When the body does not feel safe

I completed an elemental diet in February to finally address a stubborn SIBO (small bacterial intestinal overgrowth). At the same time I launched Detox of Becoming, began seeing clients at HOME, and documented parts of the diet experience publicly as part of a social media course.

It was a lot for one nervous system.

The elemental diet itself was extremely demanding. For two weeks my body received all its nutrition through a formula of sugar (!), olive oil, and amino acids, designed to starve the bacteria that had overgrown in my small intestine.

Whether it worked physiologically remains to be seen. I’m still on a low-FODMAP diet with antibacterials to continue my journey.

But the experience was far more stressful than I had realised while I was inside it. I only understood this afterwards.

For nearly two weeks following the return to normal eating I found myself drawn compulsively to chocolate and high calorie foods. Not in the occasional celebratory way. In a way that felt urgent, compelling, pretty uncontrollable.

At first I could not quite understand it.

I had lost over 2kg in the process. A rebound appetite after restriction is normal. The body often tries to replenish energy stores and rebalance blood sugar after a period of limited intake.

But this felt deeper than simple metabolic correction.

Something in my system was trying to reassure itself.

Cravings mean so much

This is also why what appears to be a food issue is so often not resolved by focusing on food alone. If we only try to control the eating behaviour, we may miss the intelligence underneath it.

A craving, a compulsion, a binge, a loss of control… these are often not failures of discipline, but signals from the body that something deeper is driving the behaviour.

Fear. Deprivation. Loneliness. Overwhelm. Survival stress. Old memory.

This is where awareness becomes essential. Not to analyse ourselves endlessly, but to get curious enough to peel back the layer underneath.

What is this behaviour trying to do for me? What is it protecting me from feeling? What is it asking me to understand?

This is something we address in depth in my Detox of Becoming programme. There is a whole mindset module co-developed with NLP and hypnotherapy practitioner, Sandrine Fuentes, a dear friend who has also dedicated her life to healing and awakening.

This mindset work is devoted to cravings and the deeper patterns beneath them, so that we are not only trying to control behaviour, but learning how to understand it, listen to it, and gently release it.

When survival memory awakens 

So, one morning in my meditation, I asked this quiet question: What is this crazy craving really about?

The answer did not arrive as a thought but as a wave of feelings. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I began sobbing in a way that felt ancient and visceral.

What had been activated in my system was not simply hunger. It was terror.

Terror of starvation.

Some years ago I discovered something about my family history that shaped me more deeply than I realised. My Dutch grandparents spent five years in a Japanese concentration camp in Indonesia during the Second World War.

They starved. And although they survived (my grandfather only weighed 32kg for 190cm when they were released), they watched many family members, including children, die of starvation.

And the body remembers these things because trauma becomes engraved in your DNA.

Research into famine and trauma shows that severe deprivation can leave epigenetic traces in how our stress response and metabolism operate. These patterns can echo across generations.

When my body experienced the intense hunger stress of the elemental diet, something ancient seemed to awaken.

A survival memory. And immeasurable grief.

Suddenly the binge eating made sense.

My body was not lacking discipline. It was trying to ensure survival: fill the cupboards, store energy, never be hungry again - and eat to numb the fear.

Seen through that lens, the behaviour becomes intelligent.

My nervous system was protecting me.

Allowing the release

When the insight finally came, I did not try to stop the emotion. I let the tears come and made more space for them.

The sobbing. The trembling. The deep release that sometimes moves through the body when something hidden becomes visible.

Then I spoke quietly to my ancestors. Not ceremonially. Simply from the heart. I told them I understood what they had endured. And that the fear of starvation they carried does not need to live inside my body now.

Then I oriented to what is true in the present moment:

The refrigerator that is always full.
The cupboards filled with grains, seeds and spices.
The herbs growing on my balcony.
The warm bath available whenever I turn the tap.
The soft bedding that holds me each night.

Abundance is everywhere when I allow myself to see it.

Yes, the world still contains hardship. But here, now, I am safe.

And the body can slowly learn to trust that feeling.

Why safety matters for healing

Safety is not just emotional. It is biological too.

When the nervous system perceives danger, the body shifts into survival states: fight, flight, freeze.

In these states the body prioritises immediate protection over long term repair:

  • Digestion becomes less efficient.

  • Hormones and neurotransmitters can become dysregulated.

  • Immune activity is distorted.

  • Detoxification slows.

  • Reproductive systems quieten.

Even the musculoskeletal system can become vulnerable.

Interestingly, during this same period I injured my lower back during a yoga session, doing nothing particularly fancy. I wasn't practising recklessly. It was just weakened.

From a holistic perspective, the lower back is associated with the root chakra, Muladhara, which governs our sense of safety, stability and grounding in life.

Whether we frame this biologically, psychologically or energetically, the message is similar: my system was asking to feel safe again.

Creating safety in the body

The insight that emerged during meditation followed a simple process you may recognise: RAIN.

  • Recognise what is happening

  • Allow the experience to be present

  • Investigate with curiosity

  • Nurture the body with care

This approach invites the nervous system back into relationship rather than forcing it into control.

Other tools that can support this include:

  • Essential oil - Smell has a uniquely direct relationship with the limbic brain, the part involved in memory, emotion, and threat perception. In other words, scent can reach places that words sometimes cannot. Certain oils can help signal safety to the body, calm the stress response, and support a shift out of hypervigilance. This is one of the reasons I find them so helpful in emotional processing and regulation work. Jodie Cohen from Vibrant Blue Oils speaks beautifully about using scent, and sometimes topical application around vagus nerve pathways, to help the body register that the danger has passed and it is safe to soften again.

  • EFT tapping to release emotional charge

  • EMDR therapy to process unresolved memories

  • EMDR therapy to process unresolved memories

  • Somatic practices that work directly with the nervous system e.g. breathwork, dance, yoga, TRE (shaking)

  • Prayer and meditation

When these practices are approached with the intention of inviting safety into the body, they become deeply healing.

Not because they fix us, but because they remind the nervous system that the danger has passed and we can relax.

This is why our ability to regulate is foundational to our health and wellbeing.

Practice: A safety ritual for moments of inner urgency

When you notice urgency rising in the body, whether around food, fear, or overwhelm, pause for a moment before acting. Not to suppress the urge. Just to create a little space around it.

Place both feet on the floor. One hand on your chest, the other on your ribs or lower back.

Say quietly:
Something in me does not feel safe right now. I am here. I am listening.

Look around and name three signs of present day safety. The warmth of the room. The chair holding you. The food in the kitchen. The lusciousness of nature.

Then offer your body one small act of reassurance. Hugging yourself, a warm drink, a hand on the belly/heart, a few slow breaths, smelling a comforting oil.

The question is not how do I stop this feeling.

The question is how do I help my body feel safe enough that it no longer needs to shout.

This is how the pattern begins to soften. Not through force, but through relationship.