My Journey With Chakras (and Why I Believe in This Work)

I never set out to become a “chakra person.” In fact, I resisted it for a long time. But over the years, through trauma, healing, and some truly wild life experiences, chakra work became less of an interest and more of a lifeline.

Even now, I’m still on the journey. My sacral chakra, for instance, is something I continue to work with daily. It’s not fixed, it’s not “done.” Healing, for me, has been a spiral,  revisiting the same themes in deeper and deeper ways.

And I want to share a little bit of why chakra work became the medicine I didn’t know I needed.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I had what’s called an “exit procedure.” It’s technically a c-section, but a specialized one. They opened me, then closed me around my baby’s head so she could be intubated safely before being fully birthed. It was a complicated, careful process, and it left its mark on both of us.

A lot of people assume I lost feeling in my stomach because of the procedure. But really, the numbness started earlier. Around seven months, when my daughter was growing rapidly, the skin and fascia of my belly stretched so fast that they tore. I still remember rubbing my stomach and realizing it felt different, numb, almost foreign.

And truthfully, that numbness wasn’t just physical. At that time, I was in a relationship that looked fine on the surface. We laughed, we had fun, we were “best friends.” But underneath, I wasn’t fully happy. I was trusting the process, not myself. My sacral center, the seat of feeling, pleasure, and creation, was already asking me to pay attention.

Over time, I realized that it wasn’t just my sacral chakra that needed love.

• Root chakra: shaken by childhood trauma, sexual abuse, and injuries to my body that left lasting imprints.

• Solar plexus: weakened from years of eating foods that didn’t serve me, and constantly doubting my gut instincts.

• Throat chakra: silenced, because I never really spoke up for myself and often felt misunderstood.

• Heart chakra: twisted by betrayals, loss, and the ripple effect of other imbalances.

• Third eye & crown: clouded by constant self-criticism, negative thoughts, and disconnection from my body.

And honestly, it’s never just one chakra. If one block is there, it stacks on the others like a shaky Jenga tower. Eventually, the tower wobbles and falls, what some people would call a “tower moment.” I’ve had more than one. But the biggest came in my late 20s, around my Saturn return. My body literally revolted. I got sick. My solar plexus demanded: pay attention now.

That was when I dove headfirst into learning. At first, it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was because I felt like I had to.

I started exploring Kundalini practices. I read Healing Love Through the Tao. I found YouTube teachers like Astral Doorway and Glorian, who gave me tools to breathe, observe, and move energy. I studied chakra vowels, single sounds that vibrate each center, and began to experience what it meant to be in my body.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t instant. It was messy, awkward, confusing. But piece by piece, I started to reconnect with myself.

And I realized that through creativity, writing, teaching, making, I was also healing. Creation itself became medicine for my sacral chakra.

 

Here’s what I know now:

• Healing is never “done.” It’s lifelong.

• Even misaligned chakras are still working for us. They just send signs and signals when we’re not listening.

• Trauma isn’t just in the past, it lives in the body. But the body also holds the wisdom to heal.

• Tools are everywhere and many are free. The question is, are we ready to use them?

I don’t just want this to be about me. Healing is personal, but it’s also collective. That’s why I’m creating space for community exploration.

After our chakra activation event in October, I’ll be opening up virtual options, free tools, guided sessions, maybe even watch parties of some of the very YouTube playlists that helped me.

Think of it as a “chakra club.” Once a week, we’ll watch a video together, learn about a specific chakra, and have space to talk (or just listen). Seven weeks, seven chakras. No pressure, no expectations, just a chance to tune in together.

Because that’s really what this is about: tuning in. To our bodies, to our energy, to each other.

So if you’re reading this and you feel like you’re “crazy,” or broken, or you’re just trying everything to feel better and chakras keep showing up on your path, maybe this is your nudge.

Stay tuned. Literally.

Mariam