning our life. With our deep life experience we begin to see everything happening in our life for what it is.

Midlife is about healing any trauma or wounding from the first half of your life. When we move through this process of letting go, we are going through a process of dying metaphorically speaking. All the ideas you had about yourself, who you are, who you thought you were becoming, where you thought your life would take you may not have eventuated. So of course there will be anger, grief, resentment and maybe sadness that comes with that. You will find that what used to motivate you no longer does. You will start to pull back into yourself in a way, rather than giving your energy away.

This is because, for women in particular, you are leaving the archetypal mother phase of your life. With that comes some very real deep emotion. I think for many women there is grief regarding fertility ending. This is especially true for women who have not had children regardless of the reasons why, because all of a sudden choice is removed. There will no longer be any choice anymore, no possibility. I have also seen women who have had children experience this even though they were quite adamant that they did not want more children. The nervous system loves choice and agency, so when we are faced with the removal of choice, it does not surprise me that the body experiences either strong fight or flight responses like anger, anxiety and resentment because lack of choice backs us into a corner. But you also experience grief. Grief you see is the emotion that is the secret ingredient that helps us move on. You cannot let go without grief.

For grief to flow it needs the support of the community. it strikes me that at midlife, many of us feel like we are losing our true inner compass we got from our regular cycles and we are trying hard to orient to something new that we have no road map for because there is so much shame and denial in our culture about ageing. I think for males they experience something similar but often later maybe in their fifties is what I have noticed with my clients. All of us are looking for our ‘north star’ to anchor to something.

So why are these big emotional experiences in midlife so hard?

I think it is because we live in a culture where there is collective denial about our emotional lives. Many of us grew up in families where we did not have that emotional life fostered by our parents or caregivers. There was a complete lack of attunement to our needs. This has contributed to a huge array of hurt, trouble and physical symptoms for many people. When we are disconnected from our emotional body we become frozen on the inside, our emotions gets stuck with no means of freeing them. Our nervous system is very clever it will create all manner of management strategies to stop us from feeling that which is painful to us. This is deep work that is required. Learning to befriend our vulnerability so we can feel into our emotions, the harder ones in particular, opens the way to feeling the full spectrum of emotions - Joy, Love, Anger, Amazement, Wonder and Delight. It broadens your emotional landscape.

In midlife, we need our community around us to support us through this transition. But you know what, we need community all the time. Humans are not wired do life on their own. Our interpersonal neurobiology is wired to connect with others for co-regulation. Co-regulation helps us feel like we don’t have to carry the burdens of life all on our own.

Image - Visions in Blue

As my teacher Francis Weller says in his book The Wild Edge of Sorrow “Private pain is a legacy of the creed of rugged individualism. In this narrow story, we find ourselves caught in the shadow of the heroic archetype. We are conditioned from birth to the image of the hero, the one who needs no one, the one who rises above his or her pain, the one who is always in control and never vulnerable. We are imprisoned by this image, forced into a fiction of false independence that severs our kinship with the earth, with sensuous reality and with the myriad wonders of the world”.

The hero archetype, which so many of our stores are centred around, disconnects us from nature, from our cyclical nature, from our natural rhythms and our inner seasons.

Is it any wonder that our rites of passage feel so hard and so overwhelming. They are super complex and we need a circle of support around us to get through and for many of us that is simply not there nor do we know how to put it together.

So how do we navigate midlife better? We face it together we build a circle of support around ourselves. Each life stage has a developmental task that is asked of us, and in midlife it is radical honestly with ourselves, discern our truth. To learn to be kind to ourselves and to stay present to our life. For many of us this might be the first time we have had to do this it re requires vulnerability and acceptance of ourselves for who we are right now. Once we can accept ourselves as we are we start to connect with our unique gifts and slowly we are ready to put them out into the world.

One the principles I really like that helps us frame this experience comes from Japanese aesthetics and it is the world view that is called Wabi Sabi. Wabi Sabi is centred on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. This aesthetic appreciates that beauty is impermanent, imperfect and incomplete. This can be seen in Japanese art.

I think it is a beautiful way of framing life because it helps us to appreciate that all of life is fluid and we are always learning growing, that there is no such thing as perfection. We are all perfectly imperfect.

There is no right way to do your midlife transition. There is your way because you are unique and your life experience are unique and whatever comes up for you, whilst it might have something in common with someone else, will be uniquely your experience to learn from.

