I’ve done a lot of healing work over the years. You might already know that I’ve tried a range of healing modalities like cognitive behavioral therapy, hypnotherapy, neurofeedback, transpersonal therapy, meditation and anxiety coaching, ayahuasca, transformational trainings, and more. All of them supported me in different ways and helped me grow significantly, but breathwork has really been the only thing that has helped me resolve patterns that I’ve carried for much of my life. It feels as though old loops are finally closing. Reactions that once felt automatic and compulsive no longer have the same grip they used to. There’s more space. More choice.

But something interesting has been happening lately. As these old patterns are resolving, I’m noticing that even when the underlying pattern is gone, the habits that grew around it can remain. This is yet another face, another example of integration. (If you haven’t read my reflection on what integration is and what it can look like, you can find it here.)

I recently experienced an example that allowed this all to finally click. I’m at a place in my healing journey where I feel more open to the possibility of relationships someday. At the same time, I know I’m not ready for one right now or and probably won’t be any time soon, if I’m honest. 

For most of my adult life, I have almost always been in a relationship. Part of that was because I genuinely enjoyed partnership. But part of it was also about wanting to feel loved, wanting to belong, and seeking from others what I wasn’t yet able to give myself.

Lately, I’ve been spending more time around men my age and I noticed myself slipping into some familiar habits. I found myself wondering what someone thought of me, replaying conversations, assessing compatibility, and paying attention to whether someone seemed interested in me. 

In the past, these patterns felt consuming. They would continue long after the interaction was over, pulling my attention away from my own life and back toward someone else. This time felt different. The habits were still there, but I could see them. 

More importantly, I could see that they no longer matched what I actually wanted. What I want right now is to continue building my own life. I want more time to get to know myself, strengthen my relationship with myself, and create a life that feels solid and aligned before inviting someone else into it. Not from fear. Not from avoidance. Simply because there is still more of me that I want to discover.

Even more importantly, I realized that this time, I felt like I had the ability to make a different choice. The best way I can describe it is that I no longer felt trapped inside the pattern. Instead, I felt like I was standing outside of it, observing it. I could see it for what it was. And because I could see it, I could choose something different.

This has given me evidence for something I’ve been suspecting for awhile: Sometimes healing is about clearing away what has been blocking our natural capacity to change.

I often say that breathwork clears out the clutter so that things can flow the way they’re meant to. From a nervous system perspective, that may be exactly what’s happening.

In his book Waking the Tiger, Peter Levine describes how stressful and traumatic experiences can become unfinished within the nervous system. Instead of fully completing their natural cycle, they remain unresolved, quietly (or not so quietly) influencing our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors.

Those unfinished cycles can feel like compulsions. We repeat the same reactions, the same beliefs, and the same behaviors without fully understanding why. Feeling unable to see the patterns and/or unable to do anything differently. 

What I’ve found through breathwork is that when some of those deeper layers begin to resolve, the associated habits don’t necessarily disappear overnight but they become easier to see. Easier to interrupt. Easier to change.

Additionally, years ago, I might have judged myself for falling back into old behaviors. I might have felt discouraged or ashamed. Now, when I notice one of these habits showing up, I find myself thinking, “Oh, that’s another habit that needs rewiring.” I’ve learned (the hard way) that pressure doesn’t help. Criticism doesn’t help. Kindness does. 

What I’ve come to appreciate is that healing isn’t necessarily about becoming someone new. Sometimes it’s about removing the obstacles that have been preventing us from being who we’ve always been. For me, breathwork has helped create that space by helping old survival patterns finally complete themselves so that something new can emerge naturally, as opposed to trying to force change.

The habits may still need rewiring, but for the first time, it feels like I’m doing that rewiring from freedom rather than from struggle.