The Body Remembers What the Mind Tries to Forget

How Emotional Healing Transforms the Physical Body

Something we don’t talk about enough: your body is not just a shell for your spirit, it is part of your story. A living, breathing archive. And no matter how good you get at distracting yourself, suppressing your feelings, or burying your trauma under a to-do list… your body remembers.

We tend to separate emotions from the body, but your nervous system didn’t get the memo.

• Stress lives in your jaw.

• Grief sits in your hips.

• Anger clogs your chest.

• Shame hides in your stomach.

  
  

It’s not poetic exaggeration. It’s neurobiology. And somatic memory. Your body has been listening the whole time. Even when your mind tried to forget.

So, why does this matter? Because the path to true healing is not just about talking it out or thinking it through. It’s about letting your body release what it’s been holding onto for years—sometimes decades.

The Hidden Cost of “Holding It Together”

Let me ask you something:

Have you ever gone to the doctor like, “My back hurts,” but what you really needed was to cry about 2009? Ooh wee let me tell you, I know I have! Yeah. That.

You’re in physical therapy doing stretches like, “Ow, that’s my lower lumbar,” but what actually cracks open is the heartbreak from your college situationship that ghosted you mid-finals week.

That’s not a coincidence. That’s the body telling the truth.

When we “hold it together,” we often hold it in, and what we don’t express, we store.

• Chronic headaches? Could be suppressed anger.

• Tight shoulders? Carrying burdens you were never meant to bear.

• Gut issues? Maybe it’s not gluten, it’s guilt.

(Okay, maybe it's also gluten. But let’s talk about the emotional gluten clogging your system. Now that's good!)

Trauma Is Not Just in Your Head, It’s in Your Tissues

Trauma isn’t just what happened, it’s what happened inside you as a result.

Trauma changes the brain, yes. But it also lives in the body. In fact, Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, reminds us that trauma gets embedded in our nervous system. Our bodies become hypervigilant, dysregulated, inflamed. Your adrenal system stays on high alert. Your muscles tighten. Your breath shortens.Translation? You may look fine, but your body is stuck in survival mode. And living in survival mode 24/7 will burn you out physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Healing Is a Whole-Body Process

So... What Does Healing Actually Look Like?

Healing isn’t just a concept I write about, it’s something I practice every single day. Over the years, I’ve learned that if I want peace, I have to participate in it. I have to create it on purpose. Healing doesn’t just happen, it’s cultivated. So here’s what I do to care for my nervous system, my emotions, and my spirit. These aren’t just ideas. These are part of my life, part of my healing and they’ve changed everything.

Real healing includes:

Breathwork 

I’ve become intentional about how I breathe. Deep breathing is now one of my go-to tools when I feel overwhelmed, anxious, or even disconnected from myself. It’s free, it's fast, and it works. I use breath to come back to my body. Even a few deep inhales can change the way I respond to life. Here is a tip: Set “breathe” reminders throughout the day. Yes, your phone should remind you to inhale sometimes. Life is weird like that.

Tears 

I used to think I had to be strong all the time. Hold it in. Push through. Smile anyway. But now I know better. Tears are strength. Sacred strength. They’re how the body rinses emotional residue, how the soul exhales what words can’t reach. Crying activates the parasympathetic nervous system, the one that calms, soothes, and brings you back to center.

So now? I let myself cry. In the car. In the shower. Mid-episode of that one show that always gets me. (Cue the tissue box.) Grief. Relief. Joy. Exhaustion. Whatever comes up, I honor it. Because there's no trophy for holding it in. Tears are my emotional detox, because I truly understand them now. They are my truth speaking. And I let them flow.

Rest 

I'm not just talking about sleep, but safety. I protect my rest like it's sacred. Because it is.

I prioritize at least 7 hours of sleep every night, non-negotiable. And I make sure my environment feels peaceful and safe enough for my body to actually relax. I wind down with prayer, soft music, and stillness. I don’t wear burnout like a badge of honor anymore.

Rest is holy. Rest is necessary. Rest is productive.

Movement 

Movement is medicine. I move my body daily, and not just to “exercise,” but to shift stuck energy.

