So many of us grow up craving the kind of love, safety, or validation we didn’t always receive as children. Maybe you had parents who did their best but couldn’t meet your emotional needs. Maybe you had to grow up too fast. Maybe no one ever taught you how to feel safe inside your own skin.

We often think of trauma and healing as two sides of the same coin. If trauma is the wound, then healing must be the salve, the repair, the mending of torn edges. That makes sense. It’s a tidy narrative arc.

When we fear losing others more than losing ourselves, that’s when our light begins to fade. We dim our shine, hoping that if we make ourselves smaller, quieter, or more agreeable, the people we love will stay. But isn’t it strange—this belief that if we stay joyful, radiant, and true to ourselves, we’ll be abandoned? Somewhere along the way, we learned to trust that misery connects us more than joy ever could. But that’s not the truth. That’s just the wound speaking.

A few days ago, I was chatting with one of my soul sisters and shared how worried I am for my nephew and niece. The world feels so intense and uncertain right now. But she looked at me and said, “Oh hon, don’t worry for them—worry for us!” At first, I didn’t get it. But five minutes into her explanation, I had to admit—she was absolutely right.

Family Constellations and Endobiogeny share a profound common ground—both go beyond surface-level symptoms to get to the true root of what needs healing. I was first introduced to these approaches for deeply personal reasons, and it was love at first sight. They touched me in ways that felt both transformative and undeniable.

Have you ever made a decision in a moment of panic—when your mind was racing, your chest was tight, and you just needed relief from the discomfort? Maybe it was saying yes to a job that didn’t feel right, staying in a relationship that drained you, or impulsively spending money to feel better, even if just for a moment. If you're nodding, you're not alone.