The pain started just below her ribs.
Her name is Rachel. Fifty-two. Accountant. Calm on the outside, overthinking everything on the inside.
The pain started just below her ribs. A pulling, twisting sensation that came and went at first. Then stayed. She saw her GP. Blood tests were normal. So were scans. One specialist mentioned possible IBS. Another said it might be anxiety. She was told to breathe, rest, manage stress. And, very gently, that it was probably all in her head.
She didn’t rage. Didn’t scream. But inside, she shut down. Because even though they didn’t say it unkindly, she felt dismissed. Unseen. As if her body wasn’t making sense to anyone, so maybe it was her fault.
She tried yoga. Tried cutting out gluten. Tried magnesium. Tried mindfulness. But the pain kept twisting. Kept pulling. It made sitting difficult. Driving worse. It was exhausting.
Then one day she tried something new. A friend told her about a clinic that looks at pain differently. One that starts by assuming pain is real—and that the brain has a reason for creating it.
At her first session, the clinician listened without interruption. No guessing. No diagnosing. Just watching how she moved.
There was a spot in her mid-back that didn’t move well. No pain there. But it was stiff. The muscles on one side were overactive. Her left side was doing all the work.
When they gently released that area and had her load her trunk again, the pain below her ribs shifted. Not gone, but clearly different.
By session three, she was sitting comfortably again. By session five, she was pain-free.
No scans changed. No medication. No mind-over-matter. Just finding the real area the brain didn’t trust, and helping it move again.
Rachel laughs now when she tells the story.
"They said it was in my head—and they were right. But not the way they meant. My brain was creating the pain. Not because I was imagining it, but because something wasn’t safe, and it was doing its job to protect me."
The pain wasn’t fake. And it wasn’t her fault.
It was her brain’s best solution—until someone helped it find a better one.