In a world that urges us to “heal", there’s an unspoken message beneath the surface:
You are not enough—not yet.
Healing, as it’s often sold to us, comes wrapped in light, but underneath it, there’s pressure. The pressure to fix yourself, to become someone better, to take full responsibility not just for your future, but for everything that’s ever happened to you.
Even the spiritual path can begin to sound like a polished version of the same old wound:
“You’re still not enough as you are. But maybe, with enough healing… you will be.”
And I followed that path.
Like so many women, I devoted years to healing, three silent 10-day meditation retreats, thousands of hours of self-inquiry, breathwork, somatic therapy, and trauma work.
And yet… despite everything, the meditations, the tapping, the inner work, the relentless search for freedom, a part of me still felt lost, still stuck.
I kept doing the work, believing that one day I would finally feel healed. But the more I chased healing, the further away I seemed to feel from myself.
And the more I tried to “become whole,” the more broken I began to feel.
It was never-ending, and I was exhausted. I was still waking up with doubt in my chest, still carrying shame like a second skin, still looking at life through the lens of pain and fear.
And despite all the tools and rituals, I didn’t feel empowered.
I felt like I was barely surviving.
And perhaps the worst part, this emotional turmoil, this constant undercurrent of something being “wrong,”
was keeping me from actually living.
I wasn’t feeling free and not seeing the results I longed for.
I was so focused on this healing that I could not hear Her real need.
For a long time, I tried to heal myself by planting new beliefs and applying the law of assumption, as used in manifestation. But no matter how often I repeated the affirmations or how clearly I visualised, something deep within me wouldn’t hold the change.
My body resisted. She didn’t believe the new story because she still carried an old truth.
Even though I was consciously aware that the trauma wasn’t my fault and that healing was now my responsibility, my body still carried rage. Rage that justice never came. Rage that I kept finding myself in places that didn’t feel safe, even as an adult. Rage that I hadn’t protected myself better, even when I knew more.
It was like something inside me still needed to be heard, not corrected, not improved, just profoundly, honestly seen.
And one day, I stood in front of the mirror: just me and the woman who had lived through everything and the little girl trapped in the body. And instead of asking her to rise or to be stronger or more spiritual or trying to release what was not ready to be released, I looked her in the eye, I touched her and told her, “You didn’t deserve what happened to you. It wasn’t your fault. And you don’t have to fix what others broke.” I validated that it was not fair what happened to her, and those who were supposed to protect her have hurt her without compassion. I validated each “ugly” feeling that came up, the blame she put on others, and the fact that it is not her responsibility to heal or fix something that was never broken to begin with.
Then I said the words that changed everything:
“You have permission to express everything you feel, in any way you want to.”
That was the moment something shifted.
My body started to cry.
It began to rock, tremble, and release, not because it was broken but because it was finally being allowed to be.
And what softened me wasn’t another belief. It was permission to express anything she wanted in any way she wanted, no censorship.
Through that moment, I came to understand that expression is not a luxury. It is a biological, emotional, and spiritual necessity.
Our bodies are not just holding memory. They are holding emotions. And those emotions—whether they show up as rage, grief, resistance, longing, or even silence—are not asking to be solved. It is asking to be expressed.
We become fragmented when we don’t allow our bodies to express what they carry. We disconnect. We perform wellness while suffering in silence. But when we give our bodies full permission to say what they want to say, feel what they want to feel, and move how they want to move, we begin to return to our natural state—one of wholeness, connection, and freedom.
I’ve come to see that expression bridges trauma and transformation, suppression and sovereignty, surviving and actually living.
To me, expression is not just emotional release.
It is divine communication.
It is the language of the soul, the movement of Source energy through the human form. We are the expression of God, Source, the Universe, life, whatever you want to call it; therefore, we have to give ourselves permission to express ourselves fully. Life is our expression. Everything we are and we create is our expression.
It is how our truth travels into the world.
This is why I now say: There is nothing to heal, but plenty to express.
And it starts with one sacred, radical act:
Permission to express fully.
I now guide my clients through this work—gently, intentionally, and with deep reverence for what the body has held.
It’s not about forcing change. It’s about creating space for expression. It’s about allowing what has been silenced to be felt and released so that the body can remember its truth, wholeness, power, and divine essence.
No real creation, manifestation, loving relationship, abundance or joy can truly anchor if the body doesn’t feel safe enough to hold it.
There is nothing to fix about ourselves; we didn't come here broken and sick. We came to express life and creation in every possible aspect.
When we finally give ourselves permission to express what was never allowed, we make space to express what we are.
This is how we return to life and begin to create from the true expression of who we are.