Square Two
You’ve done the work. You’re aware. But your body still feels like a battlefield.
You’re not broken — you’re just not alone anymore.
Lately, I’ve been noticing a pattern.
The people who are reaching out to work with me aren’t beginners.
They’ve read the books. Done the therapy. Named their trauma. Labeled their patterns.
They’re awake. Self-aware. Brilliant, even.
And yet…
They feel like they’re standing at the edge of something they can’t name.
They don’t need a wake-up call.
They need a way back in.
Back into trust.
Back into their bodies.
Back into the quiet wisdom that still lives under all that tension.
This is what I’ve started calling Square Two.
Square One wakes you up. Square Two invites you in.
Square One is when you first realize something’s off.
The job doesn’t fit.
The marriage feels hollow.
The anxiety won’t go away.
It’s messy and illuminating and full of intensity.
But Square Two?
Square Two is quieter. Trickier.
It’s the phase where you know what’s misaligned — but you haven’t quite landed in your new way of being.
Square Two is:
Feeling tired of your own healing loops
Wanting to make decisions from the body, but not knowing how
Having insight — but no integration
Yearning for congruence in your inner and outer worlds
Knowing something new is being born — but feeling like it’s still behind the veil
And here’s the kicker: Most people at Square Two think they should feel better by now.
But the nervous system still feels buzzy.
Or collapsed.
Or braced for something invisible.
Three humans. One ache underneath.
In the last few weeks, I’ve spoken to three people who seemed wildly different on the surface.
But when I listened closely — their longing was the same.
Let me introduce you:
James, the Builder on the Edge
He runs a fast-growing team. He’s generous, sharp, steady.
But lately, his high-capacity nervous system has started to show signs of strain.
He told me, “I don’t even know what I feel anymore. I just know I’m not okay.”
He didn’t need fixing. He needed space to feel — and permission to rest.
“I’ve always been the anchor for everyone else. I don’t know how to be soft with myself.”
Ana, the Tender Spark
She said yes to a session even though she “wasn’t sure it would work.”
When we dropped in, her voice was flat. Her energy curled in.
But when I sent a voice note after our session — she laughed. Replied. Teased.
There was life in her again. Just a spark. But it was there.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed hearing kindness in someone’s voice.”
Elise, the Quiet Reformer
She’s finally exiting a long season of caregiving. Her kids are grown. Her home is quiet.
She’s writing again. Creating. Feeling herself stir awake.
But self-doubt keeps creeping in.
“I keep getting frozen,” she said. “Like, I don’t trust myself to move.”
“I know there’s a version of me that’s more free. But I don’t know how to meet her.”
What if there’s nothing wrong with you?
These three people are different ages. Different stories. Different lives.
And yet — underneath the surface, they were all asking the same questions:
Is it safe to feel again?
What if I don’t know what I want?
How do I soften without breaking?
This is what I’ve come to believe:
Most people at Square Two don’t need a new self-improvement plan.
They need someone to walk beside them — not ahead of them — as they remember how to listen.
To soften the brace.
To be with their body, instead of trying to outrun it.
To feel safe being fully themselves.
This is the work
Not fixing.
Not performing.
Not optimizing your nervous system like it’s a KPI.
But simply this:
Building a relationship with your body
Reconnecting with what’s true beneath the noise
Learning how to hold the complexity — with kindness
If that’s where you are…
Know this:
You’re not behind.
You’re not too much.
And you’re not alone anymore.
P.S.
If this resonates — I’d love to hear from you.
I’m opening a few new spaces for a high-touch containter this month.
You can reply to this email or book a chat with me here.
I’ll also be sharing more of these client archetypes, nervous system notes, and alignment.
This season is for the ones who are ready to come home.
Not all at once. But breath by breath.