The body that’s always holding
I notice it most when I’m with men.
Men who are strong, capable and reliable. Men who have learned how to carry a lot.
And their bodies tell the truth before their words do.
There’s a slight tightening in the chest.
A holding in the breath.
A kind of readiness… like they’re waiting for something to go wrong.
Not always obvious. But it’s there. That quiet pressure to get it right.
To stay connected.
To not disappoint.
To not lose control.
And it doesn’t come from nowhere. The body learns this. Slowly.
Through moments where it didn’t feel safe to relax.
Through times where connection felt uncertain.
Through years of being the one who holds everything together.
So the body adapts.
It braces.
It anticipates.
It performs.
How the body learns to perform
It’s not something most people decide consciously. It just happens.
At some point, the body realises that being present isn’t always enough. So it starts doing more.
Trying more.
Thinking more.
Holding more.
Trying to stay ahead of whatever might come.
And over time…feeling gets replaced by managing.
Connection gets replaced by effort.
Desire becomes something you try to keep up with instead of something you listen to.
And it’s exhausting. Even if you don’t always notice it.
What begins to change
What I’ve been noticing lately… in myself as well. Is that the shift doesn’t come from trying harder. It doesn’t come from focusing more or learning another technique. It comes in small moments.
Moments where something in the body realises it doesn’t have to hold so tightly.
Maybe it’s a deeper breath that happens on its own.
Maybe it’s the chest softening slightly.
Maybe it’s just a moment where nothing is being controlled.
And there’s a different kind of feeling there.
Not intense. Not overwhelming.
Just… more space.
Tantra massage in Perth and the experience of softening
In a tantra massage setting in Perth, this is often the first thing I notice.
Not what someone says but how their body arrives.
Sometimes it arrives guarded.
Sometimes alert.
Sometimes quietly tired.
And there’s no need to change that. There’s nothing to fix.
The body doesn’t respond well to pressure, even when that pressure is subtle.
It responds to safety. To slowness and to presence.
To being met without needing to become something else first. And slowly…
the breath changes,
the muscles soften,
the body remembers something it hasn’t felt in a while.
That it doesn’t have to perform.
That it doesn’t have to manage every moment.
That it can just be there.
Feeling instead of managing
There’s a moment that sometimes happens.
It’s small. But it’s clear.
The moment where someone stops trying to get it right.
You can feel it in the body.
The effort drops, even just slightly. And something else comes in.
Not more intensity. Just… more honest.
More real sensation.
More real presence.
It’s not something you create. It’s something that appears when the holding eases.
You don’t need to get it right
This is something I’m still learning too.
The way I used to give so much and trying to be everything. Trying to meet every need.
And underneath that…there was also holding.
Now it feels different.
Not because I’ve figured something out. But because there’s less trying.
Less pressure to be anything other than what’s here.
And maybe that’s the part that matters.
Not becoming better.Not performing more.
Just noticing…
where you’re still holding and what it feels like when you don’t.
