From Olympian to Somatic Therapist: An Interview with Jamie (Silverstein) Van Auken
Introduction
I first met Jamie back in 2010 in Ithaca, NY. I was fresh out of graduate school and took the first art therapy job I could find which happened to be at an eating disorder treatment program. Jamie was the program manager. We quickly got to know each other and became close friends, bonding over shared interests in mental health, yoga, and creativity. In 2012 we both left Ithaca and went our separate ways—Jamie moved to Seattle where she opened her yoga studio, The Grinning Yogi, and I moved to Gainesville, FL where I took a job as an art therapist at an inpatient eating disorder treatment program. For a while we stayed in touch. In 2013 we co-presented at the annual Renfew Center Foundation conference in Philadelphia, a presentation titled ”The Yoga of Body and Mind: Using Yoga and Art to Empower the Body and Heal the Mind in Eating Disorder Treatment.” That same year I visited Jamie in Seattle and we co-facilitated a well-attended art and yoga workshop at The Grinning Yogi. Over the next several years we each got married, had babies, and gradually lost touch with each other in the busyness of life. Fast forward to 2025 when the stars aligned and I got a text from Jamie wanting to reconnect. When she told me she had gone back to school and was now a marriage and family therapist I wasn’t at all surprised. I asked her if she’d let me interview her for my blog and she enthusiastically agreed.
Interview
Genevieve: You have had such a fascinating career path that includes competing at the 2006 Olympics as a figure skater, graduating from Cornell University in their College Scholar Program which allowed you to create your own interdisciplinary major (Catharsis and Emotional Psychology), becoming an E-RYT 500 yoga teacher and opening multiple yoga studios, and most recently completing graduate school and starting your own practice as a marriage and family therapist. Do you identify with the term "gifted multipotentialite,” which refers to someone who excels in multiple areas of interest and creative pursuits, often simultaneously? Do you experience your various interests as all being connected in some way?
Jamie: Ha! I honestly had to look that one up but I do love the term. That’s such a generous thing to say and a huge compliment! (It’s also a much kinder reframe from what sometimes felt like: ‘trauma made me do it.’) Jokes aside, I think I am deeply drawn towards ways to both understand and embody the human experience. More specifically, I feel like I’ve been on a journey to reconcile what it means to live through a body—with partnership, collaboration, and trust. The work I do and the things I’m drawn to are always in service of that connection.
Genevieve: There are so many topics I’d love to explore with you so I am going to go somewhat chronologically and start by asking you about figure skating. Ice dancing is both a sport and an art requiring athleticism and aesthetic sensitivity. How did you get into ice dancing? Was it something you truly loved and/or did you ever feel pressure to stick with it because you were naturally good at it?
Jamie: Omigosh. For better or worse, I was basically ‘born’ into skating. I am the only girl of four and my mother really loved the sport. According to family lore, she put me in lessons at two and a half. The instructor told her to wait until I was older… and she just signed me up again the next year.
As for ice dancing, I’m not sure I chose it intentionally either. At eleven, I got a try-out (figure skating speak for an audition) with a boy who needed a partner. Through some skating-networking, I was one of his options. Apparently, I was the most exuberant of his try-outs—and he and his coach picked me! My mom drove this decision (literally - we drove to MI to relocate) and then things were rolling. By thirteen, I was already traveling internationally on behalf of the United States and by sixteen I was Junior World Champion.
At the time, I didn’t understand that my sense of identity had collapsed into performance. I think by the time I realized I was experiencing pressure—both internally and systemically— was “in too deep,” as they say. I didn’t have the typical teenage rebellion years or much opportunity to try on different identities. I think a lot about that. For me, the art of skating—the expressive, creative part that I loved—got tangled up with the high-stakes pressure of elite competition. Decades later, it’s still a complex thread to untangle.
Genevieve: People who are gifted often have extremely high self-expectations and tendencies towards perfectionism. If a child’s giftedness is acknowledged by others (e.g. family, teachers, coaches) there can also be significant external pressure to perform and achieve at a high level. Can you tell us about what led to your 4-year break from skating and how you learned to cope with both internal and external pressure to be the best?
Jamie: The truth is I had a breakdown. I was suffering from anorexia and a disordered relationship with movement and I just couldn’t keep going anymore. In a lot of ways, I think being an elite athlete helped me here. Some of the insidious attachments of eating disorders broke to the surface of my life much earlier due to the rigorous needs of my sport; my body literally said no.
