For many survivors, taking up space isn't just about being seen — it's about remembering how to be with ourselves. And one of the most powerful (and often overlooked) ways we do this is by learning to live inside our bodies again.

This can sound abstract at first. What does it mean to “live into” your body?

It means noticing the ache in your shoulders before pushing through it. It means realizing you’re thirsty and actually getting up to get water. It means pausing long enough to notice the clenching in your jaw or the flutter in your stomach — and being curious about what those sensations are trying to tell you.

When we’ve experienced trauma, especially relational or developmental trauma, we often learn to disconnect from our bodies. Dissociation becomes second nature. We adapt by numbing, ignoring, overriding. Our bodies stop feeling like safe places to inhabit — and so, without even realizing it, we drift.

But when we begin the slow, intentional work of embodiment, something starts to shift.

We begin to recognize that our bodies aren’t the problem. That they’re not betraying us — they’re trying to speak to us. And taking up space becomes a way of listening. It becomes a way of saying: I deserve to be here. My needs matter. My sensations are valid.

And yes, this often comes with discomfort. Feeling more isn’t always pleasant. But feeling more is the path toward being more — more connected, more rooted, more whole.

Taking up space means reclaiming ourselves. To trust our gut. To say yes when something resonates and no when it doesn’t. It’s not about forcing confidence — it’s about building a relationship with our body and our inner knowing, one felt moment at a time.

This isn’t easy work. It asks us to be present in places where we’ve learned to disappear. But it’s crucially important work. Because when we return to our bodies, we begin to return to ourselves.

Something to try this week:
Set a five-minute timer and gently check in with your body. What do you notice? Are there areas of tension, numbness, ease, or sensation? Can you place a hand on your chest or your belly and simply be with yourself, even for a moment?

This is what taking up space can look like: choosing presence over performance. Choosing connection over avoidance. Choosing you.

You are not too much. You are not too needy. You are not wrong for wanting to feel more alive in your life.

Dear one, you’re allowed to live fully into your body — and that, too, is taking up space.

Thank you for letting me see you,