Why you still can't let go, even when you know you're safe

Why you still can’t let go, even when you know you’re safe. Sometimes you think: but that was so long ago.
You’re an adult now. Maybe you have a beautiful relationship. Friends around you, who truly know you. A job you love. Maybe you’ve done therapy. Meditate, you know how things work. And yet, suddenly and quietly, it sneaks in.
Like a shadow brushing across your chest.
You’re lying in bed next to someone who adores you, someone you feel safe with. And still, your body closes. Not because of them. Not because of now.
But because your skin remembers what your mind has long tried to forget.

I was bullied as a child. Not teasing or occasional mean words. But real bullying. The kind that silences something deep inside you. That convinces you you’re either too much or not enough. It didn’t just hurt at the time; it lingered. It settled in my body. In my nervous system. And even now, years later, with all my knowledge about trauma, energy work and healing, I can still notice it sometimes.
As a thought and also as a physical sensation.
A quiet contraction. A whisper in my energetic body: be careful.

Why you still can’t let go

And here’s the thing. You can have done years of therapy. You can lie beside the most loving partner you’ve ever known. And you can know, with your whole mind, that you’re safe.
But still, somewhere deep inside, on a soul level, your system might not fully let go.
Not because you don’t want to.
But because, for you, safety was never something to take for granted.

And that kind of deep safety. The kind that invites surrender, lives not in the mind. But in the body. In the places that learned, long ago, to stay alert. To stay small and to stay in control.

What is your energetic body, anyway?

We all have one. Even if we don’t always sense it clearly.
It’s that subtle field within and around you. The layer of you that feels someone’s presence before they speak. The one that contracts when someone gets too close, or softens when someone loves you just right. It registers more than your thinking mind ever could.

For me, it’s in that energetic body where the imprint of bullying still echoes.
Not as memory, but as tension. As a moment of pullback.
A sudden feeling of not fully being in my belly. As if, even now, some part of me thinks it’s not quite safe to be here.

It’s not just in your head

That might be the hardest part of all this. We’re often taught that trauma is something we think through.
But it lives in the body.
Especially emotional trauma, like bullying, rejection or shame.
It settles in your breath. In the muscles that learned to hold you small. In the way your hips protect themselves. And in the way your chest closes without you even noticing.
And if you’ve lived in that for long enough, your body starts to believe this is just how life feels.

I realized this when, during a deep energetic session, I was invited to fully land in my pelvis and my entire system pushed back. Not in words, but in sensation. A silent resistance. As if my body whispered: this part of me isn’t safe. And I knew immediately: This isn’t about now, this is old.

And what can you do?

Here’s the truth: I can relax easily. I laugh, rest, and enjoy life.
But when the moment calls for surrender, whether in intimacy or vulnerability. I sometimes still find myself freezing up, especially when it truly matters.
It’s never about fear of the other person, but an old, protective instinct woven deep within me.

Thanks to my training and dedicated energy work, I’m learning to feel more safe and grounded in my body in those moments. Through specific exercises and inner work, I’m gradually opening to surrender in a way that feels authentic and secure.
While it can still be a gentle challenge at times, I feel confident in the path I’m on. I’ve come a long way in my healing journey.

This deepening safety not only supports me. because when I’m ready to complete my training, I want you to know that I’m here for you. I understand what it’s like to carry these hidden wounds. I hold space for your vulnerability with compassion and care. My hope is to gently guide you through your own journey of healing and surrender. Just as I’m doing for myself.

Many people carry this same hidden wound. Just beneath the surface, showing up whenever life asks for softness.
Because surrender is no small thing. Whether in love, creativity, or simply being truly seen. Letting go requires a kind of safety most of us have never fully experienced.

Why you still can’t let go

And so, what helps me isn’t trying to push through it. But staying with myself, gently.
Not fixing but just listening.
Sometimes it means placing a hand on my belly and whispering, I hear you.
It means moving slowly, letting my body find its own rhythm.
Sometimes it means doing nothing at all, just being with what is. Allowing the process to unfold.

Healing is not a straight line and surrender doesn’t come all at once.
Sometimes it’s just the smallest opening. A softening.
And in that softness, the deepest shifts begin.