On Monday morning, I knew I wanted to write. I’ve had a post brewing for weeks but just couldn’t find enough space to let it flow out of me. After the morning rush of getting the girls ready for school and taking the puppy out for a walk, I started to feel the weight of duties and responsibilities. There’s camping gear scattered around from last weekend’s getaway (still), the breakfast rush is there to be cleared away, I’m already sweating in the crazy hot summer we’re having, I’ve got life/kids/house admin to take care of, emails to respond to, the list goes on. My mind feels messy, my body feels heavy, and I’m supposed to just… start.

This is such a pivotal moment.

I could choose to tackle my to-do list, answer those emails, clean the house, get it all done. Override, push through, feel productive, see immediate results. Or I could choose to spiral, berating myself for not feeling motivated, for feeling stagnant, for not moving forward in my creative projects. I’m sure this pressure is familiar to some of you, especially when you are trying to do deep or creative work.

It’s hard to just flip the switch and get going, right?

Instead, I decide to sit on my kitchen floor amongst the mess and do a bit of fluid movement, nothing too structured. A few hip circles, some chest openers, some cat cows, a bit of shaking. I put on some music I love and let myself move to it with my eyes closed. And then I just sit in silence for about 5 minutes - a bit of stillness, a bit of quiet, a bit of nothingness. A recalibration, a mini reset in just 10 minutes. I definitely feel lighter, clearer, more connected, able to step out of the frenetic, automatic pilot. I decide to tidy up the kitchen, answer an important email and leave the rest for now. I go upstairs, sit at my desk and write…

Subscribe now

“I’ve seen women insist on cleaning everything in the house before they could sit down to write... and you know it’s a funny thing about housecleaning... it never comes to an end. Perfect way to stop a woman. A woman must be careful to not allow over-responsibility (or over-respectability) to steal her necessary creative rests, riffs, and raptures. She simply must put her foot down and say no to half of what she believes she “should” be doing. Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.”

― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

I believe that the state that we’re in when we’re moving towards our desires is more important than anything else.

If my perfectionist/fear-based/scarcity/urgency states are fuelling me, nothing that I’m proud of will ensue. My writing, my work, my offerings will feel dry, uninspired, limited. Or, I won’t even start at all. I will keep putting it off until I finally find that slice of time and space.

But there is no such thing as being ‘given’ time and space - you have to create it for yourself, prioritise it, be a badass and say no to some shit so you can create and make in peace.

It’s a bit like foreplay for creativity. You need to get in the mood, feel excited, lit up, connected. For me, it looks different depending on the day. Some days it’s some movement and stillness in my messy kitchen. Some days it’s a sweaty workout to good music. Some days it’s a walk in my local nature reserve. Or it might be some self-massage with scented oil followed by reading a few pages from an inspiring book.

It reminds me of cultivating a little romance as busy and exhausted parents. Sometimes we just don’t have the energy to go out, get a babysitter etc. So we clear the space as much as energy allows, put the kids to bed a little earlier, put a nice tablecloth on, light some candles, get some lovely food and wine in, play some music. We create a romantic atmosphere within our hectic life and our bodies soften, our nervous systems settle and we can actually have a chat and connect.

A question I often ask my clients when they’re trying to be brave in their work and move towards projects or goals is: what would you be feeling if you achieved your goals? The answer is often ‘relaxed’ or ‘empowered’ or ‘at ease’. Then I ask them to find moments in their life now where they can already feel these feelings - to tap into possibility and create more opportunities to feel it. So, for example, if launching your own business would make you feel empowered, where in your life do you already feel empowered? Can you amplify this further so you’re spending more time in the state you so desire?

Subscribe now

Our brains will always prioritise safety, security and stability. So if there’s a choice between doing mundane tasks that you’ve done a million times and creating something new from scratch (a painting, a piece of writing, a creative project), it will prioritise the daily tasks. They are easy to tick off (hello dopamine), they’re known. Choosing to step out of your comfort zone requires a little whimsy, a little play, a little pleasure - something that taps you into the possibility. When I’m in creative flow while writing, I mostly feel focused, spacious and inspired. My work is to tap into these feelings more often so that slipping into that flow might just become a little easier, more fluid and regular..

Do you relate? Are there always a million reasons why it’s not the right time to start? What are you putting off? I’d love to know - drop me a line and I’ll respond.

A movement meditation to help you get into creative flow

I’ve recorded a little gift for you, a 10 min guided movement meditation to help you unwind tension, move, breathe, and feel in a way that unlocks insight and creativity. Download the movement meditation. Try it next time you’re feeling stuck.

Subscribe now

Anouk is a somatic life and career coach supporting women to slow down, reconnect to their body’s wisdom and build inner confidence. Come say hi here.

I have found myself in the void, the messy middle, the liminal so many times. I’ve often felt a lot of resistance to the not-knowing of it all, desperately finding ways to secure something certain or stable so I can feel ‘safe’ again. The promise of getting your baby into a routine to make new motherhood easier. Lining up your next job because it feels safe even when your heart is saying: “no, something better will come along, just wait”. Patience is definitely not one of my virtues.

But then came the biggest void a few years back when I left my full time job at Google to pursue coaching.

I was in so many transitions at the same time: shifting from corporate into self-employment, moving house, raising 2 young daughters and recovering from burnout.

