The Healing Barn

25/08/2026

24/08/2026

There’s an old sort of joke about a guy called Gary sitting in the pub, complaining about what people remember him for.

“I built half the shops in town. Does anybody call me Gary the Shop Builder? No. I helped build the school. Does anybody call me Gary the School Builder? Nope. I’ve fixed more houses around here than I can remember, and nobody calls me Gary the Builder either.”

“But you walk home from the pub one bloody night with a traffic cone on your head…”

And suddenly, that’s the Gary everybody remembers.

It’s ridiculous, but there’s something pretty real underneath it. We can do hundreds of things throughout our lives and still allow one mistake, embarrassing moment, failed relationship or decision we regret to become the part of our story that seems to carry far more weight than everything else.

Sometimes other people keep bringing it up, but often they’ve moved on long before we have. We are the ones still defending ourselves against it, trying to explain it away, hoping nobody notices, or working hard to prove that we are no longer the person who did that thing.

The strange part is that the more energy we put into trying to hide something from our past, the more power we can give it. We can end up building a whole version of ourselves around making sure nobody sees the thing we are afraid might define us.

That made me think about Gene Key 59, which moves from Dishonesty, through Intimacy, to Transparency.

Dishonesty doesn’t necessarily have to mean lying to other people. Sometimes it can be much quieter than that. It can be the places where we aren’t completely willing to acknowledge our own story, the things we still struggle to look at without flinching, or the version of ourselves we keep trying to prove because we are afraid of what might happen if people saw the rest.

Transparency doesn’t mean telling everybody everything or pretending that we are proud of every decision we have ever made. Maybe it is simply reaching a place where we can look at our own story and say, “Yep, that happened. I can own it. It still isn’t all of who I am.”

There is something freeing about no longer needing to defend ourselves from our own past. And perhaps that is also where intimacy becomes possible, because it is difficult to let somebody genuinely know us while we are still working so hard to make sure certain parts of us are never seen.

Maybe freedom isn’t convincing everybody that Gary is not the bloke who once wandered home wearing a traffic cone.

Maybe it is Gary finally realising that one stupid night doesn’t get to define the rest of his life.

What part of your story might lose some of its power if you no longer needed to hide from it?

Scott Holdem

23/08/2026

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine.”

But you know you’re not.

You can feel the tightness in your body, the irritation underneath your answers and the part of you that has begun to pull away. Something they said has touched you, and although you may not understand everything beneath your reaction yet, you know there is something there.

But you don’t want to go into it.

Perhaps you don’t want to acknowledge how hurt you feel or admit that their words mattered as much as they did. Maybe you don’t want another conversation, don’t trust yourself to explain it without becoming emotional, or don’t yet feel safe enough to let them see what is happening inside you.

So “I’m fine” becomes a way of closing the door.

It keeps the other person at arm’s length, but it can also keep us from having to be honest with ourselves. If we can dismiss the feeling quickly enough, we don’t have to look at why it hurt, what it seemed to mean or what it might be asking us to acknowledge.

This kind of dishonesty isn’t necessarily about deliberately deceiving someone. Sometimes it is the quiet dishonesty of knowing something is there while trying not to know it too deeply.

But our body often continues to hold what our words are denying. It appears in the distance in our voice, the tension in the room, the sharpness of our responses or the way we withdraw from someone we may actually want to feel close to.

The other person can feel that something has changed, even if they don’t know what it is. They may keep asking, try to work it out for themselves or begin pulling away too. What we hoped would protect us from an uncomfortable conversation can quietly create a much greater distance between us.

Perhaps honesty doesn’t begin with forcing ourselves to tell the other person everything immediately. It may begin privately, in a quiet moment, when we become willing to turn toward what we already know is there.

“That did hurt.”

“I felt unimportant.”

“I’m angry, but there may be something underneath the anger.”

“I said I was fine because I didn’t want you to come any closer.”

There can be something deeply compassionate in allowing ourselves to recognise the truth without immediately judging it, defending it or deciding what we should do about it. We’re simply listening to the information within our reaction instead of continuing to push it away.

This kind of transparency begins within us. It is the willingness to see what is really there—even the feelings, needs and parts of ourselves we would rather hide.

And when we understand a little more, perhaps we can allow the other person closer too. We may not have everything worked out, but we can let them know that something happened inside us and that we need a little time, care or space to understand it.

