Month: May 2025

Have you ever noticed how Sundays carry a certain weight?

Whether it’s first thing in the morning and the realization that your weekend is half-over kicks in, or in the evening, that creeping dread as Monday ticks ever-closer…

There’s just something about Sundays that can really unsettle our nervous system, leaving us feeling all jangly inside! 😖

I don’t know about you, but for me, the “Sunday-Scaries” show up as an antsy, pit of the stomach, crawly feeling. When I get them, I have to move around, straighten things up; make a plan for the week ahead.

Over time, I’ve learned that even just a little bit of action and planning and some structured routine like a sauna, shower and some journaling or tapping, can really help calm me down.

But I wonder how these “Scaries” show up for you?

Maybe for you it might be thinking about your challenging workplace atmosphere – a difficult boss or colleague to deal with, or mounting deadlines that really set your teeth on edge.

For others, it could be navigating busy family schedules, school drop-offs, or caregiving responsibilities.

I can certainly relate to that right now – with end of year activities for both schools and sports piling-up. It can leave us feeling like we need to clone ourselves just to get where we need to be on time. 🐙

Or, maybe it’s a stack of unopened bills – financial worries clamoring for your attention – nagging in the back of your mind as you try to be present and play legos with your grandkids…

Or perhaps it’s simply the contrast between weekend freedom and weekday structure.

Whatever your particular Sunday stressors might be right now, please know you’re not alone if you ever feel that tightness creep into your body as the weekend comes to a close. 🥺😮‍💨

That’s why I wanted to share 4 gentle somatic and calming practices to consider using that I’ve found really helpful along the way – practices that I think might help you ease some of your tension too. 🥰

Together, let’s create a little more breathing room as we move into this coming week:

 

 

🌷 Other Calming Practices for Today – Try Picking Just One:

💫 Nature Reset: Even 10 minutes outside can shift and reset your whole nervous system. Notice the sky, trees, or simply feel the air on your skin.

💫 Sensory Grounding: Wrap yourself in a soft blanket, hold a warm mug, or take a shower where you focus on the sensations of water.

💫 Visualize Your Week: Close your eyes and imagine yourself on Friday, having moved through the week with grace. What would that version of you want to tell you today?

💫 Sunday Joy: Name three simple things from this weekend that brought you a moment of peace or joy, however fleeting.

 

Final Thoughts:

Sometimes healing isn’t about fixing things or having all the answers. 

It’s about creating tiny moments – or islands – of safety for your nervous system throughout the day. ✨

That felt – sense of “I’m okay right now in this moment”? It builds resilience and trust deep within us over time. 

Little by little, we teach our bodies, minds and nervous systems that we can find pockets of peace, even in busy, stressful or uncertain times.

However you’re moving through this Sunday – whether peacefully or with some struggle – please be gentle with yourself. Remind yourself that you’re doing your very best right now. And that is enough. 🤗💛

I’d love to hear from you. Comment below and let me know which of these practices resonates most with you, or what other strategies you use to help you navigate Sundays and best prepare for the week ahead. 

With you on this journey,

Karen 🌷

 

Another Mother’s Day is upon us, and as I’ve grown in my own healing and reflected on this holiday over the years, I’ve come to appreciate just how layered and complex this day can be – especially for those of us who’ve experienced childhood, developmental, or attachment trauma. 💗

For some, this day may be a wonderful celebration. Perhaps you have a loving, healthy, fulfilling relationship with your mother or a mother figure in your life. If so, I genuinely wish you a joy-filled day of connection and appreciation. 🥰

But I also know that for many others (perhaps someone you love, if not you), this day can stir up a whirlwind of emotions – from pain and anger to sadness, grief, loneliness and longing.

For those of us who fall into this latter category, I want to stress one thing above all: there is no right or wrong way to feel on Mother’s Day.

 

The Reality Behind the Hallmark Cards

Each year, the media bombards us with idyllic images and narratives of happy families with gifts and cards filled with gushing sentiment. 

Social media amplifies this effect, with feeds overflowing with perfect mother-daughter brunches and heartfelt tributes.

But what about those of us for whom there is no card, no words to describe our relationship – or lack – thereof?

I can’t count the number of times I’ve scoured the aisles looking for the right card with the right words..only to walk away empty – handed.

💔Perhaps you never had a mother figure, or had one who was – or is – abusive in some way. 

💔Maybe you’re estranged, or perhaps your mother is no longer living. 

