Driving to the osteopath around 7:45 Saturday morning, I had a revelation—not a revelation that I wanted to have, but one that made me burst into tears and fill with dread knowing what I must do. I have, of course, known all along, but there are so many ways to ignore the signals until I just cannot ignore them any longer. I was on my way to the osteopath because I am suffering from hip bursitis. I have always seemed to have hip issues—from having a pinched nerve in my hip when I was about eight to a clicking hip all the way from my teens well into my twenties and perhaps my thirties to extreme tightness along my psoas and IT band to hip bursitis. I understand (and have known for quite some time) that we store a lot of emotion in our hips—particularly emotion related to sexual trauma. I learned this years ago in my twenties when I had some rolfing done. The rolfer pointed out to me that I was equally tense in my shoulders but showed no emotion when he worked on them. Meanwhile...