Caitlin Olson - ITP.

Yesterday, one of my lovely clients and I spent some time exploring her inner child.

Near the end of the session, we were talking about her plans for the evening when she said, “I think we’re going to go pick out some new bubble bath, and then I think we’re going to get taco supplies because I think we really want tacos tonight.”

I laughed and said, “We?”

She looked at me for a second and said, “What?”

I said, “You said we.”

She paused, started laughing, and said, “Oh my gosh, yeah, I did.”

I asked her if she was talking about herself and her younger self, and at that point we were both laughing.

Then we both got a little quiet.

I’ve been thinking about that moment ever since.

In all the conversations I’ve had about inner child work, I’ve never heard someone refer to themselves and their younger self as a team so naturally. There was no intention behind it. She wasn’t trying to make a point or have some big realization. It just came out.

And for some reason, that made it even more meaningful.

It was one of those moments that stopped both of us in our tracks.

She was talking about herself like she was someone worth considering.

Someone worth bringing along.

Someone worth buying the tacos for.

Someone worth taking care of.

It was truly beautiful 🥹

So many of us move through life treating ourselves like a responsibility, a project, or something we just need to get through. We push ourselves, criticize ourselves, and expect ourselves to keep going no matter how tired, hurt, or overwhelmed we are.

Meanwhile, this amazing woman walked out of a session unconsciously planning an evening for herself the same way she would for someone she loved.

And I sat there realizing she had just taught me something, too.

My intuition has become pretty wild over the years. 🦋

What’s interesting is that I know what hypervigilance feels like. There was a time when I was constantly scanning people, reading micro expressions, monitoring energy shifts, and trying to predict what might happen next. That wasn’t intuition. That was a nervous system trying to stay safe.

This feels completely different.

The more I’ve continued healing, the more I’ve learned to trust my body, my sensations, and my own inner knowing. Sometimes I know something before I can explain how I know it. Sometimes I can feel when something is aligned, when something isn’t, or when a truth is about to reveal itself.

And lately, when something really lands for me, my ears ring. It’s a low vibration that seems to arrive alongside a feeling of complete clarity. My body feels heavy, grounded, almost magnetized to the earth for a moment. Everything settles. It’s not that the ringing overtakes my thoughts. It’s more like the ringing arrives when the message has already landed. Like a confirmation from my inner knowing, the universe, or both. ✨

Maybe it’s intuition. Maybe it’s a sixth sense. Maybe it’s the universe communicating through a body that’s finally quiet enough to listen. 💗

I don’t really need to know which one it is.

I just know I’ve learned to trust it. 💫

Not everything that feels heavy has a quick solution.

Sometimes there isn’t a lesson to learn, a silver lining to find, or a mindset shift that suddenly makes everything easier.

Sometimes you’re simply moving through something difficult.

If that’s where you find yourself today, see if you can find one small thing that feels supportive.

Notice your feet on the ground.

Hold something sturdy.

Wrap your arms around yourself.

Take a moment to remember that you don’t have to solve everything today.

And a perspective was just shared with me recently that I really liked:

When you’re faced with a difficult choice, it creates the possibility of a new destination.

I found that comforting. ❤️

When did somatic healing become synonymous with screaming, shaking, spasming, dancing, sweating, and having the most intense emotional release possible?

Before anyone comes for me, yes, these practices can absolutely be beneficial.

But I just watched another video selling a somatic healing program and I think I’ve finally hit my limit.

And honestly, the price isn’t even my issue. Accessibility matters, and I fully support making education more available.

What concerns me is how often healing is being packaged and sold through aesthetics instead of understanding.

A beautiful woman. A dramatic release. A few somatic buzzwords. Some AI generated slides. A viral reel.

And suddenly we’re being sold the idea that healing is as simple as following along.

I wish it were.

I wish years of trauma, chronic stress, grief, emotional neglect, nervous system adaptations, chronic pain, burnout, and survival patterns could be resolved through a few minutes of movement on a screen.

But most of the people I work with need something very different.

They need safety, support, context, and an understanding of why their body responds the way it does.

Because the nervous system doesn’t always need more activation.

Sometimes the body is already doing too much.

Sometimes healing looks like movement.

Sometimes it looks like rest.

Sometimes it looks like finally taking a full breath and starting to really notice the tension is jaw, shoulders, and belly.

When you work with me, things tend to move a little differently. Slowly. Safely. With choice.

There is no pressure to perform healing, have a breakthrough, or release something before your body is ready.

We build awareness, capacity, and trust. Then we listen to what your body is actually asking for.

Because sometimes your body wants movement.

And sometimes your body wants a blanket, a deep breath, and permission to stop trying so hard.

Maybe my real issue isn’t the movement itself.

Maybe it’s that social media keeps presenting the most extreme versions of healing as if that’s what healing is supposed to look like.

Try this and tell me what happens.

The neck, shoulders, upper back, and low back are some of the most common places we accumulate tension throughout the day.

