**Shared with permission. Details anonymised.**
Su came for an in-person somatic healing session feeling like she did not know what was wrong.
There was no single clear issue she could point to. What she described was more like a buildup. For about a month, she had been carrying overthinking, uncertainty, and questions around purpose and worthiness. She was functioning on the outside, but internally, she was working hard to keep going.
In our conversation afterwards, she described it as being able to “float on top of it” while knowing she was struggling underneath.
A simple question like “How are you?” had become difficult to answer honestly.
Her internal response was often:
“I just need a cry first.”
Or:
“I haven’t cried today.”
She was not saying this out loud to people. It was more like a hidden subtitle running inside her.
If she had already cried that day, she could say she was okay and feel like it was somewhat true. As she put it:
“Yeah, I’m okay… (because I cried today.)”
Crying was not difficult for her. In fact, when she sat alone, tears could come quite easily. The important part was this: crying helped her get through the day, but the same pressure would return again and again.
Crying gave her relief. It helped her feel present with herself and gave her enough capacity to continue. But there was also a sense that this was only “for today.”
The next day, the same emotional pressure might come back to the front of her mind.
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The Pattern We Were Working With
When I asked her why it felt significant that the thought was gone after our session, she described how much space it had been taking up. When the thought was there, it made it harder to move through the day and talk to people.
Her metaphor was:
“Like something has been tied to your cap and dangling in front of you the whole time. While you can still move forward and walk and get through the day, you can’t ditch the fact that this thing has been blocking some part of your view.”
That image captures something I see often in this work.
A person can still function day-to-day. They can still answer messages, meet people, go to work, and carry on with daily life.
At the same time, part of their attention is occupied by something unresolved.
It may not stop them completely, but it changes how much space they have inside.
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What We Did In The Session
We began by checking in and exploring what she was feeling. Since she came in with “I don’t know what’s wrong,” we did not try to force an explanation quickly.
Instead, we slowed down and followed what was present.
What I did with her:
– checking in with what was happening emotionally
– tracking sensations in the body
– guiding her into breath and body awareness
– working with her inner wisdom
– allowing crying to happen when it came
– staying with a heavy sensation in the body
– using a combination of verbal support and touch-based support
– closing with integration
In my work, the “inner wisdom” refers to the part of us that can access a wider perspective. Some people might call this the higher self, or the part that knows how to move toward healing.
During the session, we were not trying to make her cry. The focus was on staying with what her body was carrying, while she was supported and witnessed.
This distinction mattered.
When we spoke afterwards, she said the difference between crying on her own and crying in the session was:
“There is someone there.”
That may sound simple, but it is often central to somatic healing.
Many people know what to do. They can journal, meditate, breathe, cry, reflect, and understand themselves deeply.
And still, some pain needed to be witnessed.
Some emotional processes need enough safety, presence, and support before the body can move through them in a different way.
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What Shifted After The Session
One to two days after the session, she messaged me to say that for the first time in the past couple of weeks, she did not have the thought “I just need a cry first.”
She also noticed a change in her breath.
Before the session, her breath had felt shallow and stuck. She described it as: “Every time I try to take a deep breath, it just stuck in my chest.”
After the session, her breath felt different.
“The pipe is unblocked.”
The shift was not only emotional. Her body was registering something different too.
Her breath could move in a way it had not been moving before.
At the time of our follow-up conversation, she confirmed that the breath shift was still present. The “I need a cry first” thought had also not returned.
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My Reflection As A Practitioner
This case study matters to me because it shows a distinction I often pay attention to in somatic healing:
Sometimes emotional release is not the same as emotional completion.
A person can cry and feel better temporarily. That crying may be real. It may be necessary. It may offer relief.
At the same time, if the same pressure returns the next day, the body may still be asking for something more.
In Su’s case, crying alone helped her feel present and gave her enough relief to continue with the day. In the session, something different became possible because she was not alone with the pain. Her body had support. Her experience was witnessed. We stayed with the emotional and physical sensations together.
The result was practical and specific:
– the daily thought of needing to cry first was no longer there
– her breath felt smoother
– the stuckness in the breath had shifted
– she described it as the “pipe” being unblocked
For me, this is the heart of somatic healing.
It is not about forcing a dramatic breakthrough.
It is about creating enough safety and presence for the body to process what it has been holding.
Sometimes the change shows up as insight.
Sometimes it shows up as tears.
Sometimes it shows up as a breath that can finally move.
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