Over the years, I've noticed a quiet shift in the conversations I have with women.
Of course, we still speak about trauma, attachment, relationships, the nervous system, and the many ways our past continues to shape our lives. These remain an important part of my work and continue to inform how I meet the women I work with.
But increasingly, I find myself sitting with women who are asking a different kind of question.
Not simply: How do I heal?
But: Who am I becoming?
I've come to believe this is one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves.
It often emerges at life's thresholds. After children leave home. Following divorce, loss, burnout or illness. Sometimes in the quiet realisation that the life we have carefully built no longer feels entirely our own.
And sometimes there is no obvious reason at all.
Only a growing sense that something within us is asking for our attention.
Over time, I've come to see that these are not simply questions of healing.
They are questions of becoming.
Of course, our past matters. Trauma, attachment, and our nervous system all shape how we learn to protect ourselves, relate to others, and move through the world. Understanding these patterns can be profoundly healing.
But healing is rarely the end of the story.
As our protective patterns begin to soften, another process often begins. We become curious about who we are beneath them.
We begin to notice what feels true, rather than simply familiar. We make choices that are less organised around fear, adaptation, or belonging, and more guided by something quieter, deeper, and more our own.
This is where the body becomes such an important companion.
Not only because it carries our history, but because it can also help us recognise what is alive, what no longer fits, and what may be waiting to emerge.
I don't think we ever arrive. Perhaps becoming ourselves is something we continue throughout our lives.
And perhaps that's what makes the journey so meaningful.