The Spring My Body Didn’t Feel Ready For

When everything around me began to bloom—and my nervous system tightened instead.

The first warm morning always arrives quietly.

Light slips through the window earlier than it did just weeks before. The air feels softer. The world outside begins to stretch awake again.

And yet—inside my body, something else happens.

My chest tightens before I even open my eyes.
My thoughts begin moving faster than I can follow them.
There’s a subtle urgency I can’t quite name… but I feel it everywhere.

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

Because isn’t spring supposed to feel lighter?
Happier?
Full of energy and possibility?

And yet, instead of relief, I felt restless. Activated. Uneasy in a way that didn’t match the season.

If you’ve felt this too—this quiet rise of spring anxiety or seasonal anxiety—you’re not alone.
And more importantly, your body isn’t failing you.

It’s responding.

A woman standing in soft spring sunlight with eyes closed, embodying calm, grounded presence.

Steady, even as everything begins again.

What Spring Anxiety Can Look Like (In a Body That’s Already Holding So Much)

For me, it didn’t show up as obvious panic.

It looked like waking up tired but wired.
It looked like lying in bed at night—exhausted, but unable to sleep.
It looked like my mind scanning for something to fix, solve, or prepare for.

It looked like:

  • A subtle increase in insomnia, even when nothing in my schedule had changed

  • A low hum of restlessness or agitation that followed me through the day

  • GI discomfort that felt like my body trying to process something it couldn’t name

  • A sense that I should be doing more… even when I was already doing enough

  • Feeling emotionally tender in ways that didn’t quite make sense on the surface

And layered beneath all of it—grief.

Grief that didn’t disappear just because the season changed.
Grief that didn’t match the brightness outside.

In seasons of loss, transition, or perimenopause, the body can already feel like it’s carrying more than it knows how to hold. Spring doesn’t erase that.

Sometimes—it amplifies it.

If you’re noticing these patterns in yourself, it may help to gently explore what support could look like for you right now — you can read more about the support I offer here and see what resonates, at your own pace.

Why This Happens: When the World Speeds Up, the Nervous System Listens

It took me time to understand that nothing about this was random.

Spring is a season of activation.

Longer daylight hours signal the body to wake up earlier and stay alert longer.
Schedules begin to shift—more plans, more invitations, more movement.
There’s an unspoken cultural message: this is the time to begin again.

To grow.
To bloom.
To feel better.

But the nervous system doesn’t respond to seasons the way a calendar does.

If you’ve experienced grief, burnout, caregiving, or identity shifts… your system may still be in a winter of its own.

So when the external world speeds up, your internal world can feel overwhelmed trying to keep pace.

This is especially true when:

  • You’re navigating grief support needs that haven’t been fully held

  • Your system is already sensitized by generalized anxiety or hormonal shifts

  • You’ve been “holding it together” for a long time

  • You’re moving through grief and trauma healing that doesn’t follow a linear timeline

Spring can create a kind of mismatch:

The world says expand.
Your body says not yet.

And that tension can feel like anxiety.

How Coaching Helped Me Listen Instead of Push Through

For a long time, I tried to think my way through this.

I told myself to be grateful for the sunshine.
To take advantage of the energy.
To “use the season well.”

But my body didn’t respond to pressure.

It responded to safety.

Through trauma informed grief support and somatic grief healing, I began to understand something that changed everything:

My anxiety wasn’t a problem to fix.
It was communication.

Coaching—especially grief coaching online and body based grief healing—helped me:

  • Notice when my nervous system was becoming activated, instead of overriding it

  • Build nervous system regulation practices that met me where I was

  • Understand how seasonal shifts were impacting my emotional landscape

  • Create space for grief and growth, without forcing one to replace the other

  • Move from constant urgency into something steadier—something like internal permission

I didn’t have to “catch up” to spring.

I could move with my own timing.

If you’re curious how this kind of support works in practice— you can learn how this work supports nervous system safety and emotional steadiness here, in a way that honors your pace.

A Different Way to Meet This Season

These days, when spring arrives, I still feel the shift.

The light still wakes me earlier.
My body still notices the change.

But instead of asking, “What should I be doing right now?”
I ask something else:

What is my body asking for as everything begins again?

Sometimes the answer is movement.
Sometimes it’s rest.
Sometimes it’s grief that needs a little more space, even as the world blooms.

Spring doesn’t have to be a season of becoming someone new.

It can be a season of staying close to yourself — even as everything around you changes.

A Gentle Invitation

If spring anxiety has been feeling confusing, persistent, or quietly overwhelming — you don’t have to sort through it alone.

There are ways to feel more grounded, more supported, and more connected to your body as it moves through this season.

If it feels right, you’re welcome to begin with a quiet conversation here— a space where we can simply explore what support might look like for you, without pressure or expectation.

And if nothing else, let this be enough for today:

Your body is not behind.
It is not missing the season.

It is moving in its own rhythm—
one that deserves to be listened to.

Portrait of Dawn Geoppinger, grief educator and somatic practitioner, offering gentle grief support and embodied healing.

Dawn M. Geoppinger, Trauma-Informed Grief & Embodiment Coach

Dawn M. Geoppinger is a Trauma-Informed Grief & Embodiment Coach based in Portland, Oregon, with a strong foundation of over two decades of professional experience in public administration, education, and the nonprofit sector. She specializes in grief education, somatic movement, breathwork, and mindfulness, integrating evidence-based approaches such as somatic practices, post-traumatic growth and woman-centered principles to help clients reconnect with themselves, regulate their nervous systems, and honor the full spectrum of loss and healing. Through her practice, The Embodied Grief Journey™, Dawn provides compassionate, expert support both in person and online—creating safe, nurturing spaces for individuals to explore grief, resilience, and embodied healing.

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