It’s been a slow unlearning of my usual patterns of seeking certainty at all costs and being able to be in the vastness, the potential, the fertility of the void. The void is often misunderstood as failure or emptiness, but it’s a necessary space where endings meet beginnings, where transformation has the space to grow roots into something new. I’ve learned that when I lean into it, allow it, even embrace it - essentially I slow down enough to build receptivity to what is next. Trees must shed all their leaves before the buds and blossoms arrive in spring.

The Bridges Transition model says that before people can fully embrace the new, they need to be given time and space to let go of the past. The model involves three distinct stages: endings and letting go, a neutral zone (or what I like to call a fertile void) and new beginnings.

Subscribe now

Grief and endings

When we find ourselves in the void, we’re letting go of something - a past version of ourselves, a person, a place. A lot of us avoid grief at all costs and keep moving, stay busy and distract ourselves. Why would we want to purposefully feel sorrow and grief? I’ve come to have a deeply intimate relationship with grief and now see it as a clearing, a washing away, an honouring of what was and what wasn’t. The ambition and frenetic energy that used to fuel me. The carefree pre-kids version of me. My younger self who needed more emotional attunement.

It definitely feels like a threshold that needs to be crossed again and again to access more love, more creativity, more aliveness. We don’t need to breakdown completely - and actually allowing grief, tears, sadness to drip feed on a more regular basis - will make sure you don’t have a breakdown. You don’t want it to build up or boil over.

“I’m not sure how or when I began my apprenticeship with sorrow. I do know that it was my gateway back into the breathing and animate world. It was through the dark waters of grief that I came to touch my unlived life. . . . There is some strange intimacy between grief and aliveness, some sacred exchange between what seems unbearable and what is most exquisitely alive. Through this, I have come to have a lasting faith in grief.”

- Francis Weller, The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief

The fertile void

The fertile void, the liminal space, the in-between. The old story no longer fits but the new one hasn’t formed yet.

The fertile void is what happens when we stop filling the silence. It sounds counterintuitive but this generative nothingness is where sensation, intuition and authentic desire have space to emerge. You’re stepping out of the automatic pilot of your life which opens up the potential for noticing, looking up, being more receptive. The founders of Gestalt therapy saw it not as emptiness to be fixed, but as the natural birthplace of new ideas, creativity and direction - but only if we are willing to stay in it long enough to find out what’s growing there.

I’ve found that when you make space to listen to the quiet stirrings, they will bring many treasures and lessons. In the past few years, I’ve heard the same messages over and over again presented in slightly different ways - through nature, in relationships, in bodily symptoms, in things I read. For me, it’s about trusting my own voice and capabilities instead of hiding behind a company or founder. It’s about fully embracing my sensitivity and seeing it as a gift. It’s about trusting there is no rush and that slow, steady work is my medicine (this does challenge me often, because, capitalism!).

Somatic experience of the void

When you’re in this in-between place, the body knows before the mind catches up. You might notice a restlessness in your heart space wanting to skip ahead to what’s next, a heaviness in your shoulders wanting to give up, some problems sleeping. This is your nervous system trying to make sense of a world that suddenly feels unfamiliar. This is not something to fix - it’s simply something to be with and soothe, a bit like grief.

Subscribe now

Expansion and new beginnings (finally!)

The next stage is expansion, a new beginning and finding your flow. It will likely not emerge as big fireworks all at once, but in tiny glimpses here and there. A lightness coming over you, a feeling of everything being Ok (even when not everything is resolved), more self-trust in your decisions, an ability to say no to plans or opportunities if they’re not aligned, a clear calling in of what does feel right. It’s essentially coming out of survival mode and into thriving. It’s possible that from the outside not a whole lot has changed - it’s mostly an inside job. It might be a more playful way to be with your kids. It might be finally trusting yourself enough to do what you really love in your work. It might be realising you’re totally worth the love you seek. In this space, the right opportunities and possibilities will open up and make themselves known.

I love this poem by John O’Donohue about new beginnings:

In out-of-the-way places of the heart, Where your thoughts never think to wander, This beginning has been quietly forming, Waiting until you were ready to emerge. For a long time it has watched your desire, Feeling the emptiness growing inside you, Noticing how you willed yourself on, Still unable to leave what you had outgrown. It watched you play with the seduction of safety And the gray promises that sameness whispered, Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent, Wondered would you always live like this. Then the delight, when your courage kindled, And out you stepped onto new ground, Your eyes young again with energy and dream, A path of plenitude opening before you. Though your destination is not yet clear You can trust the promise of this opening; Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning That is at one with your life’s desire. Awaken your spirit to adventure; Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk; Soon you will home in a new rhythm, For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

- John O’Donohue, For a New Beginning

If something in this piece landed for you, come find me. I’d love to hear where you are. 🤍

Subscribe now

How to work with me

If you’re currently in the void — or feel a stirring that something needs to shift — this is exactly the work I do with clients.

We slow down together. We bring the body into the conversation. We make space for what needs to be grieved, felt and processed before rushing toward what’s next. And slowly, gently, we start to build the kind of self-trust and inner clarity for your next chapter..

Offering

EMBODIED CONFIDENCE — my 4 month 1:1 somatic coaching container for women navigating matrescence, midlife or career change. We meet twice a month for deep, body-led coaching sessions plus monthly somatic movement work and voice note support between sessions.

—> Book a discovery call

Love, Anouk x

Anouk is a somatic coach for women in the messy middle — navigating matrescence, midlife or career change — who are ready to come back to themselves and feel alive again. Find out more here.

