Reclaiming our skins; coming home to our bodies

The Selkie's call: A myth that speaks to us all

I was eight when I first saw them. Sleek, dark bodies gliding through the choppy waters off Scotland's west coast. Seals. But were they really just seals?

The Selkie stories I'd grown up with in Northern Ireland came to mind. In these old Celtic tales, Selkies are magical beings - female seals who can shed their skins to become human on land. Often, their skins would be stolen by fishermen, trapping them in human form, longing for their true home in the sea.

“What if, like the Selkies, we all had hidden selves yearning to break free?”

I didn't have the words for it then. But something about those stories struck a chord deep within me. They whispered of secrets, of hidden truths, of a wildness suppressed. Of women forced to hide their true nature, to exist in a world that wasn't really theirs.

It would be years before I understood why these tales resonated so deeply with me. Years before I realised that, in many ways, we are all living our own Selkie stories - regardless of our background or experiences.

My journey began in Northern Ireland, but the themes of suppression, rediscovery, and healing are universal. Wherever you grew up, and wherever your challenges come from - childhood, family, society, work, relationships - if you've ever felt disconnected from your true self, this story might resonate with you.

Trapped on land: Growing up in Northern Ireland

The crappy plastic chairs of our Presbyterian church squeaked as we fidgeted, uncomfortable in more ways than one. Our Sunday school teacher, his face pinched with misplaced righteousness, droned on about the dangers that apparently lurked in our own bodies.

"Girls," he’d say, his voice sharp as a knife, "if you get pregnant, it'll be your fault." The weight of shame and fear settled on our young shoulders like a heavy cloak.

This wasn't education. It was control, wrapped in the guise of protection.

I'd sit there, questions burning in my throat. Why were our bodies treated like ticking time bombs? Why was the burden of purity placed solely on us?

But like obedient Selkies stripped of our skins, we stayed silent. We learned to hide our true selves, to suppress our natural curiosity and joy. We were taught that our very existence could lead others astray.

Outside the church, the world wasn't much kinder. Tight jeans and wild curls were met with disapproving stares. "Neat and tidy," they'd say, "that's how a proper girl should look." But inside, I longed to let my wild curly hair flow free, to dance with the wind like the Selkies in the sea.

It wasn't just me. I saw it in my Mum’s eyes when she'd stare out the window, lost in thought. I felt it in my Nana’s hands as she kneaded bread, her dreams worked into each loaf. We were all Selkies, longing for our true skins, our authentic selves hidden beneath layers of "shoulds" and "musts".

The body remembers: Chronic pain and suppressed emotions

Years passed, but the weight of those Sunday school lessons, the disapproving stares, the unasked questions - they all stayed with me. Like a Selkie without her skin, I felt incomplete, disconnected from my true self.

And my body? It remembered everything.

The pain started slowly. A twinge here, an ache there. Nothing too alarming at first. But like the tide coming in, it grew, becoming impossible to ignore.

Endometriosis. Fibromyalgia. The doctors rattled off these labels, but they felt hollow. How could they explain the deep, gnawing ache that went beyond just physical pain?

"It's all in your head," some said. But they were wrong. It wasn't in my head - it was in my bones, my muscles, my very cells. Years of suppressed emotions, of hiding my true nature, of being told my body was a source of shame rather than power - it all manifested as anxiety, depression and chronic pain.

“I was a Selkie, trapped on land, my body crying out for the freedom of the sea.”

Finding my skin: The healing journey begins

The first time I held a drum in my hands, something shifted. The steady beat resonated through my body, speaking to a part of me I'd long forgotten. It was like finding my Selkie skin after years of searching.

With each drum journey, layers of pain and trauma began to peel away. The drum spoke to my cells, reminding them of their innate wisdom. It was a language older than words, a healing force as ancient as the sea.

I discovered sound therapy, somatic practices, and something unexpected - a deep reconnection to my Celtic roots. The very heritage I'd once been eager to escape became a source of strength and healing. My Nana's words echoed in my mind: "Don't let anyone tell you you're not Irish."

“What was once a source of confusion in a divided land now became a gentle current, drawing me back to my body, to nature, to my true self.”

As I immersed myself in these healing practices, I was reminded of my studies in medieval history. Years ago, I'd researched women healers of the Middle Ages for my research degree. These wise women, often viewed with suspicion and oppressed by the powers of their time, held invaluable knowledge of herbs, sound, and the body's innate wisdom.

In a way, I felt like I was reclaiming not just my own skin, but a long-lost heritage of women's healing wisdom. From the Celtic seers to the medieval herbalists, to my own grandmother's intuitive knowledge – it was all connected, a continuous thread of understanding passed down through generations.

One story in particular came to mind: that of Hildegard of Bingen, a 12th-century Benedictine abbess. Despite the constraints of her time, Hildegard composed ethereal music for healing, wrote about natural medicine, and honoured the divine feminine in nature. Her legacy whispered to me across the centuries, reinforcing to me the power of sound, of women's wisdom, of our connection to the earth.

These somatic practices; they were keys unlocking doors I didn't even know existed within me. For the first time in years, I felt the fog of chronic pain, anxiety and depression lifting. I was reclaiming my true nature, my authentic self.

Calling all Selkies: An invitation to heal

But this journey wasn't just about me. As I healed, I realised how many other women were like me - Selkies longing to reclaim their skins, to remember who they truly are beneath years of societal conditioning and trauma.

This workshop, taking place over three Saturdays, is an invitation - a call to all the women who've felt trapped, silenced, or disconnected from their true selves.

“This workshop isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you’ve always been - vibrant, powerful, and wholly yourself.”

Reclaiming Our Skins: A Journey of Healing and Rediscovery

If you've ever felt:

• Overwhelmed by chronic pain or illness, searching for holistic approaches to healing

• Disconnected from your body and intuition due to stress or past experiences

• Ready to explore your inner strength and resilience through ancient wisdom

• Eager to break free from societal expectations and reconnect with your authentic self

• Curious about using sound, movement, and Celtic traditions for emotional well-being

...then "Reclaiming Our Skins" is for you.

A recent sound healing journey journey at the Mount Without

Through sound healing, Celtic wisdom, and gentle somatic practices, we'll:

• Explore techniques to manage chronic pain and stress

• Reconnect with our bodies' innate wisdom

• Release old traumas and limiting beliefs

• Access our inner healer

• Create a supportive community of like-minded women

Whether you're newly diagnosed, on a long-term healing journey, or simply seeking a deeper connection to yourself, this workshop offers a warm space to explore, heal, and grow.

“Are you ready to reclaim your skin and rediscover your true self?”

Join us for "Reclaiming Our Skins" - November 23, 30 & December 7

Space is limited to ensure an intimate and supportive environment.