💔Perhaps you’re dealing with loss, bereavement or fertility challenges.

💔Or maybe you’re navigating the complex emotions of being a mother yourself while healing from your own childhood wounds.

Whatever our situation, we can find ourselves feeling isolated on the outskirts, weighed down by anger, guilt, shame or sadness – wondering if we’re the only ones not celebrating. Perhaps wondering what we did wrong..

If you can relate to this, please know that you’re not alone in these feelings. There are many of us sitting with complexity and mixed emotions this Mother’s Day.

 

6 Gentle Ways to Navigate Mother’s Day

If any of this does resonate with you, I’d like to offer some gentle approaches that have helped me navigate this challenging day with just a little more ease and self-compassion: 

 

1) Practice Intentional Self-Care:

It’s so important to take care of yourself this weekend. That could mean taking a long bath, going for a hike, reading a book, or doing anything else that brings you respite, comfort, or peace. You are allowed – encouraged, even – to make your needs a priority. As odd as it may sound, I’m super excited for a spring-cleaning date with my closet! 😉

 

2) Allow Yourself to Feel Without Judgment:

Whatever emotions surface for you, try to create a little space to be with them, to witness them and feel them without judging yourself. I know this can be challenging – we often want to distract ourselves to avoid feeling grief or anger. But even just a few minutes of acknowledging what’s present can bring tremendous relief. 

Maybe take out your favorite journal and let your words tumble out onto the page. No one else needs to see them, but getting your feelings out will likely really help.

 

3) Tap Through the Emotions:

Yes – my favorite tool! Maybe you notice yourself feeling especially snappy or irritable with those around you. This can often be a sign that there’s something deeper waiting to be felt and processed. A little tapping could be really helpful in creating safe space for these emotions:

Tapping Setup Statement:

Side of Hand Point:

“Even though Mother’s Day brings up complicated feelings for me, I deeply and completely accept myself and how I feel today.”

Tapping Sequence:

🌿 Eyebrow: These mixed emotions about Mother’s Day 

🌿 Side of Eye: It’s okay that this day is difficult for me 

🌿 Under Eye: I honor my own unique experience and truth 

🌿 Under Nose: I give myself permission to feel whatever’s coming up for me 

🌿 Chin: My feelings are valid, no matter what others may expect 

🌿 Collarbone: I can create safety for myself today 

🌿 Under Arm: I am worthy of peace and self-compassion 

🌿 Top of Head: I trust my journey and honor my own healing timeline

Great – now take a deep breath in and out, and check in with yourself. If it feels helpful, you might want to continue with another round of self-affirming phrases:

 

💫 Eyebrow: I am enough exactly as I am 

💫 Side of Eye: My worth isn’t defined by my family relationships 

💫 Under Eye: I can create new meanings and traditions for this day 

💫 Under Nose: I choose to release the pressure to feel or act a certain way 

💫 Chin: I give myself permission to do what feels nurturing to me today 

💫 Collarbone: I am creating my own path of healing 

💫 Under Arm: It’s safe to take care of myself first 

💫 Top of Head: I embrace my story and my journey with compassion

 

Remember that even a few minutes of tapping can help shift your energy and create more emotional spaciousness around any difficult feelings.

 

4) Establish and Honor Your Boundaries:

It’s absolutely okay to decline invitations or activities that could cause you emotional distress this weekend. If you’ve been invited to a family gathering but know it will be too difficult, give yourself permission to say no – even if you’ve already agreed to go!

Your emotional well-being matters. And if you do choose to participate in gatherings, try planning short breaks away from the crowd and early exit strategies in advance. It’s completely ok to go to an event, but do set an end-time if that’s helpful.

 

5) Connect with Understanding Support:

On days that highlight difficult relationships, we can feel particularly alone. It takes courage, but reaching out to a friend, therapist, or other trusted person who understands your experience can be incredibly validating. You don’t have to carry these feelings in isolation.

 

6) Create Your Own Meaningful Rituals:

If traditional Mother’s Day celebrations are painful for you, consider creating new traditions or rituals that honor your journey and values. 

This could be planting something in your garden to symbolize growth, writing in your journal, making a firepit, having a special meal with chosen-family or friends, or donating your time to a cause that speaks to you.

As my own Mother’s Day tradition has evolved, I still cherish the White Birch sapling that my husband, Alex and the kids planted with me a few years ago. 

