Showing up, even when my body said No!

This is a story about a day when my body told me not to show up, and why honouring myself meant showing up anyway.

I was getting ready to join a group coaching call when my energy suddenly drained. Something deep within me was telling me not to join the call. Not because I didn’t want to be there. This circle has been one of the most profound, healing spaces of my life. I always leave feeling more alive than when I arrived.

But that deep gnawing sensation was unmistakable: ‘Don’t join the call’. 

I used to follow those feelings without question. I’d allow avoidance to take hold and would busy myself doing everything but listening to what was actually happening inside. I didn’t yet know how to read these internal signals. I mistook every contraction in my chest as shame, every flutter in my stomach as proof that I wasn’t enough. Back then, the only interpretation I had was:

You’re failing.

Even now, knowing that isn’t true, especially not in this circle, the old interpretation still showed up first. It came in fast and loud:

“You haven’t done enough.”
“You haven’t made progress.”
“You can’t go in empty-handed.”

She’s young, formed long before I had any tools for emotional safety. Back then, she had to guess what the adults wanted to avoid explosions, to keep the peace, to survive. She never got to rest. She never got to believe she was enough just by existing.

These days, instead of letting those young parts run the whole show, I’m learning to meet them where they are at, with kindness and compassion.
I stop.
I listen.
I ask, “What’s underneath this? What do you need?”

This little part of me is terrified of being judged. And her sudden shift into anxiety scrambled everything internally. All the things I had done suddenly vanished from my memory. My mind went blank. My body felt heavy and foggy. I felt lost and couldn’t focus. I couldn’t find a single thread to hold onto. It was the kind of lost that feels shameful even though no one else can see it.

The desire to run and hide was overwhelming. That draining sensation was her trying to pull me into safety the only way she knew how.

But then another voice, softer, wiser, rose in me.

This is a safe space.
These beautiful souls welcome all parts of you.
They love how you show up: gently, honestly, messy owning yours and other people’s boundaries, full of care and compassion. The way you show up helps them do the same.

And then it reminded me,
You have done things, remember? The networking event. The conversation in the park. Those moments where you showed up as yourself, real, grounded, impactful. These moments matter. They count too.

Hearing that helped my parts start to settle. It helped this young part of me realise that we are in a different place now. And we are healing.

So I took a few grounding breaths. And slowly, I let the pressure in my shoulders and back start to loosen.

I reminded myself that showing up in my truth, tired, scattered, healing, connecting, making a difference just being me, is not a failure. It’s self-respect. It’s belonging without performance.

It’s proof that I no longer believe I must earn my place.

The more I practice it, the more I realise:
I only want to be in spaces where all parts of me are welcome.
Spaces where nothing about me needs to be “fixed” before I arrive.
Spaces where my humanity is my worth, not a liability.

And I am so deeply grateful that this coaching circle is one of those spaces.

If you find your achiever parts trying to convince you to mask up, to stay small, or to opt out of something you actually want, let me know. 

I can teach you the Embodied Insights approach I use used here. The same one that helped me find my way back to myself when I needed it most.