11/20/2025
𝙒𝒉𝙚𝒏 𝒕𝙝𝒆 𝑩𝙤𝒅𝙮 𝙁𝒊𝙣𝒂𝙡𝒍𝙮 𝙎𝒂𝙮𝒔 𝑾𝙝𝒂𝙩 𝙒𝒆 𝑵𝙚𝒗𝙚𝒓 𝑪𝙤𝒖𝙡𝒅
There is something most people don’t realize about the body until they are in a room where someone is working directly with their spine, their fascia, or their nervous system. Emotions don’t always rise when you are thinking about them. They often rise when the body finally gets a moment to let down its guard. I have watched this happen over and over again: a person comes in for back tension, or stress, or fatigue, and fifteen minutes into the session something shifts. Their breath changes, their eyes start blinking faster, a tremor moves through the legs, or tears appear without any specific memory attached. They aren’t “trying” to feel anything. The body is simply responding to finally being supported.
People are often surprised by their own reactions. They apologize, or they joke, or they say they don’t know why they’re crying. But the truth is that the body has an incredibly reliable way of holding on to experiences that were too overwhelming, too fast, or too unsupported when they first happened. We adapt in the moment because we have to. We push through, take care of others, get through the crisis, and keep going. Meanwhile, the body stores the aftershocks. It stores the tension, the breath-holding, the bracing, the unfinished responses. And it keeps those patterns until it senses enough safety to release them.
Somatic work makes those patterns visible. When someone is touched with presence, when their nervous system is guided into a more regulated state, the body starts reorganizing itself. That process often brings old emotions to the surface, not because the person is reliving the past, but because the body is completing something it never got to finish. A tremble is the body unwinding. A tear is the body softening. A deep exhale is the body letting go of something it’s been carrying for years. None of these reactions are random, dramatic, or exaggerated. This is physiology doing what it was designed to do.
When emotions show up in a session, I don’t view it as “emotional release” in the dramatic sense. I see it as the body finally having enough support to shift gears. It’s the nervous system choosing repair instead of survival mode. It’s the physical intelligence of the body taking the opportunity to reset the parts that have been overworked and overwhelmed for too long. People often think healing comes from effort or analysis, but the body does most of its repair quietly, underneath the story, in the simple act of allowing tension to unwind.
What I want people to understand is that there is nothing strange or mystical about this process. The body keeps track of what was never expressed, what was interrupted, and what felt unsafe. And when the right conditions are present, it starts to let those things move. Not as a performance, but as a natural part of the way we are built.
Every cry, every shake, every sudden wave of emotion is the body’s way of saying, “I’m recalibrating. I’m catching up. I’m finally getting a chance to release what I’ve been holding.” This is not weakness. It is not regression. It is the body doing exactly what it has always known how to do.
And when people understand that, they stop being afraid of their reactions. They start trusting their body more. They start realizing that healing is not about forcing anything. It is about creating the conditions where the body can do what it has been waiting to do for years.
