Coming Home to Ourselves:
A Personal Reflection on Working with Parts and the Body
In my work as a psychodynamic counsellor, I often sit with people who describe feeling disconnected from themselves. They might say, “I feel split in two,” or “a part of me knows I’m safe now, but another part is still terrified.”
These words always touch something in me, because I recognise that experience — the feeling of being made up of different parts that don’t always agree or trust each other. It’s something we all carry to some degree, especially if we’ve had to adapt to pain, trauma, or emotional neglect.
When I’m with a client, I try to slow down and listen to these inner voices — the parts that protect, hide, control, or simply long to be seen. Each part has its own story, its own emotional truth, and its own way of trying to help.
Sometimes a part might show up as self-criticism or perfectionism, another as deep shame or fear. Instead of trying to silence them, I invite curiosity: When did this part first come into being? What was it trying to protect you from?
I’ve found that when we meet these parts with compassion — rather than pushing them away — something begins to shift. The parts start to trust that they no longer need to carry everything alone.
Alongside this inner exploration, I pay close attention to what’s happening in the body. Our bodies hold so much of our history — the tightening in the chest when we remember a time we felt trapped, the heaviness in the belly when we speak about shame, the numbness that comes when something feels too much.
Sometimes in session, I’ll invite a client to pause and notice a subtle sensation, or the impulse beneath it. We might breathe into a tense area or simply acknowledge what’s there without trying to change it.
It’s often in these quiet moments — when words pause and the body speaks — that something new emerges. The body, which once held the story in silence, begins to release it in safety.
In addition to my one-to-one work, I also co-facilitate group, nature-based sessions and retreats with The Wellbeing Circle CIC. These gatherings offer a beautiful opportunity to explore parts of ourselves in community, held by the rhythm and wisdom of the natural world.
Something profound happens when we step outside of the therapy room and into nature — the boundaries soften, the nervous system settles, and the body seems to remember its belonging. In these group spaces, we share story, movement, stillness, and reflection. The land itself becomes a witness and participant in the healing process, reminding us that wholeness is not something we have to achieve — it’s something we return to.
Whether in one-to-one sessions or in group work, this gentle combination of psychodynamic exploration, somatic awareness, and connection with nature supports people in reconnecting with the parts of themselves that have felt lost or frozen. The protective parts start to soften, the younger parts begin to trust, and a sense of coherence grows.
I think of this work as helping someone come home to themselves — not by erasing what has been painful, but by bringing compassion and presence to all of it.
When a client begins to say things like, “I feel more like myself,” or “I can actually stay with what I feel now,” I know something real has shifted. The fragmented pieces are finding one another again.
For me, this is the heart of healing: not becoming someone new, but remembering who we already are — whole, complex, and deeply human.
I’m a psychodynamic counsellor based in Scotland, working with individuals who are exploring trauma, relational difficulties, and a fragmented sense of self. My approach weaves together parts work, somatic awareness, and relational depth to support integration and healing.
Alongside my counselling practice, I co-facilitate nature-based group retreats with The Wellbeing Circle CIC, creating spaces for collective reflection, grounding, and embodied reconnection.
You can learn more about my individual practice and approach at www.matrixtherapy.co.uk.