🔴 How Red Light Became a Soft Place to Land (with 20-minute ritual)

I’ll be the first to say it: red light therapy doesn’t mend a broken heart — at least not in the way people imagine. It doesn’t erase memories, silence the grief, or magically make the holidays easier. That kind of healing is sacred, slow, and very human.

But what PBM has become for me…is a calm, warm, non-judgmental space where my body can settle, my emotions can breathe, and my nervous system can catch up to the reality of my life.

I didn’t expect that. Not at all.

✨ It calms the overwhelm.

Grief has a way of making your chest tight and your thoughts loud. It can turn a normal day into a mental marathon. But the moment the light turns on, something shifts.

In that warm red glow, something in my system lets go:

• my jaw softens

• my breath deepens

• my shoulders finally drop

It feels like my body says, “Okay… we can rest now.”

✨ It helps emotion move instead of getting stuck.

Grief sits in the body — in the ribs, hips, throat, shoulders.There were days I felt like my entire chest was in a vice grip.

PBM increases circulation and softens the tissues where we unknowingly store tension. So instead of emotions freezing inside me, they actually move through.

Sometimes they move through as tears.Sometimes as a big exhale.Sometimes as a quiet sense of lightness that wasn’t there before.

✨ It lifts the fog on those “grief hangover” days.

There are mornings when you wake up exhausted even though you slept — that bone-deep emotional fatigue.

PBM helps restore cellular energy (hello ATP), which means my body gets the support it needs when my heart and mind feel drained.Not in a hyped-up way…but in a steady, grounded, okay-I-can-do-this way.

✨ It became my 20-minute anchor when everything else felt upside down.

Grief takes the structure out of life. Everything familiar shifts.

But my red light sessions became a small anchor —20 minutes where I can just be. No performing. No explaining. No pretending.

Just me, sitting in the glow, letting my nervous system recalibrate.

Sometimes those 20 minutes hold tears.Sometimes they hold silence. Sometimes they hold nothing at all — and that’s still healing.

PBM doesn’t judge. It doesn’t ask. It doesn’t push.

It simply gives me a place to land emotionally, physically, and energetically.

And every 20-minute session feels like a tiny act of self-respect — a reminder that even in the hardest seasons, I am still here… still healing… still deserving of care.

Maybe that’s the real magic of red light therapy: Not that it takes the pain away —but that it helps you carry it without losing your light.