06/26/2026
“Trust me,”
She called to me through the tingling darkness,
amongst the pain.
I wanted to slow down.
To rest.
To just stop.
“Trust me.”
So I kept breathing
in time with the facilitator,
in time with the music,
in time with something deeper than my fear.
She led me back.
To my old bedroom.
To me.
I was on my left side, crying in despair
snot on my bicep,
collapsed into something younger than language.
“Trust me.”
She didn’t leave me there.
She knelt beside me
rubbed my temples,
finger-combed my hair.
And I realized
this was Self-soothing.
This was me, all those years ago,
learning how to stay.
She had been with me the whole time.
Whispering again and again:
“Trust me.
Trust me.
Trust me.”
—
There are moments where the body remembers before the mind understands.
Where breath becomes a doorway back to what was never actually lost.
If this speaks to something in you —
something somatic, something old, something asking to be met with presence —
I hold space for this kind of returning inside Sanctuary Circle.
A space for embodied inquiry, nervous system awareness, and remembering how to stay with yourself when things get real.
You don’t have to go there alone, like I did.
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