Long hours sitting, driving, working at a desk, exercising, scrolling our phones, poor sleep, stress, and repetitive movement patterns can all contribute.

Using the corner edge of a sturdy counter for support, gradually shift some of your weight into your arms. If it feels accessible, experiment with taking some weight out of your feet and allowing the spine to lengthen. Add a gentle twist or simply stay still and breathe.

Many people notice reduced tension through the neck and shoulders, improved mobility through the thoracic spine, easier breathing, and a general feeling of less stiffness through the back.

We also tend to experience stress, overwhelm, and strong emotions physically through the body, often noticing increased tension through the cervical, thoracic, and lumbar regions of the spine. While you’re here, take a few slow breaths and simply notice whether anything settles, softens, or shifts.

The corner of the counter provides a stable base of support and allows a bit more room for the chest and rib cage while you move.

This one isn’t for everyone and it does require a fair amount of shoulder, wrist, and upper body strength. Move slowly, modify as needed, and stay within your comfort zone.

If you choose to give it a shot, let me know how it feels. 🫶🏻

Sometimes what we call laziness is actually a nervous system that’s been working overtime for years.

I hear people describe overthinking, people pleasing, hyper independence, exhaustion, difficulty resting, trouble sleeping, always feeling on edge, or expecting the worst and then say:

“But it wasn’t that bad.”
“I should be over it by now.”
“I think I’m just lazy.”

Maybe.

Or maybe you’ve been carrying more than you’ve given yourself credit for.

Maybe you’ve gotten so used to pushing through, holding everything together, and minimizing your own experience that you’ve forgotten how much effort it’s actually taking.

Often, they grew up feeling responsible for everyone else’s emotions.

They learned to be the easy kid.

Not ask for too much.

Keep the peace.

Walk on eggshells.

Be praised for being independent.

Handle things on their own.

Years later, they’re exhausted, carrying tension everywhere, feeling guilty when they rest, and wondering why they can’t just get it together.

The truth is, most of us don’t compare our childhood to healthy.

We compare it to worse.

So if there wasn’t obvious abuse or chaos, we convince ourselves it couldn’t have affected us that much.

But sometimes what looks like anxiety, perfectionism, people pleasing, hyper independence, chronic stress, or burnout is a body that learned early on it needed to stay alert, perform, manage, or hold everything together.

Because from where I’m sitting, a lot of people aren’t struggling because they aren’t trying hard enough.

They’re struggling because they’ve been trying hard for way too long.

Because your body got really good at helping you survive.

And many women carry these patterns so well that no one notices how much they’re holding until they can’t hold it anymore. 💜

This gentle side lying position creates space through the ribs, diaphragm, chest, shoulders, thoracic spine, and hips.

Many of us spend our days bracing, protecting, holding tension, or pushing through discomfort. Over time, the body can become compressed, restricted, and exhausted from carrying so much.

By draping over a bolster, pillow, or rolled blanket, you’re inviting the body into a position that encourages expansion rather than effort.

From here, you can stay still, gently rock forward and back, reach through the fingertips, expand through the chest, or make small adjustments until you find the version that feels best for your body.

Notice what happens.

Does your breathing change?

Does one side feel different than the other?

Do your shoulders soften?

Do emotions, memories, or sensations arise?

There is no right answer.

Just information.

Try spending a few minutes on each side and observe what shifts. Sometimes the body doesn’t need more stretching, strengthening, or another thing to push through.

Sometimes it simply needs space. 💜

You learned to make yourself smaller to feel safer.

And for a while, maybe that worked.

Maybe it looked like avoiding eye contact.
Rounding your shoulders.
Staying quiet.
Not asking for what you needed.
Trying not to be noticed.

The problem is that our bodies often keep carrying those patterns long after the threat is gone.

So if standing taller feels uncomfortable, good.

Not because discomfort is the goal.

But because you’re teaching your nervous system something new.

That you don’t have to fold yourself up anymore.

That you can take up space.
That you can be seen.
That you can stay with yourself while you do it.

Learning how to unfold can feel awkward before it feels natural.

Keep practicing.

There are moments I sit in this room after clients leave and just feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

What started as a quiet little dream somehow turned into a space where women come to reconnect with themselves. A space where nervous systems soften. Where tears happen. Laughter happens. Big realizations happen. Where people begin understanding their bodies instead of fighting against them.

As a somatic practitioner and a woman of faith, I genuinely do not take this work lightly. I’m constantly in awe that I get to witness these moments with people and support them through some of the most vulnerable parts of their healing journeys.

And truthfully, there were so many moments I almost didn’t do this. Moments I questioned myself. Moments I wondered if I was capable of building something meaningful.

Now this little studio is booked. My clients trust me with their stories. My friends and family believed in me before I fully believed in myself. And this community continues to support me in ways I’ll never be able to fully put into words.

I’m just really, really grateful.

For every client.
Every conversation.
Every person following along here.
Every small step that led me here.

I cannot wait to see how this space continues to grow and how much I continue growing alongside it 🤍