05/19/2026
Does the body keep the score?
I see this debated often in different circles, and honestly, I think many people get lost somewhere between the science and the human experience of living inside a body. What we can measure and what we can feel are not always enemies. Sometimes they are simply different languages describing the same thing.
So I wanted to share some of my own thoughts on it, not as absolute truth, but as reflections gathered from years of working with people, listening to bodies, studying the science, and simply being human myself.
The body adapts around survival in the same way a tree grows around the wind.
If the wind blows hard enough for long enough, the tree cannot help but change because of it. The trunk bends. The roots reach deeper into the earth. Branches twist themselves toward whatever light and safety they can still find. Not because it is broken, but because survival asks living things to bend toward whatever safety they can find.
I think people are much the same.
The nervous system is always listening. To love. To fear. To chaos. To tenderness. It determines whether the world feels safe or unpredictable. And over time, the body quietly shapes itself around those experiences.
As I have said before, I do not think fascia holds heartbreak like a photograph hidden inside tissue. But I do think it can hold the shape your body took while your heart was breaking. Not as a literal memory trapped in muscle, but as patterns the nervous system repeated so many times, the body adapted around them.
Neuroscience gives us one language for this. It talks about autonomic states, conditioned responses, neuroception, and nervous system regulation. Eastern traditions may describe heaviness in the heart center, tightness in the throat, or blocked energy within the body. Personally, I do not think those ideas need to fight each other all the time. Sometimes, symbolic language helps people finally describe experiences they have felt for years but never knew how to explain.
And after enough time, survival patterns can start to feel like identity. Like personality. Like “this is just who I am.”
But I do not think the body should be blamed for the ways it learned to survive.
And maybe healing is not about forcing the tree to stand straight again.
Maybe it is about finally finding an environment gentle enough that the body no longer feels the need to keep growing around the storm.