The midlife reckoning and initiation

For women, the midlife journey is a time of reckoning and it is our menopausal journey that is often the catalyst for this for many women. It is not to say that midlife is not a time of reckoning for males but I think menopause really puts the jet thrusters on it for women in a way that men don’t experience. Sorry to talk in the binary, whatever you identify as on the gender spectrum, I think if you have ovaries and will go through menopause it puts the jet thrusters on it. Notwithstanding, I have had many male clients over the years go through their midlife reckoning in their own way.

I often talk about this process as being the Autumn season of our lives. A time where we review what works for us, work out what we need to let go of in our life and work through the process of doing that so that you can birth new parts of yourself. The rebirth is your initiation into your wise woman power that is your authentic self. This stage is called Maga which is the stage before Crone. We are the first generation of women going through this because we are living longer than the other women in our female lineage.

When we move through this process of letting go, we are going through a process of figuratively dying. All the ideas you had about yourself, who you are, who you thought you were becoming, where you thought your life would take you. So of course there will be grief that comes with that. You will find that what used to motivate you no longer does. You will start to pull back into yourself in a way, rather than giving your energy away.

This is because you are leaving the mother phase of your life. So whether you have been the mother of children or the mother of a business, or the creator and mother of something else in your life, all that energy you put into mothering is not going to be there anymore. This is what happens when our estrogen starts to decline. When I noticed it within myself I noticed I was really tired and I just couldn’t over-function in all the ways I used to and I was not really interested in lots of things I really used to get passionate about.

I have found this to be a hard habit to break but a necessary one. I noticed one day about two years ago, how liberated I felt and not being full of estrogen and what it used to drive within me. The overarching need to connect and make sure everyone is ok. One day I was I sitting at my desk and I felt down to my bones this freedom at not caring so much anymore. Not is a sociopathic way, but in a light and carefree way, I didn’t care what other people thought of me at all. I didn’t care if I put in a boundary and others didn’t like it, I needed to put me own needs first for my own wellbeing.

The reckoning and initiation hits us all in different ways. For some of us it is our physical health, some of this may be perimenopause symptoms but it can also be in poor health. This was me. Cancer came a knocking in a small way about 8 years ago, I got better and went on with my workaholic ways and then five years ago it was back in a big way and I had no choice but to stop. It was bad, stage 3 colon cancer, a big surgery that really knocked me around and lots of chemotherapy that went on for months. I barely functioned during that time and I could not work. “I am listening” I finally said and learned to feel safe to do nothing and sit with my own misery and distressing emotions. I didn’t do it on my own. I created a circle of support around me with different health practitioners and friends. This is often what we need in midlife, to be midwifed through the reckoning process and we can do this by creating a circle of support for ourselves to get us through. Whether it is a psychologist , a coach, your chiropractor, a nutritionist, friends you meet to talk with this about, you can create this circle of support to midwife you through this change.

My healing that I needed to do was nervous system related and deep inner child work to stop the over functioning. It was somatic work that supported me through this so I could find in my body where that small child part of me that had to solve all the problems and find all the answers lived. My excess of will power has served me well in my lifetime, it has got me through some really tough times and kept me going in jobs, relationships and challenging circumstances far longer than I needed to be. It stopped me from getting stuck and left behind often. But I could not will my way through my midlife transition I had to learn to face my shadow head on and be on the proverbial meat hook that Inanna went through in her heroines journey and have faith that I would come off it when it was time.

I think that we often think that menopause will bring us some hot flashes and night sweats and maybe other symptoms but it is so much more than that. You are faced with your own emotional reactivity, your stress levels bouncing around and it is like an out of control roller coaster. What you do not face in this transition will hang around in your life until you do face it. It is a humbling experience.

It can also be very humbling when you have already done a lot of work on yourself. I have been in a constant learning process full of self reflection for the last 20 years. I thought surely I had explored most of my inner territory. No there is always more to be explored. What I can tell you is that for me is that all the tools and knowledge I had, the ones that I work with my clients on, I used them every day and they got me through the really tough times.

What this journey takes us to is our authentic self. It strips away all the strategies our ego created when we are young to stay safe, you don’t need them and they won’t work for you going forward. To step into your wise woman power you need to address all the aspects of yourself that you have repressed. The emotional reactivity you might be experiencing? That is your body telling you to pay attention and connect with what is coming up. It is our menopausal muse showing herself. I love the saying ‘when the muse arrives let them in or they will burn the house down’. If we ignore what is coming up, if we persist in ignoring it, life gets harder.

Who is the muse?

