learning to live in my body
how I moved from chronic dissociation into embodiment
I was 28 years old when I came out
and a large part of that journey was returning to my body (read more about that here.) My C-PTSD primed me to be a master of disassociation after living in an almost constantly dysregulated state. My conservative, religious upbringing further removed me from my authority. Then, add in an eating disorder that began as a pre-teen, and there is no question how I ended up so far removed from my ability to trust the cues of the body I live in. My commitment to embodiment and mindfulness practices allowed me to rediscover and live as my authentic self and to move out of that near-constant fight-or-flight state. Here are some things that helped me move from being chronically disassociated to living a more embodied life.
I started radically listening to my body.
It felt silly at first. I would drop everything the moment I felt hungry to eat. I stopped scheduling workout classes ahead of time and instead, let myself drop in at the last minute only when I felt up to it. I once pulled over on the side of the road to dance in a stranger’s front yard after I was triggered while driving. Everything my body asked for, I listened. The more I attuned, the more my body talked. This looked like taking a bath first thing in the morning when my chronic pain was unbearable instead of forcing myself to push through. It meant staying in bed for most of the day when the grief I had avoided for years finally washed over me. I allowed myself to leave crowded events as soon as the overstimulation hit. I had to learn how to work with the limitations my unique DNA contains and stop forcing my body to do anything it was not enthusiastically giving consent for.
I had to slow down the pace of my life drastically.
I was born into a lower, working-class family, but my parents built a small business that grew throughout my childhood and later elevated them to a middle-class tax bracket. Hustle culture was infused into my veins. In response to neglect at home, I became an overachieving student and an overly ambitious adult. Before I knew I was neurodivergent, I knew I was not able to keep a “normal” job, so I learned how to survive in the world of independent contracting. But that meant giving up paid time off and constantly having to grind to get by. My choice to sell everything and live in an RV allowed me to stop the constant doing. The pace of life on the road was a nervous system reset that I desperately needed. I had never taken the time to simply be before that. Now that I have moved back to the city, I have felt the familiar pull to keep my calendar full constantly. I have worked hard to be intentional about carving out time for simply existing without an agenda.
I work with my senses.
As a Taurus sun, I have always been a sensual human. I have naturally searched for the natural pleasures around me from a young age. Now, it’s a part of my regular practice to stay rooted in the right now. I can often be found walking around my neighborhood, stopping to smell flowers or touch a spiky plant. I also have sensory activities throughout my home. I keep incense stocked to help pull me out of a morning brain fog. I use a fuzzy, weighted blanket for mid-day overstimulation resets. When available, fresh, local flowers are in vases around my home to bring me back to the beauty when my head wanders too far from the moment.
Meditation works like really, really.
I have had a regular meditation practice for many years now but committed more deeply after my divorce in late 2023. I now start every day with 15-30 minutes of meditation. I give myself the option to skip Saturdays to work with my demand avoidance, but I often find myself choosing to meditate anyway because it helps me stay much more grounded throughout the day. I meditate before I look at my phone or do anything else to start each day fully with myself. For guided meditations, I recommend the Chani app.
I treat chores as moving meditations.
The times I am cooking, cleaning, or brushing my teeth are perfect times to practice mindfulness. How fully can I drop into that moment? Can I focus on each tooth or every fold of laundry? What if I prepare my food with gratitude and awareness of the gift it is to have food to eat? These small daily shifts help give my thinking brain a break while further strengthening that mind-body connection.
Working with the earth has been an essential part of my healing journey.
I was recently talking to my mother about my childhood and realized the first time I started a garden was after a significant traumatic event that happened in my teens. My family had not gardened before, but my brilliant body knew it needed to be held by the soil, and luckily, my parents agreed. While I was living in the a-frame, where I did a lot of my initial trauma therapy, I would spend hours every day walking around barefoot, working with the earth. You can find numerous studies about how working with soil is healing, but I never needed the external evidence. My community garden and backyard plants still soothe my sensitive nervous system today. When I feel activated, one of my favorite regulation tools is simply standing outside barefoot.
Yoga and breathwork helped cultivate my mind-body connection.
I found yoga at my local YMCA when I was 16 years old and fell in love with the athleticism before I fell in love with the actual practice. However, after finding some incredible Yin instructors in college, I started diving more heavily into the benefits of mindfulness. I gravitated towards breathwork first, as body awareness practices initially felt too triggering due to (unknown at the time) gender dysphoria. My breath has become an anchor that helps me stay present in even the most triggering moments. Consistency was key for me when utilizing breathwork. It took several years of practice before I was able to catch myself becoming activated and instinctively turning to breathwork to calm my nervous system. Although body awareness practices were challenging at first as a trans person, they were also imperative in my gender identity self-discovery journey and now help me to live in and appreciate the body I am in.
I have journaled daily for years now
and it’s been an enormous help in identifying sensations and putting words to feeling. When I first began to experience my emotions, instead of intellectualizing them, I kept a journal for documenting any feelings as they came up. I would draw the feelings, describe what it felt like in my body, and track when I experienced it again. This helped bridge my listening to become understanding. I first needed to record the language so I could communicate more clearly.
I have found so much freedom in my body through dance.
Dance has been a practice of trust for me. Not only does dance help me move any stuck feelings out of my body, but it has also been a beautiful exercise in listening to my body's intuitive creative calls. Recently, I have been starting every day with a 10-15-minute free dance session. I often wake up from C-PTSD nightmares and have found that through dance, my body knows best how to move through that heaviness.
I have learned how to listen to the more subtle cues through divination
As I started becoming a better listener, divination practices stepped in to build upon that trust. Tarot was the first tool I used to work with my intuition, but now I work with several others, such as a pendulum and stones. These practices have increased my confidence in hearing even the most subtle messages. The more I live by the knowledge of my body over the racing thoughts of my mind, the more I have been able to let go of my need for constant control and instead trust my instincts to guide me moment by moment.
I have alternative activities ready when dissociation hits anyway.
Sometimes, even with these skills and practices, I still find myself frozen. I am fighting for my life against the freeze. I move out of my window of tolerance and find myself smack back down in the middle of a dissociation haven. I have found more constructive activities for me to tap out when needed. I’ll get lost in a book or occasionally Temptation Island. I have been using collage as a way to move feelings out and move through the fog. Especially these days, we don’t always have to be present, but we all deserve to be as often as we want to be.
i love the last moment nod to Temptation Island.