Touching the Bones is for women, femmes and thems, who are ready to come back into deeper, embodied relationship with themselves.

Perhaps you’ve spent years being capable, responsible, accommodating, successful, taking care of others—or simply surviving. Or you have been recovering from trauma or navigating the gauntlet of chronic illness. You know how to keep going. You know how to hold it together. You know how to endure.

But somewhere along the way, you lost yourself. Perhaps you had to disconnect to survive.

You might find yourself asking:

What do I actually want?
What does my body need?
What feels good to me?
Where is my yes? Where is my no?
What happened to my desire, creativity, my spontaneity, my sense of aliveness?
Who am I when I'm not surviving, pleasing, producing, or taking care of everyone else?

This work is especially potent for those who have experienced trauma, chronic stress or illness, dysfunctional relationships, people-pleasing, perfectionism, over-functioning, or long periods of living disconnected from their bodies.

But you don't need a particular story to belong here.

You may simply sense the growing desire for some new, somme deeper, something more true and authentic to you.

Why movement?

Because the body often knows before the mind and heart do.

We can think our way through change for years. We can understand our patterns, analyze our histories, and know exactly what we should do differently—while our bodies continue to carry the old ways of protecting, bracing, disconnecting, and holding back.

Movement offers another doorway.

Through movement, sensation, breath, rhythm, stillness, gesture, sound, and choice, we begin to listen to what is happening beneath the words. We create space to notice the parts of ourselves that have been muted, overridden, abandoned or forgotten—and to experiment with something different.

Not by forcing ourselves to change. By becoming present enough, and curious enough, to listen. To feel. To fully be.

What makes this work potent?

Touching the Bones isn't about fixing yourself or becoming a better version of yourself.

It is an invitation to loosen your grip on who you've learned you need to be—and to encounter what is still yours beneath it.

For one woman, that might be her voice.

For another, her capacity to rest.

For another, anger, creativity, sensuality, boundaries, pleasure, play, grief, desire, or the simple ability to feel at home in her own skin.

We don't arrive knowing exactly what will be reclaimed.

We create the conditions to listen.

And through that listening, something essential can begin to emerge.

This is the potency of embodied reclamation:

not adding something new to yourself, but making room for something that has been there all along.