That honesty doesn’t guarantee an easy conversation or the response we hope for. But it gives the relationship something real to meet. The other person no longer has to search through our silence, and we no longer have to protect ourselves by pretending there is nothing there.

Perhaps intimacy doesn’t begin with having the perfect words. Perhaps it begins when we become willing to be honest with ourselves and, where it feels safe, allow someone else to see a little more of what is true.

Sometimes recognising what is happening is enough to begin a different conversation. At other times, we can understand the pattern and still feel our body taking us straight back into the same defensiveness, silence, guilt or tension.

If there is one situation where this keeps happening for you, this is something we can explore together through three personalised Emotion & Belief sessions. We’ll work with the emotional experiences and beliefs behind the response, helping you feel less taken over by it and more able to respond as yourself—even when the situation around you hasn’t changed.

You can find out more about the three-session package here: https://app.acuityscheduling.com/catalog.php?owner=30195420&category=Three+session+Emotion+%26+Belief+Package://app.acuityscheduling.com/catalog.php?

21/08/2026

Sometimes the resentment isn’t only about what someone asked of us. It can also be about the fact that we said yes before we had even included ourselves in the decision.

Perhaps you felt the tightening in your body or knew you were already carrying enough. But “No, I can’t do that today” didn’t feel available. Saying yes seemed easier than disappointing them, explaining yourself or sitting with the possibility that they might think differently of you.

So you agreed, added one more thing to the list and carried on. Then later, when they asked whether it was done, the anger or resentment rose. Part of you blamed them for asking, while another part felt guilty because you had said yes.

It can be easy to judge that response. Yet it may be showing you that something within you wasn’t included in the yes.

Knowing you need better boundaries doesn’t always change this. If your body still understands saying no as unsafe, selfish or likely to create conflict, you can know what you want to say and still find yourself agreeing before you’ve had time to think.

This is one example of a real-life situation you could begin with. It doesn’t have to be about saying yes. It may be any one situation that regularly leaves you angry, defensive, guilty, overwhelmed or unable to say what you need.

Across three personalised Emotion & Belief Sessions, we’ll start with that one situation and explore the emotional experiences and beliefs shaping your response. We’ll become curious about what your body has connected the moment to, why the response formed and what may be keeping it in place—following what emerges from there.

The aim isn’t to teach you a better response to perform next time. As what sits underneath begins to change, there can be less of an internal battle and more space for something different to come naturally—even when the situation around you hasn’t changed.

You don’t need to understand where it began or unravel every part of your life before you start.

One real-life situation.
Three personalised Emotion & Belief Sessions.
Less reactivity. More choice.

Begin with one situation: [https://app.acuityscheduling.com/catalog.php?owner=30195420&action=addCart&clear=1&id=1708642]

20/08/2026

Sometimes having time for yourself does not feel peaceful. It can actually bring up guilt, restlessness, or the feeling that you should be doing something more useful.

You might finally get a quiet moment, but instead of enjoying it, your mind starts listing everything that still needs doing. The jobs. The people. The responsibilities. The things you have not finished yet.

For a lot of people, this is not really about the free time. It is about the pattern underneath it — the part of you that learned rest has to be earned, or that your needs come after everyone else’s.

This is the kind of pattern I work with in coaching sessions. Not just trying to force yourself to relax, but understanding why relaxing can feel so hard in the first place.

Scott
The Healing Barn

19/08/2026

When three fish were enough

There’s a story about a fisherman who went out each day in his little boat and caught three fish.

Three fish were enough.

He had what he needed, came home, and was happy.

Then someone came along and suggested that if he put a motor on the boat, he could catch six fish, sell the extra three, and eventually the motor would pay for itself.

Sounded sensible enough.

Then came the bigger boat. More fish. More money. More opportunity.

Before long, the little boat had become a large trawler. There were employees, wages, maintenance, bigger bills and a whole lot more responsibility.

From the outside, he had become far more successful.

But somewhere along the way, he had stopped being happy.

The strange thing is, he had already had enough when he was catching three fish.

I think we can do this in our own lives without really noticing.

We tell ourselves, I’ll be happy when I earn more. When the business gets bigger. When I buy that thing. When I finally achieve that goal. Then I’ll relax.

But “enough” has a habit of moving as soon as we get there.

And sometimes the life we end up chasing wasn’t even our idea to begin with.

Someone else told us what success was supposed to look like, and we just kept following the next step.

So maybe the question isn’t always, “How do I get more?”

Maybe it’s:

What is actually enough for me?