I recently quit sugar for 4 weeks. I noticed I was not only having my usual dark chocolate which I looove, but also grabbing sweet treats at random times and I wanted to cleanse my system of some of the processed rubbish and break the bad habits. At first, I felt like something was missing and every time I felt a bit sad or stressed, I found it hard not to reach for my usual sweet treat. But after a while, I got used to it, and 4 weeks turned into 6 weeks and now I don’t even crave it anymore. That’s a new experience for me.

I’m not planning on living a sugar-free life, but I want to change my relationship to it and really savour it when I do. Drink it in, take my time, let it melt in my mouth. I know instantly what I will make. A chocolate mousse lovingly made from scratch with the best ingredients. It’s a long process of separating egg yolks from egg whites, beating the egg whites into stiff peaks with sugar, beating some cream with egg yolks, melting the chocolate with a little butter in a bain-marie and then carefully mixing it all together. Then you let it sit in the fridge for 5 hours. It’s a tease, it’s slow, there’s anticipation. I find it best enjoyed slowly one little bite at a time… Here’s the recipe.

Pleasure, not the quick fix treats or thrills, but true bone deep pleasure often gets sidelined in our busy lives. There’s no time to slow down enough or make space for it. There are responsibilities, loved ones to care for, endless work demands, domestic jobs to do. We fantasise about our upcoming weekend away or summer holidays when we’ll finally stop and relax. One day, someday soon we can relax and slow down. In the meantime, we are running from one task to the other, shallow breathing, sleeping badly, easily irritated, often resentful. When we live in automatic overdrive in our daily lives, our nervous system is frazzled. It won’t easily switch to a relaxed state like it’s designed to do. That’s why even holidays don’t feel relaxing.

Subscribe now

Building our capacity for pleasure (and aliveness)

So how can we build up our capacity for pleasure, for slowness so we can access it more easily? This is an integral part of my work as a somatic coach. My clients often tell me that they feel completely disconnected from their bodies. They are at the mercy of ‘busyness’ but desperately desire more space, more creativity, more aliveness. By sidelining pleasure and relaxation, we lose sensitivity to our bodies and to our life force. We end up living from the neck up.

In client sessions, we rebuild the relationship with sensation in your body, noticing the subtle intricacies of how your body is reacting to things, allowing and safely processing emotions that may have been suppressed, taking the time to stop and reflect. Little by little your body wakes up and you feel more, you experience more pleasure, more joy, more sensation. You’ll also feel the sadness, the grief, the anger. By allowing the whole body to come online again, we can experience the full spectrum of life. We allow the ‘good girl’ conditioning of pleasing, productivity, caring, putting yourself last to fall away.

I believe that building the capacity for pleasure in our modern world doesn’t need to be grandiose. It can be experienced in smaller pockets of time. I invite you to get curious about what ignites pleasure for you, the kind that you feel from the inside out. Is it immersing yourself in water? Is it sitting in the sun and slowly sipping your coffee? Is it adorning your space with flowers and candles? Is it dressing up in your favourite outfit and putting on make-up, even on a WFH day? Is it having a sweet afternoon nap? Is it moving your body to your favourite music? Is it self-touch or massage with a little oil?

By making space for these tiny moments of pleasure, you’re communicating to your body that you are worthy of being treated with care and attention. You’re remembering what lights you up, what makes you feel satisfied, that you can feel soft and not always adrenaline-fuelled. You’re bringing that summer holiday feeling into your daily life - that slow languid hot lazy relaxed feeling.

Pleasure is a radical act of self-care

The complete antidote to stress and feeling frazzled is pleasure and joy. We need it more than ever in this complex world we’re living in. It’s a radical act of self-care. February was an amazing month for my business and I promised myself I would take myself out for lunch to celebrate. And let me tell you how much I’ve procrastinated with this! The weather isn’t nice enough, I feel too tired, I don’t want to spend the money, I’m too busy… It should be something joyful to look forward to so why is it so hard to put my own damn pleasure and joy first? Last week I finally gave myself that gift and it felt really special. It took me out of my everyday life and time slowed completely. Responsibilities fell away. I felt inspired and new ideas were emerging. That’s the beautiful side effect of allowing pleasure - your inspiration, your creativity, your aliveness returns.

Bell Hooks models it so beautifully in this passage from the essay ‘Women Artists: The Creative Process’:

Esther Perel talks about this devotion to make space for slowness, beauty and pleasure as Everyday Eroticism. It leads to feeling more sensual, more connected to ourselves and others and more turned on by life. How can we prioritise this as much as we prioritise the doing, the lists, the responsibilities? To rehydrate our whole being, help us feel alive, melt away our tension and just enjoy because isn’t that what life is all about?

I would LOVE to hear how this lands for you. x

Subscribe now

Creative and Somatic Coaching

If you’re wanting to reconnect to sensation in your body to reignite creativity, inspiration and sensuality, I’ve got 2 spots open for 1:1 coaching and I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a line or book a discovery call here.

Love, Anouk x

Anouk is a somatic life and career coach supporting exhausted creative women who are ready to get their spark back and take meaningful steps towards a life that feels more like them. Find out more here.

The practices of Morning Pages (3 pages of ‘brain dump’ journaling first thing in the morning) and Artist Dates (solo outings or activities that inspire you) just make sense. I currently dip in and out of morning pages and sometimes set a timer for 10 mins rather than needing to fill 3 pages. I try and keep Fridays as a ‘me’ day or at the very least do something fun and enjoyable that day (sometimes it’s going to the sauna with a friend, or buying the artisan goat cheese + sourdough I love for my lunch, or sometimes it’s cycling to another neighbourhood in London and pottering around).

