Right, so I’ve been noticing something really interesting with my body lately, and it’s got me thinking about how our physical bits are basically a walking diary of our stress history. I’ve been on this journey of getting back to who I am, and somewhere along the line, a switch flipped. I just started caring about myself a lot more. Part of that has been losing some weight—very slowly, very gradually, and very sensibly. But here’s the fascinating bit. When I was younger, I never put on weight on my stomach. Never. But as I got older and the stress piled up, that’s exactly where it all went. I ended up with what I now know is a classic "cortisol belly." Lately, though? I can feel my stomach shrinking. It’s where I’m losing all the weight at the moment. And I reckon it’s because of the nervous system work. I’ve spent so much time doing the practices and getting myself back into a level, regulated area. I’ve finally got myself to a place where my body actually feels safe. When your system is stuck in survival mode, it hangs onto that belly weight for dear life because it thinks it's under threat. No amount of white-knuckling a diet will shift it. But once you create genuine, internal safety? The body goes, "Oh, okay. We can let this go now." I think a big part of that safety came from getting my ADHD and autism diagnosis, too. It allowed me to just go, "Ah, that’s okay," and finally accept how I’m actually wired instead of fighting it. That alone dropped my stress levels massively. The wildest thing is that I’ve got a lot going on right now—I'm mid-decorating, the house is a bit of a zone, and life is busy. But it’s not stopping me from feeling calm and okay. I’m not calm because my life is perfect; I’m calm because I’ve learned how to access that safe state more often, even when things are messy. It’s just beautiful to realize that the internal work we do eventually becomes externally visible. Your body believes you when you tell it it's safe. If this resonated and you want to start doing the work to release the stress come and join me in The Somatic Yoga Collective. It is just $7/m and you can try it out with a 7 day Free Trial.

I spent four and a half hours painting today. Harder work than I expected. And while I was doing that, I had a conversation I'd been quietly dreading, with my son's dad, about some changes my son's been navigating. I went in expecting it to get tense, expecting to have to manage a defensive reaction, and it didn't go that way. We ended up in a really good place, with him being supportive in a way that genuinely helps our son. At the end of the day, I noticed that neither of those things had unravelled me. Not the physical exhaustion, not the emotional care that conversation took. I just held it all, kept going, and came out the other side intact. That's not because today was easy. It wasn't. But here's what I keep coming back to. We talk about nervous system regulation like it means things stop being hard. Like if you've done the work, difficult stuff just rolls off you and life feels manageable and light. That's not what it actually is. Hard things are still hard. Tiring things are still tiring. Conversations that need careful handling still require care. A four and a half hour physical shift is still a four and a half hour physical shift. What changes is the capacity to hold those things without going under. Before I started doing this work, a day like today would have undone me. The physical tiredness alone would have sent me into a spiral. Add a delicate, emotionally loaded conversation on top and I'd have been done for the day, probably the next day too. Everything would have felt like too much. Now I'm tired. But it's the settled kind of tired. The kind where you can look back and think, yeah, I handled that well, and feel okay about it. Same life. Same demands. Different capacity. And that capacity isn't something you either have or you don't. It's something you build, steadily, through body-based practice that works in the middle of real life, not just on a perfect morning with a clear schedule. That's what The Somatic Yoga Collective is for. A gentle, consistent space to do that work, so that when the hard days come, and they always do, you've got something to land on.

The 28 Day Neural Rewiring Challenge starts in The Somatic Yoga Collective, and I'd love you in it. 28 days, one guided practice each day — a short follow-along to do with me, plus a teaching so you understand what's actually happening in your body. We move through four weeks together: establishing safety, melting the physical armour you've been holding, widening what your nervous system can handle, and coming back to vitality and joy. You don't need any experience. You don't need to do it perfectly. You show up, do the practice, and if you miss a day you come back. That's the whole thing. It's $7 a month to be in the Lab, and you can join on a 7-day free trial — that covers the whole first week, so you feel it work before you decide. Day 1 is tomorrow. Come and do it with us 💜 👉 https://www.skool.com/somatic/about

Ever wondered why a single sustained sound can drop your whole body into calm faster than almost anything else? It's not in your head. Your vagus nerve — the nerve that pulls you out of fight-or-flight — responds directly to vibration. Sound reaches it without going through thought. That's why humming soothes you, why chanting has been used for thousands of years, and why a room full of singing bowls can settle a nervous system that's been running hot for weeks. Today you can experience it for yourself. 🕡 Live Sound Healing — today, 6:30pm UK / 1:30pm EST, inside The Somatic Yoga Collective. It's led by Kristof Lambregts, a professional sound healer and yoga teacher with over 25 years in music, drawing on the tradition of Nada yoga. Lie down, put your headphones on, and let the bowls do the work. Can't make it live? Join today and you'll get the replay to keep. Free to start with your trial, then $7/month if you decide to stay. 👉 https://www.skool.com/somatic/about

I woke up this morning convinced the builders had painted my living room the wrong colour. I wasn't even home, I was at my mum's, and somehow my brain had decided to panic about a wall I couldn't see. The colour was fine, by the way. Right colour the whole time. But that set the tone for the entire morning. Hector was difficult the whole way to school, then I had to go to B&Q for a load of stuff, and suddenly every driver on the road was in my way and winding me up. I got home, tried to talk to my mum, found her irritating. Tried to work, couldn't concentrate. I was all over the place, pissed off, ragged, completely done with everything before it was even lunchtime. And I want to say something about mornings like that, because I used to think they meant something was wrong with me. When everything and everyone is irritating you, that's usually not a character flaw, it's a nervous system that's gone into activation. When your system is wound up like that, ordinary things, the traffic, your kid, your own mother, stop registering as normal and start registering as threats. Everything grates. That's not you being a horrible person, that's your physiology. The bit that always catches me out is this. I kept trying to work through it. I had hours before I needed to collect Hector and I was sitting there thinking I don't have the brain capacity to do anything. But the capacity was there. I just couldn't reach it, because you cannot think clearly from inside that much activation. Forcing concentration out of a dysregulated system doesn't make you productive, it just makes you feel more incapable, and then you've got the original stress plus a fresh layer of I'm failing sitting on top of it. So here's what I actually needed, and what I'm learning to reach for faster each time: 🌿 Stop trying to work first. It's not happening from here, and forcing it just digs the hole deeper. 🌿 Bring the system down before anything else. Get outside, move, breathe, cool off if it's hot, get out of the environment that's winding you up for twenty minutes.