The Space Between Standing Out and Fitting In

Breathwork, risk and the quiet return to self

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wrestled with the tension between standing out and fitting in. It’s a thread that’s run through every part of my life: culturally, professionally and even within my own family. In the spaces I’ve inhabited, I’ve often felt like an outsider looking in, trying to decode what it would take to belong.

This was never more apparent than during the difficult years of my son’s childhood illness, where I had to navigate a world of medical trauma, cultural differences and the silent undercurrent of trying to keep everything together,  to prove I was enough, that I could handle it all.

Before all this, I’ve often felt like a third-culture mother living in a context that doesn’t fully reflect the values or rhythms I carry inside.  Like I couldn’t find a cultural mirror, even in my closest surroundings. I watched my children move through British systems that didn’t ever feel like home to me. And yet, I chose them:  lovingly, consciously. I often felt the quiet ache of difference. Not quite Venezuelan, Indian, American, or British. That lack of clear cultural belonging has shaped how I see everything:  identity, healing, inclusion.

Grounding myself

Professionally, too, I’ve lived in systems that reward fitting in: the polished exterior, clear expression and articulation, the academic accolades, echoes from colleagues of the need to be seen as a “legitimate authority.” My years of work as a coach and consultant taught me how to speak that language, how to be admired for my capacity and competence. But breathwork and somatic work, invited me into a different conversation entirely. One that had nothing to do with status or external proof.

Breathwork was a risk. A new terrain that felt less founded in the frameworks I’d relied on, and more rooted in the body’s own knowing. It asked me to let go of control, to resist the need to perform and to feel what I’d been trained to override.

In those first breathwork sessions, whether with my daughter Anees, or during my training, I felt the discomfort of letting go. Of no longer needing to fit in. Of no longer needing to stand out. Just 'being' human.

I often begin my deeper breathwork journeys with quiet intentions that feel like anchors:
“I am safe to be my full self.”
“I am worthy of being seen and appreciated.”

These affirmations are more than words. They’re invitations. They help me rewire the inner narratives that have been reinforced by years of feeling like I didn’t belong in American schooling, in homogenous environments, even within friendship circles and family contexts. They remind me that belonging isn’t something I have to earn.

A Story from the Body

There’s an Irani client I once worked with who struggled profoundly with expressing herself. Even in safe spaces, her voice would tighten, her sentences would trail off, and her body would constrict around her throat, as if decades of silencing were lodged there. She often second-guessed her insights, even when they were grounded in deep wisdom.

Breathwork session

As we worked together, it became clear that this went beyond her ability to communicate. It related to personal identity. To a need for permission. To subtle sources of power.

We began to focus on the throat as an energetic and somatic portal,  a bridge between her internal truth and its external expression. I guided her into breathwork that specifically activated the throat space, paired with verbal affirmations like:

“My voice matters.”
“I am safe to speak my truth.”
“I honour the wisdom that lives within me.”

At first, the words felt foreign, aspirational even, rather than real. But her body listened. And breath by breath, her nervous system began to respond and creatively adjust. The tension around her throat softened. Her chest opened. Her voice, once tentative, became steady. Resonant.

Breathwork Session

As she reclaimed her voice, she began to honour herself - in meetings, in relationships and most importantly, in her own inner dialogue. The way those around her saw and experienced her shifted.

Working somatically with the throat centre showed her (and reminded me) that expression isn’t just about speaking. It’s about being willing to be seen. And heard. And respected, first by yourself, then by the world around you.

To find out more about breathwork in group sessions or 1:1 check my website www.breathwithsamreen.com

Follow my Instagram @breathe_with_samreen