And perhaps an even bigger one:

Is the life I’m working so hard to build actually the life I want, or is it somebody else’s idea of what a successful life should look like?

Scott Holdem
The Healing Barn

18/08/2026

Someone asks, “Can you just…?”

You already have several things competing for your attention, and you can feel a slight tightening somewhere inside you. But before you’ve really checked what you have the time or capacity for, you hear yourself saying, “Yes, that’s fine.”

Perhaps it is only a small thing. It seems easier to do it than explain why you can’t, risk disappointing them or have them think you’re unwilling to help. So you add it to the list and carry on.

Later, they ask whether you managed to get it done. Suddenly, the irritation that you pushed aside earlier rises much more strongly.

You may feel angry that they’re asking when you already have so much to do. You might think they should be able to see how much you’re carrying, or wonder why it always seems to be you who has to keep everything moving. Yet alongside that anger, there can also be guilt—because you said yes, and now part of you feels responsible for following through.

It can appear as though the problem is simply that other people expect too much from us. And sometimes that may be true. But there can also be something quieter happening underneath: commitments we’ve been living by for so long that we no longer recognise them as commitments.

*I won’t let anyone down.*

*I’ll keep everything together.*

*I’ll make sure everyone else is okay.*

*My needs can wait.*

These may not be promises we consciously chose. They can form through the experiences and beliefs that taught us how to remain safe, valued or connected to other people. Saying yes may have helped us avoid criticism, conflict or the discomfort of somebody being disappointed with us.

Over time, we can become deeply committed to a way of living that leaves very little room for us.

Then we judge the resentment, anger or exhaustion that eventually appears. We tell ourselves we should be more giving, more patient or better at managing everything we agreed to. Yet perhaps those reactions are also part of the language of our body—letting us know that something within us wasn’t fully included in the yes.

And I don’t think the answer is always to become firmer or force ourselves to say no. If our body still understands saying no as unsafe, selfish or likely to upset someone, we can know exactly what we *should* say and still find the words unavailable when we need them.

But when the emotional experiences and beliefs underneath that response begin to change, there can be less of an internal battle. A genuine yes can come with more of us in it. And when something isn’t ours to carry, “I can’t do that today” may become naturally available without the same guilt, explaining or resentment.

Perhaps commitment isn’t only about following through on everything we’ve said yes to. It may also be about becoming curious about which commitments genuinely belong to us—and which ones were formed by a part of us trying not to disappoint, upset or lose connection with someone else.

Perhaps one situation came to mind as you were reading—one where you keep saying yes, carrying too much or feeling taken over by the anger, resentment or guilt that follows. You don’t have to understand every commitment you’ve been living by. That one real-life situation is enough of a place to start.

Across three personalised Emotion & Belief Sessions, we’ll work with the emotional experiences and beliefs shaping your response, helping you feel less taken over and allowing something different to come more naturally.

**One real-life situation. Three personalised sessions. Less reactivity and more choice.**

Begin with one situation: [https://app.acuityscheduling.com/catalog.php?owner=30195420&action=addCart&clear=1&id=1708642]

Melissa Holdem 🥰

17/08/2026

Are you chasing it or attracting it?

There’s a big difference between a connection that seems to happen naturally and one that you feel like you have to keep pushing along.

You probably know the feeling. You’re asking the questions, keeping the conversation going, suggesting the next catch-up and trying to work out what the other person is thinking. The more they pull back, the more effort you seem to put in.

At some point, it can be useful to stop trying harder and simply notice what is happening.

Because sometimes the interesting part isn’t whether the other person likes you enough.

It’s why their lack of interest makes you want to chase harder.

There can be something underneath that says, If I can get them to choose me, want me, approve of me or finally see what I have to offer, then I’ll feel differently about myself.

And that pattern doesn’t only show up in dating. We can chase friendships, clients, recognition, approval, opportunities and people who continually give us very little back.

There’s another side to this too.

Getting to the point where you can say, “I’m actually happy on my own” can be incredibly freeing, particularly if you’ve spent years needing connection to feel okay.

But even that is worth being curious about.

“I don’t need anybody” can be freedom. And sometimes it can be protection.

Neither one is wrong. The useful part is becoming aware of what is actually driving it.

This is the kind of work I do at The Healing Barn. We don’t start by trying to make the other person behave differently. We slow things down and look underneath the reaction — at what is pulling you towards something, what you’re hoping to get from it, and why this particular situation has such a strong hold on you.

