Still Holding My Breath
Sometimes I catch myself—shoulders tight, jaw clenched, lungs empty. Not because I’ve stopped breathing altogether, but because I’m barely breathing. It’s like my body is waiting, bracing for something I can’t quite name. I didn’t even realise how often I was holding my breath until I started healing. Now, I notice it all the time. Stress. Fear. Even excitement. And suddenly, I’m frozen, breath trapped in my chest. No one ever taught me that breath was power. That it could anchor me. That it could calm the storm inside me. That I could use it to come back to myself when I felt overwhelmed or lost. But now I know better. And even though I still forget sometimes—even though I still find myself gasping for air after hours of shallow breathing—I come back. To the inhale. To the pause. To the exhale. To the letting go. Try it. Right now. Breathe in slowly. Hold it for a moment. Now exhale, longer than you think you need to. Do it again. Feel the difference? That’s your body softening. Tha...