Have you ever laughed so hard you peed your pants?

Here’s the thing: I’ve been peeing my pants since I was about 6 years old, and it hasn’t been a laughing matter.

Urinary frequency and incontinence usually isn’t the first thing on a little girls mind. But when the older girl at that wedding yelled out: “I saw you had some pee spots on your underwear!” in front of all the other kids, it replayed in my mind like an alarm clock I couldn’t find the snooze for.

I fell into the trap of “information” such as: “make sure you're doing kegels for good sex!” at only 17 years old and having a “loose” vagina is seriously NOT something to be worrying about.

But I would worry.

I worried that there wouldn’t be enough food in the fridge, enough love to receive, enough time between here and the toilet to make it. Even if the urge to pee wasn’t even present five seconds ago, I was sprinting to the bathroom and sometimes not making it there.

I was afraid that I wasn’t enough.

this is the girl who was riddled with feeling unworthy. I love her.

I was afraid of the shame I would feel if people saw that I had leaked.

Does it show? Do I smell?Maybe I’ll try one more time, just in case.

The first time I received internal pelvic work I went from not being able to go 1 hour→ not needing the restroom for 6+ hours.

Whether you’ve held the record for the largest natural birth, (shout out to my Mema, 12 pounds and 22 inches long, her first birth!) 

Or you’ve been wounded by the lie of scarcity;

Your pelvic bowl is ready to stop holding on for dear life. 

The past week my incontinence has returned in a fullness that brought me to my knees and into the depths of my childhood memories.

I sat with this wisdom, thanking it for showing me the way, and held my tissues in periods of reverence and self treatment—

I held my belly button

my jaw

my vulva

This resulted in deep somatic healing, that is lovingly non-linear. A remembrance and a return to my body; the way she carries the pulse of my life in images, tears and sometimes frustrating signals-like peeing my pants a little. 

I’m now two days clean of incontinence symptoms, my TMJ has dissapeared and most importantly I don’t feel dirty in my own skin.

I know I have the honor and responsibility to keep showing up in these conversations with my body, and I am deeply appreciative to have a collective of bodyworkers to lean on too.

If you are tired of ignoring the call that’s coming from within, I can help you answer it.

archival photo of a little Soule who was only 17 years old, been through the gambit of an abusive relationship and was ready to find herself again.

This is the medicine I want for my sisters. This is the medicine I want for my mother. This is the medicine I want for my grandmothers. This is the medicine FOR YOU, FOR US.