How your body shapes your story

Story follows state

Have you ever noticed how the way you interpret your life can shift depending on how you're feeling in your body?

One moment, you might feel hopeful—like you’re making progress, like things might actually be okay. And then, without warning, a wave of anxiety or heaviness washes over you, and suddenly the story changes. Everything feels harder. You feel behind. You start wondering if you're just too much or not enough.

That shift isn't random.
It's not a sign you're broken.
It's your nervous system doing exactly what it was designed to do.

Let’s talk about state

In somatic and trauma-informed therapy, we use the word state to describe the condition of your nervous system. Are you feeling grounded? Activated? Frozen? Calm? Hyper-alert? Numb? Your state shapes the lens through which you see the world—how you interpret events, how safe other people feel, even how you view yourself.

Your body is constantly scanning for cues of safety or threat. And depending on what it senses—often below the level of conscious awareness—it shifts into different states to try to protect you.

And here’s the important part:
Your thoughts—your story—will follow that state.

“Story Follows State” — What Does That Mean?

It means that when your nervous system is regulated and you feel safe enough, your thoughts are often more compassionate, clear, and connected. You might think things like:

“I’m doing my best.”
“This is hard, but I can get through it.”
“I can do this.”

But when your nervous system is dysregulated—when you're in a fight, flight, freeze, or fawn state—your story tends to shift, sometimes dramatically. You might find yourself thinking:

“I’m failing.”
“I’m not worth it.”
“No one cares.”

It’s not that these stories are false or made up. They’re just being told from a place of survival. And when we’re in survival mode, everything tends to feel more dangerous, more personal, more permanent.

It’s Not All in Your Head—It’s in Your Body, Too

Understanding that story follows state helps us move away from judging our thoughts and toward curiosity. Instead of spiraling into shame or trying to “think positive,” we can pause and gently ask:

“What’s happening in my body right now?”
“Am I feeling grounded or overwhelmed?”
“What might this part of me be trying to protect?”

This shift brings in compassion. Instead of arguing with the story or forcing a different one, we can tend to the state beneath it.

Maybe that looks like slowing down your breath, placing a hand on your heart, or orienting to the room around you. Maybe it means recognizing an anxious part that needs reassurance. Maybe it's just saying, “No wonder I’m feeling this way.”

From there, the story often begins to soften—without forcing it to.

What This Means for Therapy

In our work together, we don’t just talk about your story—we notice how your system is holding it. We check in with your body. We make space for the parts of you that might be stuck in older states of fear, urgency, or collapse. And we move slowly, with permission.

Because when we help your nervous system feel safer, your story naturally begins to change. Not because you’re rewriting your past—but because you're finally experiencing your present differently.

And that’s where healing can live.

Final Thought

The stories we tell ourselves are powerful—but they are not fixed. They are shaped by the state of our body, our nervous system, and our internal parts in any given moment.

So if your story feels heavy right now, don’t rush to change it.
Instead, offer your body some care. Notice the state you’re in.
And let’s explore this process together.

Warmly,

Abbey