That is a creative life for me.

Even though I don’t consider myself ‘an artist’ - I don’t paint, draw, make music etc - I do feel like I try to approach life as an artist of sorts. In how I run my business, how I parent, how I approach my long-term relationship, how I garden, how I sing and dance with my girls, how I cook, how I enjoy being cooked for, how I nurture my friendships, how I write, how I travel. When I think of life and work this way, it brings me a lot more joy and satisfaction. Less output or goal focused, and more savouring the here and now.

That is a creative life for me.

To be an artist or a creative, you have to take risks. You are often doing something new or different, something that is uniquely your flavour. Putting yourself and your art out there is scary and confronting. I’ve learned that relating to the spirals, the emotional ups and downs and the uncertainty is probably the most important part of living a creative life. There is no path, no certainty, not much security. But oh is it rewarding when something, however small, falls into place or blossoms. When I think back to my days working in a ‘comfortable’ full time job, I felt so trapped and unhappy - always looking for a way out. I’ve always dreamt of working for myself, dreaming something up that’s just mine, connecting with people in my unique way.

That is a creative life for me.

I used to see life and work as more linear, that there were certain steps to make you happy or fulfilled, that you had to follow a set of rules to make it in life, eg. Earn x salary, get married and have kids, buy the house, then the next house, maybe have a little weekend pad, go on the nice holidays, etc. Of course we need a baseline of security and stability and none of these things are bad. But these things alone don’t bring satisfaction. What lights me up these days is much more about what creative dreams you have, where you’d love to travel, what weird hobby you want to try, how you want to feel more sensual in your body etc. I see life less as a series of milestones and more as experiments - trying new and different things, meeting interesting people, making some of my dreams a reality.

That is a creative life for me.

We have a choice whether we are open to life’s experiences, ups and downs, grief, joys, sadness or whether we try to tightly control life, stay ‘safe’ at all costs. While I sometimes still go down the controlling route to try and keep myself safe (we all do!), I choose to be open to life, take risks and move through the highs and lows. You feel more this way and it can be painful and uncomfortable, but ultimately so much more beautiful.

That is a creative life for me.

For me it’s about simply being more you, being weird and wonderful like no one else can be.

It’s a bit messy, a bit chaotic, like a winding road with lots of turns and stops along the way. But it’s colourful, it’s alive, it’s dynamic, it’s worth exploring.

What does a creative life mean for you? I’d love to know.

A Creative Life Group Container

I’m running a 5 week online group programme for creative women kicking off on 27 February called A Creative Life. DM me for more info or see details here.

This 5 week container is a soft place to land - to feel held, seen and heard. It will support you to plant seeds and gain ground on something you’re wanting more of in 2026 - it could simply be how you want to feel - or a side project, an idea, a business, a creative pursuit.

You will be held by your coach facilitator (me), a community of like-minded women and a set of curated somatic and coaching practices. The container will enable you to move out of the familiar loops of overthinking into more creativity and sustainable ways of being and doing.

Check out the full details below or DM me if you have any questions. I’d love for you to join.

Love Anouk x

Check out the group programme

Anouk is a somatic life and career coach supporting exhausted creative women who are ready to get their spark back and take meaningful steps towards a life that feels more like them. Find out more here.

A few years ago, while juggling a full-time role and two young kids, feeling increasingly misaligned at work, I knew I had to “let go” more. Yes, I was carrying a lot of responsibility - but what felt heaviest wasn’t the logistics. It was the tension in my body. The difficult emotions. The backlog of anger and frustration I’d been holding without realising it.

It reached a point that was no longer sustainable. That’s when I left my job and became a self-employed coach. I needed to re-assess, come back to myself — and yes, learn to let go.

If you’re someone who prides yourself on being a doer, a completer-finisher, an initiator, an empath — letting go doesn’t come naturally. I’m the organiser of playdates, reunions, holidays, bills, builders. I plan. I care. I hold it all.
But at what cost?

I felt exhausted and frazzled, and it simply stopped working. I knew I needed more of the elusive qualities we often call feminine energy: flow, receptivity, openness, intuition. I just didn’t know where to start.

I tried many things - acupuncture, EMDR, yoga nidra, flow dance, talking therapy, IFS, embodiment coaching - all with the hope of feeling lighter, calmer, more energised. They helped, and some are still part of my world. But the real shift wasn’t dramatic or instant. It was slow, subtle and steady.

Subscribe now

For me, letting go has looked like leaning back slightly.
Pausing before the automatic action.
Not replying immediately because, actually, it’s not urgent.
Asking my partner to take on tasks I can do quickly, but don’t need to.
Honouring seasons: fewer plans in winter, more rest when I’m run down.
Treating rest/stillness with the same importance as exercise or socialising.

This isn’t about dropping everything, wearing silk robes, and eating grapes all day — although a little of that is welcome 💃.
It’s about how you move through your day.

Do you approach tasks with urgency? Panic? Impatience?
Do you feel clenched? Tense?
Is your breath shallow, stuck high in your chest?

Sometimes, dropping your shoulders or taking one long, slow exhale is enough to realise: this isn’t as urgent as it feels. The tasks will still get done. You’re allowed to soften. And when you do, you have a bit more space for feeling inspired, creative and expressive.