“Your muse is the part of your that you have kept hidden away to belong or fit in. The Muse is the original essence of who we are. They reveals fears, taboos and expectations that need to be explored as this powerful transition unfolds. All those emotions repressed, feelings we have smoothed over, they want them released. As estrogen declines, a veil is lifted from our eyes. All the things we kept silent about we can longer ignore. We must speak up”.

Midlife and Menopause ebook, Kellie Stirling

Everyone goes through this journey in their own unique way. We often parse out challenging life experiences at this stage as something else, something tough that is unrelated and just bad luck. it is all part of the journey. it may not be your health that suffers. You may experience a relationship falling apart, or having to stop everything to take care of an ailing parent, maybe it is a teenager going off the rails or suffering and you need to stop everything to focus on them. Maybe you have a big career change and you know that you need something different and you don’t know where to start. Something will initiate you into this journey. It will mean you cannot go on the way you have been and you have to actually stop and learn to do life differently.

There is something for all of us in this transformation and it offers us an extraordinary opportunity to do it consciously. When you choose to pay attention to your experience and consciously focus on it, you are not only doing your own healing work, you are healing ancestral trauma, the trauma that has been carried down through family lines.

This is the time to learn to choose what you want in life. To move away from your reactive patterns, to learn to sit back, metaphorically and physically and observe. To be able to sit in your chair, in your back body, in a neutral position, back into the chair, feet on the ground, feeling the stability in your body and not lean forward and react. To learn to observe and watch as a wise elder would and then choose which course to take. You don’t have the high energy lots of of estrogen brings anymore, so taking care of your energy is so important. You don’t have to go in and react and clean up every mess. The lesson here is learning to put your needs first which means sitting back and watching. The thing is when we sit back and watch, we often have a clearer view of what is actually going on and we make better choices every time.

Once you move through this, you are naturally drawn to pursue more meaning and purpose in your life in everything that you do. Whether it is your work, your hobbies, the relationships in your life. This is because our purpose is to be our most authentic selves, lead from the our soul, and every aspect of our life wants to align with that. Because after going through the reckoning and initiation we can be nothing else but ourselves.

How emotional neglect and abandonment in childhood fosters a fawning response in us

If in childhood we experienced our caregivers not supporting our emotional lives, abandoning supporting us when we were feeling big feelings, it created a big and deep primal response of being isolated and separated. To a child this feels like death.

We will begin to seek any feeling that will block or override feeling that isolation, that feeling of death in our body.

We need our caregivers to co-regulate us when we are young because we don't have the capacity in our nervous system to regulate ourselves AND we don't have the emotional maturity to contextualise our experience. We just know we are overwhelmed and flooded with feelings.

We are hardwired for connection and being with others. It is in community that we most often feel safe and have a greater chance of survival. We enjoy that feeling of togetherness.

When we are in this pattern of avoiding our big emotions and feelings, of overriding feeling the isolation we experienced as little ones, we disconnect from from our bodies. This brings with it anxiety, auto immune issues and chronic illness.

Many of us also develop a nervous system strategy of fawn, also known as appeasement or people pleasing. We disconnect from our emotions because we are afraid that if we express them, we will be abandoned. That old story of death if we are abandoned is wired into our nervous system.
When we are under threat, the old story is playing out in the present all the time. Like a broken record that keeps returning to the scratch.

Healing happens in the presence of a compassionate witness that can hold space for you to connect with your body somatically.

Trauma happens in the absence of a compassionate witness or community so it makes sense that healing happens with a compassionate witness and within community.

image stockcake.com - mother embracing child, AI generated.

Getting over heartbreak

When we have our heart broken the pain can be so great that we feel it physically.
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Heart break is big because there are so many emotions mixed in there; despair, grief, shame, feeling worthless. We can also feel betrayal and anger depending on the circumstances. Our wounded heart is so hurt, there is such a rawness to the pain we experience. We can also feel great stress and may be disorientated and not surprisingly, really dysregulated in our nervous system.
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It is no wonder that people shutdown from their hearts in an act of self-protection. The raw pain can be more than our poor heart can bare because the intensity of our emotions, of the sensations we feel is so great.

Our heart feels shredded to bits sometimes.
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When we shutdown and disconnect from our heart this gets in the way of connecting with new people and finding new love. It stops us from being able to feel close to another person. It blocks us from feeling our emotions and feelings in our own heart space.

When we disconnect from one emotion we disconnect from all of them. Our bodymind is amazing but it is not clever enough to be selective from what it disconnects from when it comes to emotions and sensations.

