What a Recent Pain Flare Taught Me About Breathing

Over the past few weeks, I've been experiencing one of the most significant pain flares I've had in years. As many of you know, I've lived with endometriosis for a long time and, whilst pain isn't new to me, this recent experience has been a powerful reminder of something I teach every day: when pain changes, breathing changes too.

One of the first things I noticed was how quickly my body moved into protection mode. Without consciously choosing to, I found myself holding my breath, tightening my jaw, lifting my shoulders and breathing higher into my chest. I found it fascinating really, because even though I teach breathing for a living, my body was doing exactly what it was designed to do. Pain had arrived and my nervous system responded by trying to protect me.

I think that's an important thing to remember. So often we judge ourselves when our bodies react in ways we don't like. We wonder why we're tense, why we're holding our breath, why we can't seem to relax. But these responses aren't signs that something has gone wrong. They're signs that the body is doing its best to keep us safe.

This is something I see regularly in the people I work with too. Whether it's back pain, headaches, arthritis, pelvic pain, an injury, or recovery from surgery, pain often changes the way we breathe. We brace around the painful area, tighten muscles that don't need to be involved and become more vigilant and alert. Many people start breathing faster or shallower without even realising it.

From a physiological perspective, this makes perfect sense. Pain is interpreted by the brain as a potential threat and the nervous system responds accordingly. Heart rate may increase, muscles become more guarded and breathing patterns often become less efficient. These responses are incredibly helpful in the short term because they are designed to protect us. The challenge comes when pain persists and the body never quite receives the message that it's safe to come out of protection mode.

When this happens, the breathing pattern itself can become part of the picture. Not because breathing is causing the pain, and I want to be really clear about that, but because breathing influences so many of the systems involved in how we experience it. The way we breathe affects our nervous system, muscle tension, circulation, heart rate variability and our ability to move between states of activation and recovery. When breathing becomes restricted, rushed or held, it can make it harder for the body to access the conditions that support healing and recovery.

One of the biggest misconceptions about breathing is that it's simply about taking in oxygen. In reality, healthy breathing is a delicate balance involving oxygen, carbon dioxide, nervous system regulation and efficient movement of the diaphragm. It's also deeply connected to how safe or threatened the body feels. When we're stuck in a protective breathing pattern, we often become more tired, more tense and less resilient, not because we're doing anything wrong, but because the body is working incredibly hard behind the scenes.

Over the past few weeks, I've found myself returning again and again to the foundations. Not because breathing makes the pain disappear, and not because I believe every symptom can be breathed away, but because it changes my relationship with what I'm experiencing. I've found myself coming back to gentle nasal breathing, softening my exhale, noticing where I'm holding tension that doesn't need to be there and bringing awareness back into my jaw, shoulders and belly. These aren't complicated techniques and they haven't removed the pain, but they have helped me create moments of space within it.

As the weeks have gone on, I think that's been one of the things I've been reflecting on most. Pain is never just the physical sensation itself. Of course the physical part is real, and when you're in pain it's often the thing demanding your attention, but pain also has a way of influencing how we think, how we feel and how we relate to ourselves.

I've certainly noticed moments of frustration. Moments where I've wanted my body to behave differently. Moments where I've caught myself becoming consumed by what was happening and focusing all of my energy on trying to make it stop. I suspect many people living with pain will recognise that feeling.

And whilst that's completely understandable, what I've been gently reminded of is that healing and fixing aren't always the same thing. Sometimes healing isn't about making something disappear. Sometimes it's about finding a way to stay connected to yourself whilst you're moving through a difficult experience. It's about softening some of the fight, listening a little more closely to what your body needs and recognising that whilst pain may be part of your experience, it doesn't have to become your entire identity.

The breath hasn't made this pain disappear and I wouldn't expect it to. But what it has done is give me somewhere to return to when everything feels a little overwhelming. It has helped me notice when I'm bracing. It has helped me soften some of the tension that pain naturally creates. It has helped me create small moments where my body doesn't feel quite so contracted, quite so guarded and quite so locked into protection.

Most importantly, it has helped me stay connected to myself.

As I write this, I'm still in the middle of the experience. There isn't a neat ending yet and I don't have a perfect lesson to wrap everything up with. What I do have is a renewed appreciation for the fact that breathing isn't just something we do when life feels good. Often it's during the most challenging moments that our relationship with our breath matters most.

Not because it changes the circumstance, but because it can change how we meet the circumstance. And sometimes that small shift can make all the difference.

If you’d like to learn more I run functional and deep dive breath workshops throughout the year.

Mel

P.S. Change your breath, Change your life