If you’ve ever felt confused, disconnected, or even irritated by that phrase, you’re not alone. Many people—especially those who’ve experienced trauma, chronic stress, or simply grown up in a culture that values thinking over feeling—find the idea of “being in your body” abstract at best and overwhelming at worst.

Ever found yourself going completely blank during a heated conversation?

You’re in the middle of an argument and your mind fogs over, your chest tightens, or suddenly you completely lose track of what you wanted to say.  This isn’t just a matter of being “bad at communicating”, it’s a trauma response that deserves attention.

Trauma has a profound impact on the brain. It can leave individuals feeling stuck, emotionally overwhelmed, and disconnected from their sense of safety. However, a groundbreaking therapeutic approach known as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) is changing the way we understand trauma recovery. EMDR doesn’t just help individuals process difficult memories—it actually works to rewire the brain.

For many high-functioning adults, work isn't just something you do — it's who you are.

You don’t just have a job. You are the doctor. The founder. The reliable team lead. The problem solver.
And over time, it can become difficult to separate your identity from your role — until the job ends, changes, or drains you so completely that you’re left wondering, Who am I without it?

When a natural disaster hits—like the recent flooding across parts of Texas—the damage isn’t just physical. Even if your home is safe or your family wasn’t directly impacted, kids may still absorb the emotional weight of what’s happening around them. They hear adult conversations. They pick up on fear. They see images on the news or TikTok that they don’t fully understand.

And yet, many parents feel unsure about what to say.
How much is too much? Should I protect them from the details? What if I don’t have the right words?

Many adults enter therapy having never had an emotionally attuned caregiver. Parents may have been physically present but emotionally unavailable, unpredictable, or wrapped up in their own survival. In these environments, you learn to stay quiet, stay helpful, or stay strong—but not how to stay connected to yourself.

If you’ve lived in Houston for more than five minutes, you already know: summer isn’t just “hot” here—it’s oppressive. The kind of heat that makes your skin stick to your clothes, your thoughts feel heavy, and your motivation completely disappear. And yet, we don’t talk enough about how this relentless weather can impact our mental health.

Let’s start with the honest answer most people don’t love to hear:
It depends.

But before you click away, let’s get into what that actually means—and why asking “how long will this take?” is often a stand-in for something much deeper.

If Pride feels heavy, bittersweet, or even disorienting, you’re not doing it wrong. You might just be bumping up against something deeper—something from the part of you that didn’t get to exist freely the first time around.

You may have heard about somatic therapy from TikTok, your trauma-informed friend, or even your last therapist. But if you’re still not totally sure what it is—or whether it’s right for you—you’re not alone.

There’s a particular kind of ache that comes with burnout. It’s not just exhaustion—it’s a bone-deep weariness paired with a quiet, persistent question: Is this really all there is?

You didn’t start your career expecting this. At one point, you were driven, creative, maybe even lit up by what you were building. But somewhere along the way, the hustle became survival. And now, after months (or years) of pushing, striving, and sacrificing sleep for output, you’ve hit a wall.

In conversations about trauma healing, the focus is often on resolution. Closure. A turning point that finally makes everything make sense.

That’s not how complex trauma works.

So you’ve found a therapist who gets it—someone you actually want to open up to. There’s just one problem: they’re out-of-network with your insurance. Cue the headache.

From the outside, things seem solid. You’ve got the job, the relationship, the resume that makes your parents proud. Maybe you’re even the one your friends go to when their lives are falling apart. And yet, something in you feels...flat. Untouched. Disconnected.

For many professionals in their 20s and 30s, the dream of meaningful work has collided headfirst with the reality of bills, burnout, and not nearly enough hours in the day. You may find yourself stuck in a job that drains you—emotionally, mentally, even physically—but the thought of leaving feels impossible. There’s rent to pay, student loans hanging over your head, maybe a family depending on your income. So you stay.

You may have come across EMDR therapy in a podcast, article, or a conversation with a friend. It’s one of those therapeutic approaches that sounds both intriguing and a little mysterious: Eye movements? Reprocessing trauma? Can that really help?

Let’s get real for a second. You know that feeling where you want to be the perfect client? The one who does all the right things, says all the right words, and—most importantly—looks like they have their life together? Yeah, I see you.

If you live in or around Montrose, you already know this neighborhood has a certain energy: creative, eclectic, deeply human. It’s also a place where a lot of people walk around with invisible wounds — trying to hold it together while quietly unraveling. Therapy here doesn’t have to be a cold, clinical process. It can be something more personal, more grounding, and more honest.

One of the most bewildering experiences of healing from relational trauma is this: missing the very people who caused us pain.

You might find yourself replaying memories. Longing for connection. Wondering if things were really as bad as you once believed. You may even feel shame for the grief you carry—as if you're betraying your healing process by missing someone who harmed you.

At some point—usually somewhere between your 30s and 50s—many men find themselves staring out the car window in traffic, gripping the steering wheel, and asking silently,
“Wait… is this it?”