Image, Tim Marshall

We can work with your body somatically to expand your capacity to feel, we can expand the container that lives within you so there is more space for your feelings to move around it and when we do this, we expand your capacity to feel and process emotions that are overwhelming.
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From there your heart can open again to new love that is coming your way.

Are you a midlife lady and your libido has disappeared? You are not broken

Midlife transition is a time of enormous upheaval for most of us. The developmental challenge of midlife is for us to be radically honest with ourselves about where we are right now in our life. It is a healing journey and it gives you the opportunity to make some changes, to do some deep inner work, if we need it, to heal childhood wounding. Recently I saw a social media post that said we spend the second half of our life undoing our experience of the first half of life. There is is no doubt in my mind that this is true.

In childhood we will always choose being our adaptive selves over our authentic selves. We create these adaptive strategies to ensure attachment to our caregivers, so that our basic survival needs are met. This is a primal survival response. As Gabor Mate says, adaptation over authenticity every time. That means for most of us, there is a lot to unpick in midlife because whilst those adaptive strategies kept us safe and alive as children, rarely do they serve us well as adults.

If you live in a female body you have menopause happening, often at the same time. This is a lot to handle. Menopause is a mind-bending, shapeshifting transition. Over this time, the deepest system in our body, the endocrine system, goes through a massive act of rearranging itself. This affects us physically, mentally and how we orient and show up socially and culturally. There is no way that this hormonal shift does not affect how we think, feel and perceive the reality of our life. It happens over time. (Unless it is induced by surgery or cancer treatments) Perimenopause is the 5-10 years of gradual change before we arrive at Menopause. That one day when it has been 12 months since we have had a period.

I will tell you something awesome about perimenopause. It is the start of a new phase or your life. Perimenopause is a transition to a time where you focus shifts to be on you. You are at the centre of your world. So often we need to make some changes to ensure that happens.

During this time, many women notice that their libido seems to either go away or change. A changed rhythm is both normal and common. Our rhythm of our desire changes many times during our lives, but for most women the period where they notice it is the most, is either post-partum and perimenopause. Both times we have massive hormonal changes going on in the body.

Don’t worry it is not all over. Well it can be if you want. What I have found with my clients, is that post menopause, many women experience the best sex of their lives. Midlife can be a time of great fun and exploration.

“Sex isn’t just about who we do and how we do them, and it it isn’t only about the ways we get aroused and orgasmic, either. Your sexuality goes to the heart of who you are. All of your relationships, not just your actively sexual ones, grow from this root.

When I say ‘all of your relationships’ I mean that literally…including the most significant connection of all, your relationship you have with yourself.

If you want to have better sex and more satisfying intimate relationships, the place to begin is with yourself - and more specifically, with your relationship to your own sexuality”.

Sheri Winston, Women’s Anatomy of Arousal

Let’s talk about some of the reasons why you are not feeling turned on, on the inside.

Many women have never explored their sexuality. We have just ridden the hormonal waves for years. What brings you pleasure? This transition offers you an opportunity to explore what your body really likes when it comes to what turns you on, what brings you pleasure. Most of us learn about sexuality through popular culture and this is shown predominantly through the male lens, as it is centred around a male body and its arousal patterns. Often, women wonder why does it take them so long to become aroused. The reason it is that it is normal for female bodies to take longer to become aroused because most of us have responsive desire. The alternative arousal pattern being spontaneous arousal which as it suggests happens spontaneously. Most female bodies are responsive, they respond to stimulus.

What many people notice during the menopausal transition is that it takes them longer to become aroused, this is normal. Get curious and most importantly start to tune into what brings you pleasure. I often feel with most of my midlife clients that their body is truly speaking to them and telling them that what they have been doing does not work for it. Imagine you body is yelling at you and saying '“This doesn’t work for me, find out what does”. You can have a lot of fun exploring both on your own and with a partner (if you are coupled) what works for you.

Emotional upheaval is a pretty normal experience for women in perimenopause. Some of this is due to the hormonal changes impacting the autonomic nervous system (ANS) and it become a little dysregulated. Our ANS state drives our behaviour. Think back to what I said about midlife being about being truthful with yourself. Many of us learn to repress ‘negative’ emotions like anger, frustration, sadness, fear, grief for example. There is no such thing as a negative emotion, this is a cultural belief system you have internalised. Your body is asking you to reconnect with these emotions. All emotions are useful and necessary, they orient us toward pleasure and pain and help us navigate the world. Anger is an important emotion for honouring our boundaries, we need it. Grief helps us let go of what we have loved and move through life transitions. If you start feeling these emotions and you have repressed them for year, your body will feel unsafe. When it feels unsafe it will produce stress hormones. You cannot produce stress hormones and sex hormones at the same time, you body will always prioritise safety and survival over procreation. So it makes sense that when you are feeling very stressed that the last thing you feel like sex. Your body will be constricted and tense, the opposite of being open to receive. Make it your mission to develop a new relationship with all your emotions. When you repress one you repress them all. You will be amazed and how alive you can feel when you slowly start to connect with all your emotions.