One practice I often share with clients is to slow down a single daily task — making coffee, walking to the loo — and really notice each movement. It sounds simple, almost too simple. But it sends a powerful message to your nervous system: it’s safe to take your time. From there, this way of being starts to ripple outward - into conversations, decisions, moments of conflict.

One of my greatest lessons has been learning to sit with things.
To not know.
To stay with uncertainty without immediately trying to fix it.

It still challenges me. But I’ve also seen what happens when I make space for not knowing: unexpected things arrive. Support appears. Possibilities I couldn’t have planned for. There’s space for intuition and inspiration to grow. All of my good ideas come to me in times of stillness of slowness - the shower, my morning walk, meditation, slow sensual movement, a bath . Stillness creates space to receive.

Being open to receive is a deeply feminine quality.
And when I say feminine, I don’t mean gender. We all carry feminine and masculine energies, and it’s the careful balance of the two that matters.

This is how I’ve learned to let go a little.

In the dark depths of January, would it serve you to let go a little? I’d love to know - send me a reply or a DM and I’ll get back to you.

Subscribe now

If you feel a quiet yes in your body as you read this, I’ve created a short somatic self-coaching practice to help you soften, listen inwards, and find your next step - without forcing or fixing. Check it out here.

Here’s my ‘letting go’ playlist - enjoy the melting.

I have a couple of spots open for 1:1 coaching starting in February - if you feel called to explore, book a call here or just hit reply.

Anouk is a somatic life and career coach supporting exhausted creative women who are ready to get their spark back . Find out more here.

It’s both the thing that fills me with awe and the thing that can undo me.

The way I feel flooded with love when I’m fully present with my kids.
The way a walk through the forest can feel like a wondrous feast for my senses.
The way synchronicities seem to shimmer everywhere when I’m open and attuned.

But it can also be heavy, like carrying too much.
Feeling the pain of others as though it’s my own.
Getting overstimulated by the noise, the light, the emotions swirling around me.
My body reacting loudly to the smallest shifts. It gets real.

Do you relate?

The world we live in isn’t built for sensitive beings.
It rewards speed, output, achievement.
And so, we learn to adapt - to toughen up, to push through, to quiet what’s tender.
To meet the world’s pace even when it grates against our natural rhythm.

But at what cost?

When you suppress your sensitivity, you also suppress your magic -
your creativity, your intuition, your sensuality, your connection to life itself.

That was me for most of my adult life.
Always striving, achieving, ticking boxes - new jobs, promotions, milestones -
hoping the next thing would bring peace, belonging, meaning.
The whisper was always there under the surface though: slow down, look inwards.

It turns out that when you start to allow the sensitivity in and dial it up, it becomes a portal - to clarity, power and creative life force.

The journey towards reclaiming my sensitivity has meant unlearning the old ways including saying no when something doesn’t serve me, protecting my energy and starting my days with presence and magnetism rather than my to-do list or emails.

A few simple ways you can water the roots of your sensitivity and let your aliveness flow:

• Start your day with something, anything, lights you up, that softens you, that inspires you. For some, it might be a walk in nature. For others it might be reading a few pages from a book or moving/swaying your body to music you love.

  The point is: try not to start your day with logistics, phones, emails, to-do list. That kicks your left brain into gear as well as the anxiety, worrying and ‘not-enoughness’. The same goes for the end of the day.

• Free-write for five minutes (or longer). Set a timer. Let your hand move. It doesn’t need to make sense - you can rip it up afterwards.

• Stop and smell the flowers. Literally. Notice beauty and let yourself receive it — savour, enjoy, allow it in.

• Create small altars around your home. Autumn leaves, a flower, a candle, some shells, some sweet smelling oil — reminders of your sensuality, of nature, of what’s sacred and beautiful to you.

Dialling up your sensitivity is a long game. It’s not a quick-fix formula. But oh, is it worth it.

Your clarity sharpens.
Your creativity expands.
Your pleasure deepens.
Your aliveness returns.

How does being sensitive sound now?

Many of my clients are deeply feeling, sensitive women.
Instead of rushing for quick results (which never last), we build nervous system capacity — by softening, slowing down, and learning to move toward your dreams with grace, not force.

When your sensitivity is nurtured, it becomes your power source.
Your magnetism.
Your art.
Your way back to yourself.

I’d love to hear from you if this post resonates and I’ll make sure to respond:)

If you’re curious about working with me, my 4 month coaching container is currently open and I’d love to find out where you’re at and how I can help you dial up your sensitivity, inner confidence and aliveness to take steps towards your vision.

Book a call here

What’s moved me lately

• Podcast episode how feelings only last 90 seconds (start at 13 min)

• Under feeling / over thinking

• My current fave: rose oil

• Any Studio Ghibli film - so much beauty and sensitivity. Watched Arrietty yesterday with the girls.

Anouk is a coach that helps big-hearted ambitious women reclaim their creative life force so they can take bold steps towards their desires. Find out more here.

It was late 2019. I was standing on the edge of a huge decision: whether to leave my safe, stable corporate job. I had two little girls, aged 2 and 6.

On a coaching call, a peer asked me: “Close your eyes and connect to your body.”

And I felt… nothing.

I didn’t know what she meant. My entire life was lived from the neck up, rushing through responsibilities, making decisions by logic alone, holding myself together in constant high-alert mode. Even the idea of slowing down, closing my eyes, and tuning into my body’s sensations and inner knowings felt impossible. Foreign. Unsafe (And yes, I was probably multi-tasking on the call, too).

