The Edges of Joy
Why healing isn't just about surviving less—it's about learning to receive more of what's good.
I had a session with my therapist this morning that felt different than our previous sessions. And if I’m being honest, I feel the last few sessions have been different because I’m finally entering a new season of life that is much brighter than the last.
I started seeing my therapist back in 2023, during an incredibly traumatic period of life when I was oscillating between highly activated trauma responses and a collapsed dorsal-vagal state. There were many sessions where I presented characteristics of someone in a catatonic state… and maybe I was. I don’t remember much about how I was getting through each day, or even getting to and from these sessions.
The work I’ve done with my therapist (who is a seasoned psychotherapist, Somatic Experiencing Practitioner®, and IFS practitioner) has been the most profound of my life. I honestly believe that she helped save my life. So many of our earlier sessions were focused on supporting my nervous system and bringing me back into my body from the shock of this trauma. From there, our work shifted into the dissection of my family system, and for the first time in my life, I finally acknowledged the unhealthy dynamic that I was raised in.
Let me be clear…
I have been in some form of therapy, coaching, seeking, deep diving, and transformational work since 2006. I’ve sat in over a hundred plant medicine ceremonies and multi-week dietas in the Amazon jungle, trying to figure out how I could be better and do better.
And in 2025, for the first time in my life, I finally acknowledged the impact others have had on me.
As someone with a deep history of being gaslit, it was always easier for me to look within and seek out how I’m wrong, or I’m bad, or I’m not enough. What’s hard is looking outside myself, at the very people who were meant to keep me safe, and seeing them through a lens of truth.
This past year and a half of therapy has been the most life-changing of my 3-year journey with my therapist because I’ve had to recognize the ways in which I’ve allowed myself to be treated by those who supposedly love me. Each session left me feeling a little shattered, yet a little more put together because of all that I’ve had to let go of and all that I am becoming in the process.
With that said, our past few sessions have been different because I’m no longer carrying the weight of trauma that I once did. I am healing, and with that, I’m setting healthier boundaries, becoming healthier, and living my life with far more alignment than ever before.
My goal every day is to sustain and nurture how good I feel, and that shows up in different ways, from my consistent strength-training schedule to my diet to the way I spend my time. And as much as I still feel an edge of survival energy within me, I truly believe that I am slowly exiting a state of survival and entering a state of living.
Aliveness is what we find on the other side of trauma.
And the aliveness that I feel within me is palpable. So many good things are happening right now… so much richness and joy are being experienced each day.
The aliveness that I feel is helping me weave together a life rooted in living, not surviving.
But this is where things get tricky, which brings me back to today’s therapy session.
“How much joy are you willing to experience?”
This was the question raised in our session. I shared so many good things—life miracles filled with joy… yet I wasn’t smiling. She brought that to my attention, and I quietly muttered: “I’m afraid to smile.”
After everything I’ve been through…
The seemingly endless stream of traumatic events…
The breakdown of my body and deteriorating health…
The losses, grief, and heartbreak…
Of course I’m anticipating the other shoe dropping.
I’m scared to celebrate the good because something bad is bound to happen… at least, that’s what I think.
How much joy am I willing to experience?
That is the question I’m sitting with, quietly exploring the edges of my joy, overcoupled with fear. Both are true. Both are real. Both are present in my body, tangled up together like a ball of yarn.
I feel my joy, and I feel my fear…
And as I type this, I feel the tears stream down my face.
I remember the old me who felt joy…
The me who presented happy and confident…
The me who was thriving…
And I find myself asking: But was I alive?
As a Somatic Practitioner and someone who has lived through many dark nights, I truly believe that aliveness is what we find on the other side of trauma.
The goal isn’t to heal our trauma—it’s to reconnect to our aliveness.
Looking back, I don’t believe I was experiencing my aliveness. I believe I was presenting as a confident, happy, successful person, but all of that was covering the trauma buried within. This isn’t to say that my happiness wasn’t real or that my life was a total performance. What I’m saying is that what people perceived me to be didn’t match my actual experience. And who I perceived myself to be omitted pieces of myself that I wasn’t ready to see.
In this new season of life that has me immersed in joy, am I willing to experience it? Am I willing to hold both joy and fear, without getting them tangled up?
Do I have the capacity to feel joy without shutting down or abandoning myself?
I guess we’ll see.
As I explore the edges of my joy, I will develop the capacity to feel it. This is my practice for this season.
#PotentTruth:
Healing isn't measured by how little pain you feel.
It's measured by how much joy your body is willing to receive.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Let me know if any of this resonates, and if it feels good, share a little about your relationship with joy.
And enjoy this reel that I created on Instagram, showing the joy in my life.
With Gratitude,
I believe healing is less about fixing and more about remembering. In our work together, we honor the wisdom of your body and create the safety needed for that wisdom to emerge. I don’t force change—I attune to you, meeting you where you are and guiding you at a pace that feels right.
Through compassion, presence, and a whole-body approach, we gently unwind the imprints of trauma, restore flow, and return to the truth of who you are.
I offer private and group client experiences, in-person sessions, Zoom sessions, equine-assisted Somatic Experiencing®, and relational bodywork.