There’s a moment I see in almost every session — and I’ve lived it in my own body too. It’s the tug-of-war between two primary human needs: our need for connection and our need for autonomy.
We’re taught that these needs are opposites. Either we merge and risk losing ourselves, or we stand alone and risk losing love. But what if that isn’t true? What if the path to deeper connection actually begins with sovereignty — and what if sovereignty itself is only fully realized through connection?
This is the heart of my work as a somatic therapist and Core Energetics practitioner in Washington DC: guiding people to feel what’s happening inside their bodies, where those two needs collide, and helping them discover a third way — one where we can be both sovereign and deeply connected.
Needs begin in the body
When we’re in the womb, we have no needs. Everything is provided. But once we’re born, life becomes a series of needs — food, warmth, regulation, love. And very early on, we learn strategies to get those needs met.
A baby who cries and isn’t immediately fed learns something powerful: if loud expression doesn’t bring comfort, maybe silence will. This is the beginning of what Core Energetics calls the mask — the adaptive layer of personality we create to stay in connection and survive. It’s not bad; in fact, it’s brilliant. But the mask flattens our life force, dulls our aliveness, and hides the deeper truths living underneath.
Beneath the mask is the lower self — the primal “No” that wants to protect sovereignty at all costs. Beneath that is the higher self — the unified field of love, creativity, wisdom, and joy. Most self-help books speak to the higher self, but you can’t think your way there. You have to feel your way there — through the body.
Life force and pleasure
When energy moves freely through the body, we feel pleasure. Pleasure isn’t frivolous — it’s the natural state of a flowing life force. When that energy is blocked, we feel tension, numbness, collapse. Much of somatic therapy is about learning to sense and follow this flow, so we can access the deeper parts of ourselves — creativity, intuition, empathy, power.
And that means we have to feel — especially the feelings we’d rather avoid. Trauma, after all, is a pattern of tension created to keep us from feeling something that once felt unbearable. The body tightens to protect us, but that protection can last decades, even lifetimes, cutting us off from joy, connection, and possibility.
A client story: longing for connection, needing sovereignty
One client told me that being in a relationship is what makes him feel most alive. “Great,” I said. “Let’s practice aliveness now.” We stood up, stomped, and moved. But instead of energy rising, his body wanted to collapse.
When I asked about that, he said, “I just want to fall on the couch and do nothing. I feel small and helpless.”
The mind was longing for connection. The body was begging for sovereignty — rest, space, self-nourishment. And here’s the truth: no one wants to be in relationship with a collapsed person. Until he honored what his body was truly saying, any connection he entered would come from depletion rather than fullness.
This is why working with the body matters. Our cognitive stories often point in one direction, while our somatic reality tells a deeper truth.

Emotions as messengers
When a need isn’t met, a feeling arises. Core Energetics works with four primary emotions: anger, sadness, fear, and joy. These are hardwired into us — even babies recognize them on their caregivers’ faces. How we respond to those emotions in ourselves and others becomes the blueprint for how we relate.
If my anger wasn’t welcomed as a child, I may shut down or lash out when anger arises now. If sadness felt unsafe, I might rush to fix it instead of allowing it. But emotions are not enemies — they’re messages from the body about where our needs are being met or thwarted. Joy says, “This is working.” Anger says, “A boundary’s been crossed.” Sadness says, “Something matters.” Fear says, “Something here needs care.”
When we refuse these messages — because they feel dangerous, or because we were taught not to have them — we invest enormous life force in keeping them down. That energy could be fueling creativity, connection, and love.
The anxious–avoidant dance
This dynamic shows up vividly in what’s often called the anxious–avoidant trap. One partner grasps for closeness (“Don’t leave me!”), the other pulls away (“I need space!”). On the surface, they look opposite. Underneath, both are protecting themselves from the same fear: that their needs won’t be met.
Often (though not always), this maps onto gendered conditioning: the “feminine” energy seeks connection; the “masculine” guards freedom. But this isn’t about identity — it’s about energy polarity. And both defenses block the vulnerability required for intimacy.
The way out isn’t convincing the other to change. It’s doing our own work — staying present with our sensations, tolerating the discomfort, and letting the body guide us to a response instead of a reaction. When one person raises their frequency, the old pattern can’t keep looping. Either the relationship evolves, or it dissolves — and either way, you grow.

Want vs. need: the 80/20 rule
Here’s a simple practice: when you’re triggered, assume 20% is about now and 80% is about then.
Maybe you’re furious the trash wasn’t taken out. The trash is real (20%), but the depth of your rage may come from an old wound about not being supported (80%). If you follow the emotion down — beyond the mask, beyond the blame — you’ll likely find a younger part of you still aching to be met. That’s the work.
The third way
Autonomy and connection aren’t opposites. They’re partners in the same dance. When I strengthen my sovereignty, I become more available for deep connection. When I cultivate true connection, I feel safe enough to be fully myself.
Real relationships — with partners, friends, family, or community — are built not on strategies or masks but on the courage to feel. The courage to stand still in the body’s “No.” The courage to stay with the pounding heart of “Yes.” The courage to say, “I’m terrified,” and breathe anyway.
That is the work I guide people through every day in my somatic therapy and Core Energetics practice here in Washington DC: learning to feel again, so we can live again. And from that aliveness, to love — without losing ourselves.