Since then, I’ve been on a transformative journey back into my body, back into my own wisdom, intuition, and aliveness. So much so that it’s now the heart of the work I do with clients.

So what does listening to your body actually mean?

At its core, it’s a homecoming. A return to the truest version of you.

It’s peeling away the noise: the outdated beliefs, the unsolicited advice, the heavy weight of expectations. It’s learning to notice the subtle tugs and gut feelings, even when they’re inconvenient, uncool, or not what the world expects of you.

Think of someone you know who radiates authenticity. Someone who you admire, or maybe even find a little intimidating, because they’re just so unapologetically themselves. They follow their inner compass. They say no when they mean no. They make bold choices, stand tall in their truth, and express themselves fully.

So how do you actually get into your body?

For me, it starts with carving out a little sacred space: closing the door, putting on some slow, moody music (here’s a playlist I love), and asking my body how it wants to move, what it needs at this moment. Sometimes that looks like lying completely still on the floor, letting myself sink into the ground. Other times it’s rolling, swaying, undulating, letting my body lead instead of my mind. And in that space, emotions I’ve been holding beneath the surface often rise: frustration, sadness, tenderness, even joy. It’s being present with what is instead of rushing to fix or distract.

Another simple practice is a body scan. Moving slowly in my awareness from my toes all the way up to my head, naming each part as I go. Where do I feel soft? Where do I feel tight? Where is energy flowing, and where is it stuck?

—-

Here are a few ways I’ve learned to listen to my body (after a lifetime of pushing through and being the “easy-going one”):

Social plans - I check in with my body first. Is it a full-body yes or a no? Sometimes I need to sit with it. Recently, I skipped a camping trip after a summer of travel and instead had a quiet weekend at home with my youngest. The relief I felt told me I’d made the right call. (Old me would’ve pushed through and been ruled by FOMO.)

Movement and exercise - In the world of wellness and fitness, there are so many should’s, so many perceived rules of what you should be doing (especially a woman in her 40’s). I’ve tried more rigid routines but I’ve come to realise that what my body needs looks different. I know I want to move every day, stay agile and strong. But how I move changes. Some days it’s a long walk in fresh air. Other days it’s lifting weights, rolling out my mat for yoga or Pilates (I’m currently LOVING Kara Duval’s Range platform), or simply stretching and moving in a way that feels fluid and nourishing. It’s not about following someone else’s formula. It’s about asking: What does my body crave today?

Work - Right now, self-employment feels aligned. Yes, it’s uncertain, but the sense of freedom, creativity, and possibility lights me up in a way my corporate job never did. That caged-in feeling was my body saying no more. Now, when I make decisions in my business, I don’t just look at the “should’s” or “could’s.” I tune into my body. Does this feel light, expansive, like the right kind of fear - the kind that stretches me? Or does it feel tight, draining, like a contraction?

That distinction changes everything. It helps me put my energy where it matters most: in the projects, people, and ideas that actually feel alive.

I’d love to know if any of this resonates. Drop me a message and I’ll reply:)

How do I work with the body in my coaching practice?

Every session begins with a short grounding meditation - a chance to drop out of the busy mind, release some of the surface-level stress we all carry, and arrive fully present. From there, we set a clear intention for the session, so you know exactly what we’re working toward.

As we move through the coaching process, I’ll often invite you to close your eyes and tune into your body, noticing how it’s experiencing the challenge or desire we’re exploring. This somatic approach allows us to bypass the constant loops of the mind and access deeper layers of truth, wisdom, and possibility.

It’s not about “thinking harder” but about listening differently. Your body holds information, insights, and clarity that the rational mind alone can’t always reach and when we bring those pieces together, that’s where the real breakthroughs happen.

—--

✨ How I work

Through my 1:1 coaching, I help women come back home to themselves — out of the swirl of overthinking and self-doubt, and into grounded confidence, clarity, and self-trust. Together, we untangle the conditioning that tells you to shrink, soften your inner critic, and reconnect you to your voice, your body, and your own knowing.

If you’re feeling stuck in self-doubt, procrastinating on the things you know matter, second-guessing your choices, or struggling to speak up at work (or in life), this is the work that shifts everything.

I’d love to invite you to a free discovery call, a chance for us to connect, explore what you’re moving through, and see whether this support feels like the right fit for you. You can book your spot here.

Anouk is a confidence and self-worth coach based in East London, UK. She helps deep feelers and overthinkers lead with more trust, ease and embodied confidence. Find out more here.

It might be parenting your kids.
It might be starting your own business.
It might be stepping up at work..
It might be starting a new project.

You feel ready-ish. You’ve got the ball rolling, you’ve taken the initial steps and dipped your toes in. So far, so good. There’s excitement in the newness. Ideas are flowing. You project yourself into the future and visualise all it could become. This part is fun and motivating.

But then you’re in it - and fear and doubt start creeping in.
Can I even do this?
Am I qualified? Am I good enough?
Will I be judged?
Maybe I should just give up (unless you’re a parent, where that’s not on the menu).

Here’s the thing:
Every single time we launch ourselves into something new or step up into our ‘stretch zone’—out of our comfort zone—the voices of our inner critic and self-doubt make themselves heard, loud and clear. These parts of us are feeling unsafe and don’t love the unfamiliar. They don’t want to stick out, fail or slip up.