It’s grown noticeably since then – a living reminder of putting down healthy roots with my chosen family. I see it every time I look out of my kitchen window – a sweet and happy reminder of how healing can unfold in unexpected ways.

 

A Gentle Reminder

As you navigate this Mother’s Day weekend, please remember that your feelings and experiences are real and valid.

There’s no obligation to “perform” happiness or gratitude if that’s not your authentic experience. 

There’s no requirement to buy cards with sentiments that don’t reflect your reality. 

(Although – there may be something very healing to be said for buying a sappy card and writing what you’d really like to say instead!!) 😉

And there’s absolutely no shame in creating a day that honors your truth, whatever that may be. 

I’ll be thinking of you this weekend and want to remind you that you’re not alone in these complex feelings. 

I see you and I honor your experience.

I’d love to hear from you in the comments below. Does Mother’s Day bring up complicated emotions for you? What strategies have helped you navigate this day in the past? And what’s one thing you’re choosing to do for YOU this Mother’s Day?

With you on this journey, 

Karen 🌷

Have you ever noticed how often your body physically expresses what your mind and heart are still struggling to process?

The last couple of weeks were pretty intense for me illness-wise, but  the cause wasn’t just physical, it was emotional too…

Right before Easter, I had an intense EMDR therapy session that opened up some deeply painful childhood memories. By the weekend, I was battling a severe head cold – sinus pressure, shortness of breath, a cough, laryngitis, and a non-existent voice that lingered for two weeks. 🤒

This wasn’t just any old cold. It was grief finding a physical pathway out of my body. Grief that had been stored in my body since way back then.

 

When Our Bodies Carry What Words Cannot Express

During my EMDR session, a particularly painful and visceral memory emerged that I hadn’t fully processed before. Terrified, I remembered how I was used as a “human shield” – by family members who physically placing me closest to the door at nighttime; making sure I took the brunt of any sexual abuse. 

It was a dog-eat-dog situation, where young siblings and grown-ups were pitted against each other – all desperate to survive. This kind of competition and division is not uncommon in abusive homes, but it is damaging whenever it occurs.

During the session, as the memory unfurled, the entire left side of my body – including my face – went completely numb. Frozen.

Inside, I could feel my littlest self – maybe 3 years old – crawling up inside my brain, hiding in a fetal-ball at the back of my skull. Not daring to move. Praying they wouldn’t find her. “Stay still, stay quiet”. It was her only place left to hide. Her only place of respite and hope, however fleeting. 

Back then, I learned to shut down all awareness of bodily sensations; specifically to “not feel”. So that “they” could do whatever they wanted to my body – so long as my littlest self could remain hidden and crucially – unharmed and in-tact – in that one safe corner of my mind.

 

When Therapy Ends But Processing Doesn’t

Unfortunately, as sometimes happens, we reached the end of the session just as these powerful emotions were surfacing. When I expressed distress: “But what do I do with all the sad?” – my therapist acknowledged my “sad”, but explained the need to close the session.

With care, and as she’d done many times before, she said: “I’m going to close you back down now. Just go to your calm place…”

And so, I shut down. I did what I was told – just as I had as a child.

But grief that’s been waiting decades to be heard doesn’t simply disappear when therapy-time is up.

The long-squashed feelings all came rushing back with that little girl’s simple plea: 

“But what do I do with all the sad?”

The stark realization that “little me” had had nowhere to turn, no safe person to protect her, no one to listen to or comfort her. 

She was desperately alone. She had found an amazing and successful hiding place. Retreating inside. Squelching emotional pain. Numbing physical pain. Keeping it all inside. Until now…

In that EMDR session, she’d glimpsed a way out. The pain could no longer be squashed or silenced – and was finally finding a way out…

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t ok. All the grief. All the pain. All the helplessness. All the aloneness – it had ALL waited so patiently, so long to come tumbling out. 

And yet – here was my trusted therapist trying (unbeknownst to her) to put a cork back in the bottle of my ready-to-overflow emotions. 

Unsurprisingly, by the weekend, my body was speaking the truth my voice couldn’t quite yet: sinus congestion, elevated resting-heart-rate, difficulty breathing and a persistent cough. My oxygen levels dropped to 94%. Brain fog and exhaustion set in.

The grief that had tried to emerge at the end of the session found another way out. Through my body. 

 

The Doctor’s Visit: When Present Mirrors Past

After a particularly rough night of coughing and struggling to breathe, I made a doctor’s appointment. 

