Healing Isn’t Linear: How the Body Releases What the Mind Can’t Rush

Your Body Isn’t Betraying You. It’s Releasing What It Couldn’t Before

There’s a moment in healing that almost no one prepares you for.

You finally slow down.

You start therapy.

You meditate.

You breathe.

You commit to “doing the work.”

And instead of feeling better, your body reacts.

Anxiety spikes.

Emotions feel closer to the surface.

Old grief shows up unexpectedly.

Your body feels louder, more sensitive, more reactive.

The thought comes quickly: Something is wrong with me.

But what if nothing is wrong at all?

What if your body isn’t betraying you. What if it’s finally releasing what it couldn’t before?

The Body’s Timing vs. the Mind’s Urgency

The mind loves timelines. It wants clarity and relief. Preferably now.

The nervous system doesn’t work that way.

Your body doesn’t release trauma, stress, or emotion based on insight or effort. It releases based on safety.

You can understand your patterns.

You can name your trauma.

You can have powerful realizations.

And still, your body may not be ready to let go yet.

That’s not failure.

That’s biology.

Healing isn’t just about understanding what happened. It’s about your body sensing that it no longer has to stay on guard. And that happens on the body’s timeline, not the mind’s.

Why Symptoms Often Appear When You Slow Down

When you’re in survival mode, your body prioritizes getting you through the day.

Stress responses that can’t be completed get stored.

Emotions that don’t feel safe get suppressed.

Needs that feel risky to express get buried.

This isn’t weakness, it’s intelligence.

What surprises many people is that these stored responses often surface when life finally slows down.

When routines change.

When distractions fade.

When you rest.

When you feel safer.

It can feel like healing made things worse.

In reality, it’s more like opening a packed closet you’ve been holding shut for years. Things spill out not because you’re doing something wrong, but because you finally stopped holding everything in.

When the Body Speaks in Unexpected (and Awkward) Ways

Recently, I was reading Metaphysical Anatomy by Evette Rose and landed on a section about gas.

Yes.

Gas.

As in farting.

As in something that has basically become my personal trademark.

The book suggests that excess gas can be connected to difficulty saying “no,” fear of disappointing others, and anxiety about the consequences of not following expectations or authority.

I laughed… then stopped.

Because it landed.

What struck me wasn’t the symptom itself, but the invitation to reflect:

Where do I override myself?

Where do I silence my needs?

Where do I keep the peace at my own expense?

It made me wonder if my body wasn’t being dramatic or inconvenient, but expressive!

What if my body was saying what my mouth learned not to?

When Life Changes, Perspective Moves In

This insight came during a tender season.

The holidays looked different this year. My stepdad's health changed our usual traditions. Familiar rhythms shifted. At the same time, my daughter wasn’t around in the same way she used to be, not because anything was wrong, but because life is moving and seasons change.

And in the quiet spaces where distraction used to live, perspective rushed in.

What matters.

What hurts.

What I’ve been holding.

What I can no longer ignore.

Often, this is when the body speaks. Not to overwhelm us, but to be heard.

“You’re Overdramatic” — And That’s the Point

Around this same time, my mom told me I’m very overdramatic and tend to make a big deal out of everything.

What surprised me was that I didn’t feel offended.

I didn’t get defensive.

I didn’t feel the need to explain myself away.

Instead, I felt clear.

I told her she was right and that this is exactly who I am.

I feel things deeply.

Experiences land in my body, not just my mind.

Joy is big.

Grief is big.

Change is big.

Love is big.

And for the first time, I didn’t try to minimize that.

I reflected back to her that this depth, this sensitivity is the reason I do the work I do. It’s why I notice what goes unspoken. Why I can sit with people in their hardest moments. Why I understand the language of the nervous system.

My sensitivity isn’t a flaw.

It’s attunement.

And when I honor it instead of fighting it, my body doesn’t have to work so hard to get my attention.

PMDD, Anxiety, Panic, Grief... Protective Responses, Not Failures

I’m writing this during my PMDD phase. Six days before my period.

If you know PMDD, you know it intensifies everything. Sensations. Emotions. Thoughts. Old wounds.

But here’s what I’m learning:

PMDD isn’t my body betraying me.

It’s my body amplifying what already needs attention.

From a nervous system perspective, anxiety, panic, grief, and PMDD aren’t personal failures. They’re protective responses. Signals developed when safety, rest, or expression weren’t available.

That doesn’t mean we accept suffering as our fate.

It means we stop fighting our bodies while trying to heal them.

Why “Pushing Through” Often Backfires

Many of us were taught that healing requires effort and strength.

So we push.

We force positivity.

We overanalyze.

We try to fix every sensation.

But the nervous system doesn’t respond to pressure.

It responds to permission.

When we rush healing, the body stays on guard.

When we judge our reactions, the body feels unsafe.

Healing happens when the body senses it no longer has to protect you in the same way.

What Actually Helps

If you’re in this phase, a few things matter more than doing more work:

• Orient to the present moment

• Name sensations instead of stories

• Slow the urge to fix

• Choose short, consistent practices

• Seek support that doesn’t rush you

You don’t need to force release.

Your body already knows how, when it feels safe enough.

A Different Question to Ask

Instead of asking:

What’s wrong with me?

Try asking:

What is my body ready to let go of now that it finally feels safe?

If things feel louder or heavier than before, it doesn’t mean you’re failing.

It often means you’re no longer in survival mode.

You’re not broken.

You’re not behind.

You’re releasing what your body could no longer carry.

That isn’t betrayal.

That’s healing.

Gentle Closing

This is why my work focuses less on fixing symptoms and more on creating safety in the body. When the nervous system feels supported, it knows exactly what to release, and when.

Healing doesn’t need to be forced.

It needs to be felt.

I wish you all a Happy and Healing New Year!

Love, Michele