The Jaw, The Chest, The Pelvis: What the Masculine Body Remembers

The Story Beneath the Surface

Lately, I’ve been noticing a particular kind of silence in the men who come to see me.
It’s not the absence of words: it’s the silence beneath them.

A quiet kind of exhaustion.
A jaw that’s learned to stay clenched.
A chest that forgot how to exhale.
A pelvis that’s forgotten how to trust its own power.

These men don’t come looking for performance or fantasy.
They come because, somewhere deep down, their bodies are whispering: I can’t keep holding this.

And when we begin, it’s never just about “relaxation.”
It’s about remembering.

The Jaw: The Gatekeeper of Truth

The jaw is one of the first places the masculine body learns to hide emotion.

It’s the place that holds every “I’m fine” that wasn’t.
Every swallowed cry.
Every truth that was too dangerous to speak.

When the jaw tightens, it’s not random. It’s a survival strategy.
It’s the body saying, “Not now. It’s not safe.”

But what happens when, years later, the body still thinks it’s not safe?
You stop speaking what you feel.
You stop expressing what you need.
And something inside begins to ache for release.

When that jaw finally softens under my fingertips… when a sigh escapes that was years in the making… the room fills with a different kind of silence.
The kind that says, truth has finally been allowed.

The Chest: Where Tenderness Sleeps

This is where love has been both held and lost.
Where grief sleeps under armour.
Where “be strong” built walls around the heart.

The masculine chest carries not just muscle, but memory.

It carries the times you wanted to hold someone and couldn’t.
The moments you wished to cry but were told to “man up.”
The heartbreaks that never got to be fully felt.

But strength doesn’t mean numb.
And a tender chest isn’t weak: it’s awake.

When breath finally begins to move through the heart space, there’s often trembling.
Sometimes laughter.
Sometimes quiet sobbing that sounds almost like prayer.

That’s the heart remembering what it means to feel again.

The Pelvis: The Seat of Power and Shame

So much lives here.

Sexual energy. Shame. Desire.
Power that’s been feared, misused, or buried.

For so many men, the pelvis is both the source of vitality and the place of deep confusion, where pleasure and guilt have become intertwined.

This is where culture told you that wanting is dangerous, that surrender is unmanly, that softness makes you weak.

But this is also where your raw life force lives, the very pulse that connects you to the divine.

When the pelvis begins to breathe again, when movement returns, something profound happens.

Pleasure and presence reunite.
And that reunion, that exhale of truth, is liberation.

These Are Not Just Body Parts

They’re archives of your lived experience.
Places your body stores what your mind couldn’t carry.

When you unclench your jaw, breathe into your chest, move your hips, you’re not just stretching.
You’re reclaiming.

You’re saying yes to being human again.

Embodiment Is Not a Feminine Thing

It’s a human thing.

Men need safe spaces too. To feel, to release, to remember.

Every time a man exhales what he’s been holding, I see something extraordinary.
Not fragility.
But courage.

Because it takes more bravery to surrender than to stay armoured.
It takes strength to soften.

My Lovely Men Out There

You don’t have to hold it all.
You don’t have to heal alone.

Your body knows what it’s ready to let go of.
You just need to listen.

Next time you feel that tightness in your jaw, the restlessness in your chest, the ache in your hips, pause.

Ask your body, “What am I still carrying?”
Then breathe.

Not to fix it.
Just to feel it.

Because that’s where the real healing begins.

The Practice

Find a quiet space.
Unclench your jaw.
Breathe into your chest until you can feel your ribs expand.
Then move your hips: slow, circular, curious.

Don’t chase release.
Just listen.

You might not understand what rises.
You don’t have to.

You’re simply letting your body speak the language it’s always known.

And maybe, just maybe, this time, you’ll stay long enough to hear her answer.

Closing Invitation

If this speaks to you, if your body has been whispering that it’s ready, you’re not alone.

This is the essence of my work: helping you find safety in your own body again, through touch, breath, and presence.

Whether you meet me in Perth, Lisbon, or Paris, our work begins the same way: one breath, one truth, one softening.

You don’t have to fix anything.
You just need to feel what’s real.

If you’ve ever longed to feel truly held, without expectation, without pressure, this is the place.

Your body was designed for connection. Let it remember.

Love,

K xx