When I first signed up for Somatic Experiencing® (SE™) training, I thought I was simply adding another tool to my professional skill set. I knew SE™ was powerful, that it helped regulate the nervous system and heal trauma in a deeper way. But what I didn’t realize was how profoundly personal the experience would become—how it would reach places in me that had been waiting a lifetime to be seen.
From the start, the course was exceptionally well-organized—punctual, clear, and full of rich, well-referenced material. The demonstrations weren’t just theoretical; they showed how to seamlessly integrate SE™ into real-life healing work, making the concepts come alive in a way that felt both accessible and deeply impactful.
But what made the biggest difference was the supportive environment. The assistants were patient and compassionate, which became especially important during the breakout rooms when we practiced the techniques ourselves. I never felt rushed or judged. Every question I had was met with kindness, curiosity, and a genuine desire to help us understand—not just in our minds, but in our bodies.
And then, something happened that I hadn’t expected.
As we worked with the survival responses—Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn—I felt something shift inside me. It was subtle at first, just a stirring, a slight discomfort. But as I stayed with it, the realization hit me: this wasn’t just theory for me. This was my life.
I had been living inside these survival responses for as long as I could remember. Freeze had kept me stuck. Fawn had softened me into people-pleasing, keeping the peace at the cost of my own needs. Fight had been buried so deep it only surfaced in indirect, disconnected ways. Flight had shown up as restlessness, the constant need to move, to do, to avoid stillness.
And underneath it all? Grief. So much grief.
Grief for the parts of me that had never been fully expressed. Grief for the times I had abandoned myself to stay safe. Grief for all the energy spent holding it together when my body had been desperate to let it go.
For the first time, I didn’t try to push these feelings away. I let myself feel them—fully, completely, in a way that was new and raw and real.
As I moved through these states—letting myself touch the anger that had been locked away, acknowledging the fear that had shaped so many of my decisions, allowing the Freeze to thaw—I felt something open up. It was as if my body had been waiting for permission to let go.
And on the other side of that? Peace.
Not the kind of peace that comes from avoiding or numbing. A deep, embodied sense of contentment. A quietness in my system, a softening in my edges. A new way of being in my body that felt, for the first time in a long time, truly safe.
I am deeply grateful for this experience—for the teachers, the assistants, and the space that was created for this kind of healing to unfold. This work is profound. It reaches places we often don’t even know need healing, and it does so in a way that feels gentle, natural, and deeply honoring of the body’s wisdom.
I hold this practice in the highest regard because I have felt, firsthand, how life-changing it can be.
If you are considering SE™, I encourage you to trust the process. It’s not just about learning techniques—it’s about learning yourself. And sometimes, that is the most healing thing of all.
Advanced I student
Golden, Colorado
July 11-16, 2024