And if we push too far, too fast, we can end up in the panic zone—where everything feels overwhelming, and the nervous system goes into shutdown or overdrive. That’s not where growth happens.

It took me a long time to realise this is completely normal and part of the journey.

I’ve always loved change—trying new things, taking risks, experiencing life in all its fullness. I’ve changed careers and jobs many times, moved homes and countries, immersed myself in new learning and training.

But I haven’t always been good at soothing and comforting myself when those inner critic voices inevitably piped up. I would ignore them and push through, try to fix or solve rather than acknowledge and sit with them.
Looking back, I think part of my urge to keep moving was to escape that discomfort. Starting over was easier than staying with the hard feelings.

Right now, I’m in a season of growth and expansion in my career.
I’m making myself more visible, working on my business sustainability—and it’s confronting.

I swing between feeling really excited and expansive… and waves of self-doubt and exhaustion.

But now I know:
✨ This is part of it.
✨ I have tools to be with the fear, rather than letting it derail me.
✨ I no longer need to reinvent everything just to feel safe again.

Here’s what I’ve learned about sitting with the discomfort of the inner critic:

• If I ignore or push through, it always gets louder in the end.

• That self-doubt voice? It never fully disappears—even for the most successful CEO.

• What changes is how I relate to it. I’ve learned to say, “I see you’re scared. That’s okay. But we can do this—gently, step by step.”

• I double down on self-care and pleasure in times of growth: walks, movement, nourishing food, creative time, seeing friends, resting, dancing. These keep me resourced enough to do hard things.

• I honour my limits. Timing matters. You might have a one-year-old who needs you constantly, or be mid house move. Circumstances won’t ever be perfect—but some seasons are better than others.
  

I’ve also learned to come back to my body

This has changed everything.

When fear hijacks my mind, I ask myself:
Where is it showing up in my body? Tight jaw? Fluttery chest? Shallow breath?

And then I come back.
I feel my feet on the ground.
I soften my belly.
I take a deep breath and remind myself: Right now, I am safe.

Coming back to your body helps you stay rooted and present—even when your inner world feels chaotic.
When you build trust with your body, confidence stops being a performance and becomes something you embody.

Elizabeth Gilbert shares a beautiful metaphor in her book Big Magic:

Fear doesn’t get to drive. But it’s allowed to come along for the ride.

She imagines creativity and change like a road trip. Fear is always in the car—you can’t kick it out. It’s just not allowed to grab the wheel or shout directions. It must sit quietly in the back seat.

You don’t have to be fearless to be brave. You just have to stop letting fear lead.

Most importantly:
I trust now that I’ve done hard things before—and I will get through this season too.
Would you rather stay stuck in the familiar—or feel alive in your growth and evolution?

If it’s the latter, it’s time to gently befriend the inner critic—that voice that’s scared, sharp or mean.

Talk to it like a small child learning something new:

“I see you’re scared. But I’m here. We’re doing this together. I believe in you.”

And then show it—with rest, support, movement, connection—that you are safe.
That you are held.
That you’ve got this.

Because you do.
And what’s on the other side is the kind of expansion and inner power that’s alive, juicy, grounded, and sustainable.

I’d love to know if any of this resonates or if you’re moving through a period of change and expansion. Just hit reply and I’ll come back to you!

Want support to move through this with more ease and trust?

If you’re navigating self-doubt, feeling stretched, and craving more confidence and clarity as you grow, you don’t have to do it alone.

In my 1:1 coaching, we work gently but powerfully to help you reconnect with your self-trust, regulate your nervous system, and build the inner safety to expand without spiralling.

This is for you if you’re ready to stop overriding your needs and start moving forward in a way that feels grounded, embodied, and true.

✨ If this speaks to you, I’d love to invite you to book a free 30-minute call to explore what support could look like.

Anouk is a confidence and self-worth coach. She helps deep feelers and overthinkers lead with more trust, ease and embodied confidence. Find out more here.

Sculpture by Andrew DeVries

Some days, I feel off, tired, low. And when I do, my first thought is:
“This is so inconvenient.”
"I’m going to fall behind."
Or: “Why do I feel like this? How do I FIX it?”

Do I need more supplements? A better night time routine? More exercise? Less screen time?

It’s like I’m expecting my body and mind to be a constant, predictable machine—always energised, positive, productive.
And honestly, those are the messages we see daily:
Regulate. Optimise. Fix.

But here’s what I’m slowly realising (still):
We’re not meant to be steady all the time.
We’re deeply feeling, dynamic beings. And yes, that can be deeply inconvenient.

Sadness, anger, grief, fear—these are all part of being alive. But instead of letting them move through us, we suppress, distract, numb, scroll. Then wonder why we feel anxious or disconnected.

If you observe young kids, they are always feeling and expressing. They cry when they’re sad. Yell when something feels unfair. Laugh with their whole bodies when they’re happy.
Their emotions move through them—unfiltered, raw, real.

But many of us were taught—subtly or loudly—that emotions should be hidden, managed, tucked away. Especially in public. Especially the "messy" ones.

So it makes sense we now find our feelings so… inconvenient.

But here’s the truth:
There are plenty of reasons to feel emotional.
The state of the world. Our painful past. Hormonal ups and downs. Relationships. A difficult boss. The highs and lows of running your own business (that’s me!) The sheer complexity of being human.
And sometimes there’s no reason at all—we’re just having a shit day.

We don’t always need to find a reason and look to solve it.
Sometimes, we just need to feel it.