After a short break, there was a lot of drama around trying to reconnect with my former partner. (Suffice to say, it did not go well.) Some part of me said “f– this” and I decided to leave skating to go to college. That choice really changed, and perhaps, saved my life.
Still, reconciling a former professional athlete identity with being a college freshman was disorienting. I was still steeped in perfectionism and didn’t really know how to exist outside of training and performance roles. I ended up taking a course on Buddhism where we read an article called: The Futile Pursuit of Happiness; the article argued that if our brains are within a healthy range, we recalibrate to a baseline of contentment, sadness, joy, fear—homeostasis. I took that to mean that I shouldn’t avoid skating because I was regretful and afraid. I called my coach and took a leave from school shortly after. A few months later, I had tryouts and was connected with a new partner. I ended up going to the Olympics in 2006, which was a conflicting experience I have yet to share a lot about. Suffice to say, I will name that, it took much longer to heal and feel at stasis with myself. I had years of ongoing support to heal my relationship with food, movement, and achievement. Yoga, friendships, distance all helped a ton too.
Genevieve: You studied catharsis and emotional psychology at Cornell University and then spent several years working in eating disorder treatment programs and as an eating disorder recovery advocate, speaking and writing about how yoga can support healing and embodiment. Did you always know you would return to school to become a marriage and family therapist? What prompted you to go this route and start your own practice?
Jamie: After college, my original plan was to get an MSW and jump straight into therapy work. But when I looked at loans and considered my own capacity, I realized it wasn’t the right time. I remember thinking I’d have to “turn my humanity off” to become a therapist (which of course isn’t true!), and I had a full-body no. I had worked so hard to reconnect with myself after the numbing required in elite athletics—I wasn’t willing to risk that.
I remember I was teaching a lot of yoga at the time (and working with you!). I took an inventory of where I felt most like myself and every answer pointed to yoga. I figured if I was going to go into debt, it should be for something that was grounding me. That choice grew into The Grinning Yogi, which I still own today.
Fast forward to falling in love, marriage, the pandemic, kids—plus a ton of other human-ing stuff—and my need to understand nervous systems, neurotypes, and why we “choose” patterns that seemingly undermine connection, became really important. I needed to know how to partner and parent in alignment with my body and heart. I needed new paradigms for myself and my family. That led me to pursue my Master’s in Marriage and Family Therapy with a focus on relational psychology and neurodiversity-affirming care.
My practice, Path With Heart Therapy, is really a continuation of everything I’ve always been drawn to—embodiment, somatic care, connection, healing—expressed through the language of therapy.
Genevieve: You’ve been open about the fact that both your son and husband are Autistic. Giftedness also fits under the umbrella of neurodivergence. What are some of the gifts and challenges of being part of a neurodivergent family? How does your personal experience in this area inform your approach as a therapist?
Jamie: This is the question, isn’t it? Being in the family I’m in has fundamentally changed how I understand and relate to the world. Raising an Autistic child in current systems—full of biases and misinformation—is incredibly vulnerable. The stigma is often invisible unless you’re living it or are attuned to where to look. At the same time, many of us, myself included, carry deep nervous-system patterns from growing up in environments that didn’t match our way of being.
So many of us, especially neurodivergent and Autistic people have to learn to flourish in environments that are not accommodating. Our problems are not our neurotypes but the narrow and often incompatible norms we try to fit ourselves into.
It’s been transformative to reconcile that I know, on a soul level, nothing is “wrong” with my kid—and yet I still receive feedback that attempts to imply otherwise. I had to hold a mirror up to my own biases and dispositions. I’ve also had to grieve the stories I carried about what parenting means and the stories and dreams I’ve attached to my children’s future. In my marriage, the work has shifted from feeling “unseen” to a deeper understanding and recognition of how differently each of us sees and relates to things. Moving conversations from “this is personal” to “this is how my brain works” has been compassion-provoking and liberating.
As a therapist, I always say: “Normal is an N of 1.” There is no normal. There is only the invitation to understand how you—and your body, brain, and nervous system—work, so you can meet yourself and others with compassion and curiosity. That’s my path with heart.
Genevieve: From the time we met back in 2010 you’ve been an inspiration to me, and I know many others feel the same way. Thank you so much for shining your light into the world. Tell us all the ways people can find you and connect with you.
Jamie: You are so kind—truly. I would say the same about you! People can find me through my therapy practice: Path With Heart Therapy, or they can take classes at The Grinning Yogi in Seattle. I also have some very low-quality (but full of heart!) streaming yoga classes on demand.
