Hi, I am Kristin
I stood in a wedding dress once, smiling for photos, and felt nothing.
Or maybe I felt everything, but none of it was mine. Like I was watching myself play a part in someone else's story.
I went through with it anyway.
Because that's what you do when you've spent your whole life doing what you're supposed to do.
THE UNBURYING
The divorce itself was simple. It was the emotions I'd never let myself feel that were a mess.
All those moments of smiling through it. Of making it work. Of being good and capable and fine.
When it all finally fell apart, I had to ask myself: How did I let this happen? How did I get so far from myself that I couldn't even feel my own life?
THE BODY KNOWS
I tried to think my way back. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. Books. All the places you go when you believe the answer is somewhere out there.
Then I found somatic work.
And everything changed.
Because I wasn't lost. There was just so much piled on top of Her that I couldn't hear Her anymore.
The tightness in my chest during that wedding. The exhaustion no amount of sleep could touch. My body had been trying to tell me Her story the whole time.
I just didn't know how to listen.
HOW I SEE
I'm AuDHD. My brain works differently.
I feel everything. I see patterns before they form. I process the world from the inside out.
For most of my life, I thought these things made me weird. Too sensitive. Too much.
Now I know they're what allow me to do this work. To feel the truth underneath what someone's saying. To notice the loops they're caught in. To trust what the body knows before the mind tries to explain it away.
What you get with me.
I don't follow expectations anymore. I can't perform a polished version of myself. What you get with me is what's real.
The laugh that comes easy. The transparency about my own process. The willingness to sit with you in the uncomfortable places without needing to fix or rush anything.
I think what makes people feel safe with me is that I genuinely don't need them to be anything other than what they are.
No judgment. No agenda.
Just presence. And a deep respect for the wisdom already living in your body.
I'm still learning. Still unlearning. Still discovering layers of conditioning I didn't know I was carrying.
But I know this:
You're not lost.
She's been there all along, waiting. Buried under years of doing what you're supposed to do. Under expectations and performance and the exhaustion of being who everyone needed you to be.
She has a story no one's heard yet. And your body's been trying to tell it.
That's who I am. That's what I learned. That's what I bring.