I take long, beautiful walks. I dance in my living room like it’s my own private concert. I work out to get stronger, not just physically, but emotionally too. I stretch with intention. I even walk with purpose, feet on the ground, breath in my lungs, gratitude in motion. Movement is how I remind myself that I’m alive, not just surviving.

Stillness 

Stillness is where my answers live. Every day, I take time to sit still, pray and meditate. Even if it’s just 10 minutes, that space grounds me. That silence speaks louder than the noise ever could. I pray to align. I meditate to listen. I pause to receive. Stillness has become one of my most powerful tools.

Laughter 

I smile often. I laugh daily. Not because life is always light, but because laughter is medicine, and laughter lightens life. For me, joy isn’t optional. It’s medicinal. It’s one of the most potent spiritual practices I know. Laughter has saved me more times than I can count. It’s softened grief. Broken tension. Brought me back to breath. It’s how I exhale the weight and inhale the wonder.

Sometimes it’s something silly, a meme, a movie, a moment that catches me off guard. Sometimes it’s a friend who knows exactly how to draw the joy out of me when I forget where I left it. And when it comes? I feel it deep. My shoulders drop. My chest opens. My spirit rises. And my inner child, who’s seen some things, smiles and says, “That’s it. That’s what I needed.” Laughter, for me, is more than a mood, it’s medicine. It’s my reset button. My nervous system’s balm. My soul’s way of remembering that lightness and levity are sacred, too.

So yes, I laugh daily. On purpose. Not to avoid life’s depth, but to honor it.

Fueling Myself with Love  

show yourself love the best way you can every day

Another part of my healing? How I eat. I’ve become more intentional about what I put into my body. I eat healthier, not out of restriction, but out of love. I choose foods that nourish me, not punish me. I hydrate. I bless my meals. I listen to my body. I trust it.

Food is energy. And my body deserves to be energized, not depleted.

Doing More of What I Love — Do something creative as much as you can

Joy is healing. Period. I make space for the things that make my soul light up, creativity, connection, movement, quiet moments, walks in nature, deep conversations, music, writing, and pure, unfiltered fun. I don’t wait for a vacation to feel good. I create those moments in everyday life.

Be honest: What Are You Still Holding?

Take a moment to ask yourself:

• What pain am I still carrying in my body?

• Where does my body feel the most tense and why?

• When was the last time I let myself truly feel without numbing or explaining it away?

• What would happen if I stopped running from my feelings and started listening to them?

  
  

This is not about blame. This is about compassion. For your body. For your story. For the ways you’ve survived. And now, maybe, for the ways you’re ready to thrive.

A Note From Your Body (If It Could Speak)

"“Hey. I’ve been here this whole time. I held your heartbreak in my shoulders. I clenched your jaw when you couldn’t speak up. I gave you butterflies when you fell in love, and stomach knots when you didn’t feel safe. I’m not trying to punish you. I’m trying to protect you. But maybe now… we can do something different.”

Give Yourself Permission

This journey isn’t about being perfect, it’s about being present. It’s about learning to listen to your body, honor your emotions, meet your needs, and choose healing, over and over again.

I’m not sharing this to hand you a checklist. I’m sharing this to remind you: healing is possible. And it’s not some far-off destination, it’s in your next deep breath. Your next long walk. Your next belly laugh. Your next full night of rest.

Start small. Start real. Start with one thing.

Your body will notice. Your nervous system will sigh. And your soul will say, thank you.

Give yourself permission to show up exactly as you are. Because healing is not linear. Some days, you’ll feel like you’re glowing. Other days, you’ll want to crawl into bed and scroll memes until the ache gets quiet. And you know what? Both days are valid. Both days are sacred. Both days are part of the process. Because healing isn’t about perfection, it’s about connection.

Connection to your emotions. Connection to your breath. Connection to your story. To your body. To your self.

So breathe deeply. Cry when the tears come. Laugh without apology. Dance slowly and intentionally. Rest without guilt. Feel it all.

And always, always remember:

Your body is not the enemy. It is the messenger. It is the memory-keeper. It is the home. And it deserves to feel safe, loved, and held again.

With love and Peace,

-Yahminah