05/13/2026
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She sat on zoom with me and I asked her what she wanted.
Not what she needed to finish. Not what was on her list. What she, in her body, in her bones, actually wanted for her life.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked at her hands for a long time.
"I don't know," she said. "I don't think I've ever really known."
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I've sat with a lot of women doing this work, and when I ask that question, really ask it, not as a warm up or a formality but as a real and genuine inquiry, women go quiet. Some of them go still in a way that tells me the question itself landed somewhere they didnβt expect it to. Some of them cry before they can find a single word.
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Maybe it started early. A childhood where your needs were too much, where your feelings were inconvenient, where you learned pretty fast that keeping everyone else okay was safer than asking for what you needed. Maybe it came later, in relationships that slowly taught you that your desires were the problem. That wanting things, being honest about what you needed, led to punishment or withdrawal or that particular kind of silence that makes you feel like you're losing your mind.
So you learned to want the right things. The sensible things. The things that wouldn't make anyone uncomfortable.
And you got very good at it.
And somewhere in the process of getting very good at it, you lost the thread back to yourself.
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Not manifestation as a concept. Not visualization exercises or journaling prompts or strategies for thinking more positively. We go into the body, because that's where everything actually lives.
Here's what I know from doing this work: the things you learned to suppress don't disappear.
Your desires don't vanish just because life taught you it wasn't safe to have them. They go somewhere. They compress. They become a kind of weight you carry without even realizing you're carrying it. A heaviness that lives in the chest, or the gut, or the back of the throat.
In the sessions, we start to move through that.
Through breath. Through movement. Through some channeling work that, honestly, still surprises me in how deep it can go. We start to locate where things have been stored in the body. Where the grief sits. Where the anger got stuffed down. Where the things that were too much, too dark, too anything, got pushed so far in they stopped having a name.
And as those things start to move and release, something in the room shifts.
I watch it happen.
The woman across from me changes. Not in a loud or dramatic way. It's quieter than that. Her shoulders settle. Her breath goes deeper. The tension around her jaw softens.
And then I ask againβ¦.
What do you truly want?
And the answers that come through aren't what she expected.
Not the job she thought she was supposed to have. Not the relationship that checks the boxes. Not the life that photographs well.
She wants to live near water. She wants to work outside. She wants a small, close family that actually feels safe to be in. She wants to stop waking up with that low hum of dread. She wants to stop shrinking herself to fit into spaces that were never built for her.
Simple things. True things. Completely hers.
And her eyes.
Her eyes start to shine.
It's the only way I know how to describe it. Something comes alive that I can only call someone finally coming home to themselves. And it is not a small thing. It is, I think, one of the most important things a person can experience.
Because these desires were never gone. They were buried. Under other people's fear. Under years of learning how to survive. Under the version of herself she built to stay safe in spaces that were never actually safe.
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That's the part that gets me every single time. Women come into these sessions thinking they're a broken mess. That they're just bad at this, at wanting, at knowing, at having clarity. They've spent so long being the one who manages and holds and keeps everything together that they've lost access to the part of themselves that knows what she needs.
But she's still in there. The little girl, the teenager the twenty somethingβ¦
She's always been in there.
If you've read this far and something in you went quiet, if something in you recognized this, I think you already know.
You don't need more information or a better plan. You need to feel what's been living in your body, maybe for a very long time, and find out what's underneath it. Find out what you actually want when nobody else's voice is in the room.
The May Reclamation Sessions are open. We do this work together, in a session that moves through the body, not around it. You walk away with a clarity that doesn't come from thinking harder. It comes from finally letting yourself be heard.
Link is in the comments. If this is calling to you, come find me there