Pelvic health is super impacted by this transition because estrogen is the hormone that makes our skin, tissue, ligaments, tendons and joints all juicy and supple. it supports the production of collagen which does all the repair work at night on skin and joins. So less estrogen means less hydration. This can be experienced as joint discomfort all over but particularly in the pelvis, vaginal dryness and potentially gynaecological and pelvic health issues. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Make your pelvic health a priority. So whether you become a pilates devotee, yoga aficionado or make pelvic work a priority in the gym, all are good options. You might also need some hormonal support with estrogen for your vagina or maybe use a good internal moisturiser. All are good options. Talk to your GP or Gynaecologist about them.

Perimenopause has this way of highlighting our vulnerabilities showing us where we need to focus. This becomes very obvious with many of us when it comes to our relationships. Many women lose their libido because they are simply bored in their sex life with their partner. Rather than giving up on each other, look at this as an opportunity to explore something new. All of our bodies are changing. Good communication is the foundation of intimacy in a relationship. Intimacy is being able to speak out hearts truth to another and your sex life will become a lot more fun if you are able to talk honestly and truthfully with each other.

There is a cultural expectation that women will be ‘over the hill’, washed up and grumpy. This is simply not true. What is true is that many people experience burnout. If you are exhausted, your libido will go. Again it comes back to those stress hormones being front and centre. There is an emotional burden that women carry in society. The unrealistic expectations of mothering alone. It is simply unrealistic that anyone is able to mother and do all of that work on their own. The problem here is our culture not perimenopause. Make rest your priority.

So what can we do?

Well for a start, make rest and understanding your sleep your priority. Yoga Nidra is amazing when you are feeling exhausted during the day. Rest is part of your erotic practice, make it a priority.

Start with your sensuality. Your 5 senses are the language of your nervous system. What brings you sensual pleasure and really tune into exploring that and practicing it. Explore healthy pleasure. I just might add when it comes to our taste, wine and coffee are not healthy sensual pleasures. Alcohol is a depressant that brings an overstimulated nervous system down and coffee does the opposite. If you are feeling flat and a bit freezy it produces adrenaline and lifts you up. Make sure your sensual pleasures promote health. Food also affects mood, healthy food is medicine for the body. Eat the rainbow.

Explore your desire and erotic blueprint. We each have our own blueprint of arousal. Some good resources are Emily Nagowski’s book, Come as you are or Miss Jaiya’s erotic blueprint quiz. Discover what your turn on’s and turn off’s are.

Work on your trauma. If you are experiencing old trauma coming up in perimenopause work with someone who does somatic work, to help you befriend and connect with your body. This is the work I do, you can book a call with me if you want to talk about this.

If you need to do some deep inner work on reconnecting with your emotions, work with either a somatic therapist or coach, who can work with you to help you to expand your capacity to feel your emotions in your body. This is life changing work, that supports you maturing into emotional adulthood, I do this work with all of my clients.

Read and learn about your body. There are so many good books out there now about perimenopause. I have a great resource list you can look at.

Bust up any cultural beliefs about ageing. These will be stuck in your body, this requires some pretty deep inner work.

You might need to change the way you exercise. Stress is not our friend in perimenopause, it is the biggest hormone disrupter of all. High impact exercise stimulates cortisol (stress hormone) and it can be very easy to become cortisol dominant because we don’t have the estrogen levels to balance it. What most women find is that they actually need to do less exercise but do it daily. In small bits. Low impact and resistance based exercise seems to work best for our bodies as we age. Stacy Sims has written an excellent book on this and has loads of information about training female bodies as they age and to cater for menstrual cycles.

Have fun exploring your own pleasure. When you know what works for you then you can communicate it to your partner. You might need some help from a coach where you can work 1 -1 or you might do a group course but there is a lot of information out there about women’s sexuality. Get curious.

Putting yourself first, is not a self indulgence. it is actually a way of being and an act of self preservation. It is so important for us to ensure we set ourselves up to live well and thrive in our second half of life.