About
Satya Tremaine
Most of my life felt like I wasn’t really living it.
Even though I'd been married, had children, run a business — everything I did felt disconnected from real emotional connection. I didn't understand why. And because I didn't understand it, I had no idea there was anything I could do about it.
I had immense low self-esteem. I had become a perfectionist just to survive. I battled on silently, never asking for help — and when I did, it usually came out in desperation, through alcohol and blame. I was exhausted. I wanted to be rescued. But that only pushed people further away.
But I've come to see that my disconnection began long before — in infancy, in the generational patterns handed down to me, in a childhood that had love in it but not the kind of safety I needed to feel truly myself. When I was eleven, a significant event left a mark on my nervous system that I wouldn't fully understand for decades.
In 2017, I made a decision.
I started small — I went looking for a local meditation class. That led me to Buddhism. I studied for seven years, training to become an ordained member of my local tradition. Although I've since left that path, it opened a door. It helped me see there was another way to live — that I am not my thoughts, that I am deeply conditioned by my past, and that there is a way out of suffering.
That door led me to somatic therapy, nervous system work, breathwork, and movement. And slowly, everything began to change.
I've gone from:
Living in constant anxiety and self-doubt
Running on survival mode, numb and shut down
Carrying autoimmune illness, depression, and loneliness
To:
Feeling deep love and compassion for myself
Building beautiful, honest relationships
Expanding into new possibilities as I grow more intimate with who I really am
But something shifted again — more quietly.
I began to see that it wasn't just the painful events that had shaped me. It was the stories I had built around them. I am too much. I am not enough. I have to earn love. These narratives felt like truth. They felt like me.
They weren't.
They were formed when I was young — necessary then, for survival. But I was still living inside them as an adult, running them on automatic, long after they had stopped serving me. The moment I became willing to see them differently — not to fight them, not to fix them, but simply to question whether they were true — something began to loosen.
This is where real freedom lives. Not in the story of who we have been. But in the quiet space underneath — the part of us that was never broken, never anything other than whole.
And then — unexpectedly — the music came back.
I had been a professional singer and actress before any of this. But the disconnection I carried made performing feel impossible. Stage fright took over and the thing I had always loved felt suddenly out of reach.
Now I write songs. Not about the stories. From the place beyond them.
Every song is an invitation — to question the voice that tells you you're not enough, to come home to the quiet truth of who you really are.
Healing is possible. It takes commitment and dedication. But the result? You get yourself back. You get your life back.
And you no longer have to walk the path alone.
What clients say