So what if—just for ten minutes, or an hour, or an afternoon—you let yourself fall apart a little?

Could you let yourself cry? Stomp? Shake with rage or grief or tenderness?

Personally, I put on moody music (film soundtracks like Dune or anything by Hans Zimmer or Max Richter do the trick), close the door, roll out my yoga mat, and move like I feel. There’s no “right” way. It’s internal.
I let what’s under the surface rise. I make sounds. I cry. I release.

And afterwards?
I feel lighter.
More alive.
Less tight.
More clear.

In my coaching practice, this is part of the work.
We don’t just focus on the efficient, productive, get-it-done version of you.
We work with all of you.
The part that’s overwhelmed.
The part that’s tired.
The part that wants more but doesn’t know how.

Some days in coaching are about deep processing and emotional unwinding.
Others are about expansion, desire, clarity.
We move at the pace of your body, your capacity. We build safety and self-trust. Slowly. Sustainably.

Not with pressure, but with presence.
Not with performance, but with deep listening.

Because real growth doesn’t come from pushing harder.
It comes from honouring your cycles, your feelings, your truth—moment by moment.

Can you let yourself fall apart—just a little?
Not to break down. But to break open.
To clear the noise.
To come home to yourself.

If this sounds interesting or you’re curious to know more, I’m offering free 30 min discovery calls. Let’s talk!

Anouk is a confidence and self-worth coach. She helps big-hearted ambitious women move from self-doubt and people-pleasing to grounded confidence and aligned careers. Find out more here.

In 2019, the first signs of burnout crept in—persistent colds, a dry cough that wouldn’t go away, constant tension in my left shoulder no matter how many osteopath visits, and a short fuse. Still, I kept pushing through, juggling my job at Google, family life, and a relentless drive to do more. It wasn’t even that my job was unreasonably demanding, it was more that I put so much pressure on myself - being reliably responsive, being on top of it all, anticipating people’s needs, carrying the mental load at home, being the planner, still trying to live the life I had pre-children.

I remember feeling so overwhelmed with what was on my plate but still making plans for my next career as a coach. With hindsight, I now know that rule 101 of feeling overwhelmed is simplifying, taking things off your plate, taking each day as it comes. Then came the brain fog, decision paralysis, insomnia, heart palpitations, and a heaviness I couldn’t shake.

I was all doing

By then, I had quit my demanding job, moved into a new home, was raising my two young daughters, and training to become a coach. I remember sitting in one of the coaching lectures and learning about the balance between Doing and Being—how crucial it is to just be without always chasing an outcome. The realisation hit hard: I was all doing, and it was breaking me. The burnout deepened into panic attacks, and suddenly, my world shrank. I found myself on the sofa, barely functioning, trapped between exhaustion and self-judgment, unsure of what came next.

I had no choice but to finally listen. That was the beginning of my journey back to myself—learning to trust my instincts again, feel safe in my body, and rediscover joy. It was a slow, winding path: visits to the GP, trying and not getting much out of CBT, then came deep work with an incredible therapist, releasing and awakening through free-flow dance, relearning how to play, and embracing stillness. Little by little, as my body felt safe again, I could start doing—but this time, from a place of ease, not exhaustion. With a sensitive nervous system, this isn’t a destination—it’s a lifelong practice.

Teetering on the edge of burnout

I used to think burnout only happened to people in extreme circumstances. But now, I see it everywhere. Not necessarily full collapse, but the slow, creeping signs—headaches, decision fatigue, restlessness.

So what do you do when your body starts sending signals that something needs to change?

In my experience, there are two key approaches:

1. Immediate Reset: Soothing techniques to bring your nervous system back to balance (or ventral vagal)—calming breathing techniques, time with people who truly nourish you, reconnecting with nature, movement that feels good, downtime, creativity. For a deep dive into the magic of the nervous system, head here.

   • These are key at all times but are known to fall by the wayside when life is just too busy

2. Deep Transformation: Getting to the root of what’s driving the symptoms of burnout—whether it’s people-pleasing, lack of boundaries, or relentless self-pressure—by working with a therapist or coach. In my coaching, we begin with real-life challenges at work or home, safely process the emotions beneath them, uncover deep-seated patterns, and gradually rewire them. This isn’t just about coping—it’s about lasting transformation.

The key is not just recovering but reshaping the way you move through the world—so burnout stops being a cycle and starts being a thing of the past.

Am I grateful for this journey? In a way, yes. It’s made me a better coach, deepened my appreciation for life’s fragility, and taught me not to take ease for granted. But burnout isn’t a rite of passage—life brings enough challenges without having to hit rock bottom to learn these lessons.

My top tip for anyone feeling burnout creeping in is to make time for activities that have no purpose other than enjoyment. Watching my 7-year-old, who spends her time drawing, singing, and dancing simply because she enjoys it, reminds me of how important it is to step away from productivity. When we give ourselves permission to do things just for the sake of it, we recharge and create the space to handle life’s demands with more energy and clarity. A former client recently emailed me to say she’d rediscovered the joy of creating just for herself—no pressure, no purpose, just fun. The result? A renewed sense of inspiration, a deeper love for life, and, unexpectedly, more confidence at work.

Where are you at right now? Does any of this feel familiar? I’d love to hear—hit reply and let me know. And if you’re curious about working together, I offer a free 30-minute discovery call to explore how we can bring you back to balance.

With love, Anouk x