Because when you can see what you’re actually chasing, you may discover it was never really about them.

Where in your life are you putting in far more energy than you are getting back?

This is the kind of work I do — helping people understand the pattern underneath the thing they keep getting caught in.

Scott Holdem
The Healing Barn

16/08/2026

It’s near the end of a long day and you’ve finally sat down. You’ve spent most of the day carrying a list in your head—remembering what needed doing, making sure other people had what they needed and fitting in the things nobody else necessarily knew you were doing.

Then someone asks, “Did you remember to…?”

You pause, mentally searching through the day, and realise you didn’t. Perhaps you hear a slight change in their voice or see the disappointment move across their face. They may not say anything particularly harsh, but in that moment something inside you drops.

Before you’ve had time to think, you hear yourself explaining. You begin listing everything else you’ve done, all the things that got in the way and why this one thing was missed. Your words come out sharper than you intended because, somewhere beneath them, it suddenly feels as though everything you did remember has disappeared and all they can see is the one thing you didn’t.

Then you notice their reaction to your reaction, and now guilt begins arriving alongside the defensiveness. Part of you still wants them to understand how much you’ve been carrying, while another part wishes you could take the whole conversation back. You may keep talking, become angry or suddenly go quiet because you can no longer find the words for what is actually happening inside you.

The moment eventually passes, but your body doesn’t move on quite so quickly. Later, you find yourself replaying it and wondering why that one comment had so much power. You know they only asked about something you forgot—but inside you, it didn’t feel like that was all they were asking.

It can be easy to settle on the explanation that they’re always nagging, they never appreciate what you do or they shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. And sometimes there may be truth in that. Perhaps your effort is often overlooked, or the way they spoke wasn’t fair.

Understanding what happened inside you doesn’t mean dismissing any of that. It simply invites us to become curious about why this particular moment had the power to take us over so quickly.

Because our body doesn’t only hear the words being spoken. It also notices tone, facial expression, the pause before somebody answers and the feeling that arrives between us. It receives all of that information through a lens shaped by other moments in which getting something wrong, disappointing someone or not meeting an expectation may have carried a much deeper meaning.

Perhaps the question didn’t only land as, “Did you remember to do this?” Somewhere within you, it may have landed as, “You’ve failed again,” “Nothing you do is ever enough,” “They can’t see how hard you’re trying,” or “You’re responsible for making their disappointment go away.”

Suddenly, the intensity of the response begins to make a little more sense.

The defensiveness may be trying to make sure the whole of your effort doesn’t disappear behind one mistake. Anger may be creating protection around a part of you that feels unseen, criticised or powerless. Going quiet may have once been the safest way to stop a difficult situation from becoming worse, while guilt may pull you back towards making peace before you’ve had a chance to understand what you need.

When we only see the reaction, it can look like the problem. We tell ourselves we need to be less sensitive, stop becoming defensive or learn how to stay calm. Yet our reactions can also be part of the language of our body—information about what the moment meant to us, what it touched and what our body believed it needed to protect us from.

Understanding this doesn’t mean deciding that every reaction is helpful or that we’re no longer responsible for what we do. It doesn’t mean the other person was right or wrong, either. It simply changes the question from, “What is wrong with me?” to, “What did my body understand was happening here?”

Perhaps this is where a little self-forgiveness can begin. Not the kind that excuses what happened or says it doesn’t matter, but the kind that recognises our response didn’t appear from nowhere. There may be emotions, experiences and beliefs sitting beneath it that we’ve never had the opportunity or understanding to look at.

And when those begin to change, we don’t necessarily have to force ourselves to react differently next time. We may simply find that the same words no longer carry quite so much weight. We can acknowledge the thing we missed without feeling as though all our effort has been erased, hear someone’s disappointment without immediately becoming responsible for fixing it, or recognise when something genuinely isn’t okay without being completely taken over by the response.

Perhaps, as you were reading, one situation came to mind—one where you regularly feel pulled into a response you don’t fully understand. You don’t have to know where it began or unravel every part of your life. That one real-life situation is enough of a place to start.

Across three personalised Emotion & Belief Sessions, we’ll work with the emotional experiences and beliefs shaping that response, helping you feel less taken over when it happens and allowing something different to come more naturally.

One real-life situation. Three personalised sessions. Less reactivity and more choice.

Begin with one situation: [https://app.acuityscheduling.com/catalog.php?owner=30195420&action=addCart&clear=1&id=1708642]

Melissa Holdem 🥰