Hello beautiful souls,  I’m Heemali. I’m a trauma-informed yoga facilitator corporate wellbeing consultant, and women’s holistic health coach (Ayurveda) with a deep focus on nervous system regulation, trauma healing, and cyclical wellbeing.

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My work is rooted in lived experience. I didn’t step into this field through a neat or linear path — I found it by necessity, through my own healing journey. I discovered trauma-sensitive practices at a time when I was desperately searching for support, only to realise how few spaces were truly safe and informed. I had some painful experiences with facilitators who didn’t understand trauma, but I was lucky to also find some incredible ones — people who held space for me, helped me move through shadow work, and supported me in becoming the version of myself I wanted to be, not the one society told me to become.

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I’ve always had a deep connection to the body. I trained as a dancer and was fascinated by movement, expression, and form. But the dance world can be harsh. The pressure, the comparison, and the toxic dynamics with teachers slowly chipped away at my self-worth. I developed body dysmorphia without even realising it. I couldn’t see myself clearly. I stopped recognising the goddess within me and started believing I wasn’t enough. I pushed down overwhelming emotions because I didn’t have the tools to process them — and eventually, my body started to speak through imbalance. My cycle became irregular, sometimes disappearing for months. I was prescribed the combined pill, which only worsened things. I gained weight, experienced acne, mood swings, and hair growth in places no teenager wants to talk about. I didn’t know what was happening — no one around me did. My GP was dismissive, and mental health wasn’t something we spoke about in my family, or anywhere, really.

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In my early twenties, I spent a lot of time running away from my reality. Travelling gave me a way to keep moving, to stay distracted. I immersed myself in different cultures, tried (and failed) to learn new languages, and visited/lived in six continents — Antarctica was too cold to visit! But underneath all the adventure, I was suppressing what needed to be felt. That caught up with me in South America, where I had my first panic attack during a mine tour in Bolivia. I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe, trapped in my own body, needing to be pulled out of that space. That moment was a turning point — the beginning of many more panic attacks and the start of my journey inward.

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When I returned to the UK, I entered the corporate world. It wasn’t my dream, but it felt like the “responsible” thing to do — house, car, stability. And at first, it worked. I had a great team and I was learning, travelling, climbing the ladder. But somewhere along the way, I lost touch with myself. My targets grew, my stress mounted, and my health dropped to the bottom of the list. I was waking up every night with panic attacks and getting through my days on autopilot. I barely cooked, lived off processed food, and felt completely disconnected from my body and emotions.

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Then one morning, after a particularly rough night, I woke up and couldn’t walk. My right foot was swollen and painful. I was eventually diagnosed with Rheumatoid and Psoriatic Arthritis — and that was my breaking point. My body had been trying to speak to me for years, and now it was shouting.

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That was when everything changed. I took a year off and devoted myself to healing. I retrained in trauma-centered practices and worked with a trauma coach, a kinesiologist, a functional doctor, and an acupuncturist. I learned how to sit with the feelings I’d been avoiding for so long. I faced the shadows I had pushed away. It wasn’t easy — in fact, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done — but it was also the most important.

Today, I live in deep relationship with my body. I no longer experience panic attacks, body dysmorphia, or arthritis symptoms. I cook nourishing meals at home, I honour my cycle, I know how to listen to what my body needs. That doesn’t mean I never struggle — life still happens, and healing isn’t a straight line. But now I have tools. I know how to move with my emotions instead of against them. I work with my body, not against it. I live in rhythm instead of resistance.

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I do this work now because I know how hard it is to find the right support — someone who truly sees you, hears you, and creates a space that feels safe. I want others to have the kind of care I once needed but couldn’t find. If any part of my story resonates with you, I’d love to walk alongside you on your journey.

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I truly believe that when we root ourselves — in our bodies, in our breath, in our truth — only then can we begin to grow.