Undeterred by my lack of voice, I typed up a list of my symptoms to show the doctor. As she read through my list, she made no eye contact with me. I sat in my silent-bubble, feeling increasingly isolated and invisible. 

When she swabbed my throat to test for strep (it wasn’t), the gagging sensation triggered something deeper. After she left the room, I cried. A wave of grief washed over me – not just for this moment, but for all the moments it echoed:

💔 All the times I haven’t been believed.

💔 All the times I’ve been reduced to a list of symptoms. 

💔 All the times medical professionals haven’t truly “seen” me, made eye contact or looked beyond the surface.

💔 All the times I silently pleaded and prayed (back then) for a doctor to please ask the “right” question so I would finally being able to share how badly they were hurting me..

I felt so small and alone in that examination room last week. The familiar shame of feeling like a burden crept in – that I was wasting their precious time. That familiar voice whispered: “It’s not that bad – stop being a cry baby.”

How many times have I been silenced? How many times have I silenced myself? Minimized my own pain?

The doctor’s instructions were clear: “It could be another 1-3 weeks. Don’t talk – not even a whisper. That can strain your vocal cords and make it worse.”

So here I am – that little one still hiding in my brain, trying to be heard, trying to heal, trying to grieve, little by little.

My therapist’s words “I’m going to close you down” seem to have taken on symbolic meaning and manifested physically: “get back in your box” – your voice box, it seems. Silent again… 

But the thing is – I don’t want to be silent anymore. Things are different now. I am different now.

Yes, I’m still working through this grief, this memory. But the little one is not all alone now. I am with her. And she is with me. 

 

The Body’s Wisdom and Wounds

Is this just a coincidence? That after a memory surfaces of being used as a shield, of being repeatedly shamed and silenced, of hiding in the only safe place I could find (inside my own mind), my body manifests an illness that literally takes my voice away?

I don’t think so.

Our bodies hold our stories. They do “keep the score”. They remember what happened, even when our conscious minds have tried to forget. And sometimes, when we begin to touch those deep places in therapy, our physical selves respond – often in ways that carry profound symbolic meaning.

Losing my voice isn’t just losing my voice. It’s a physical manifestation of that little girl who had no voice, who couldn’t speak her truth, who hid in the only place that felt safe – deep inside herself. 

 

Perhaps You Can Relate?

Maybe you’ve experienced something similar after therapy or when processing difficult memories:

💫 Physical symptoms that appear after emotional work.

💫 Feeling like your grief is “stuck” in your body.

💫 The sensation of emotions being “trapped” with nowhere to go. 

💫 Unexplained illness that follows difficult emotional revelations.

💫 Being triggered in medical settings where you feel unseen, unheard or not believed.

If so, please know you’re not alone. This is incredibly common for trauma survivors – our bodies often express what our conscious minds aren’t yet ready or able to fully process. 🌷

 

 

A Gentle, Loving Reminder

It’s important for us to begin to sit with and validate our grief as and when it surfaces on this journey. Recognizing that certain truths can be more likely to bring our grief to the surface:

• Children deserve to be protected, not abandoned, used as shields or placed in harm’s way.
• No child should ever experience sexual abuse (or any other kind of abuse).
• Those who were meant to protect us failed us profoundly.
• Our voices and experiences deserve to be heard and validated.
• Medical systems, check-ups or procedures can be re-traumatizing.

The grief, anger, and bewilderment around these truths can be enormous. 

 

Making Sense of the Senseless

How do we make sense of adults who put children in harm’s way to save themselves? Of systems that still don’t fully see us? Or choose to turn a blind eye?

We can’t. And sometimes the most healing thing we can do is to acknowledge that it was simply wrong. Inexcusable. Not our fault.

 

Honoring Your Body’s Wisdom

Your body’s expression of grief – whether through tears, illness, loss of voice, or other symptoms – is a valid part of your healing journey. Your emotions deserve space, even when therapy-time runs out, even when medical professionals don’t fully see you.

And so my invitation to you today my friend, is to gently ask yourself what it is you need today to feel seen and heard in your own, unique healing journey?

I see you. I honor your journey. And I’m walking this path right alongside you. 💛

P.S. Have you experienced physical symptoms after emotional processing work? Or found yourself triggered in medical settings? I’d love to hear how you’ve navigated these aspects of healing. Leave a comment below – I read every one – and your story truly matters to me. 🥰