Things I’ve Learned by Watching CNS Candidates: Watching the Client’s Body Language

This post is part of an ongoing series called Things I’ve Learned by Watching CNS Candidates, based on my experience observing hundreds of client sessions through Signature Supervision. Each blog reflects something I’ve learned from watching candidates grow, the subtle clinical skills that can’t be taught in textbooks but make all the difference in how clients feel seen, heard, and safe.

In this installment, I want to talk about something we often overlook when we’re deep in the analytical part of our work: body language.

When we’re in our heads, we stop seeing what’s in front of us

It’s completely understandable that new nutritionists spend so much time thinking during sessions. You’re trying to recall lab markers, mechanisms, nutrition pathways, and the next good question to ask. You’re trying to sound competent, compassionate, and calm, all while navigating a client’s complex story.

But sometimes, when we’re in our heads, we miss what’s happening right in front of us.

I’ve watched sessions where the candidate is explaining a supplement protocol or describing how to taper caffeine, and the client’s whole body language shifts. They cross their arms, their shoulders meet their ears, their chin tucks slightly, or they literally pull their body backward in the chair. Sometimes they even reach for their neck in a small, protective gesture that says, I’m not sure about this.

The candidate keeps talking, unaware that the client’s nervous system has just checked out of the conversation. They go on to explain mechanisms or dosing, not realizing that the client’s body has already said “no.”

Learning to be aware of the client’s body language is one of the most powerful skills to develop as you move from being a student to becoming a provider: learning to watch for the moment when the body starts talking louder than the client’s words.

I once watched a candidate enthusiastically introduce a mindfulness practice to their client. It was a practice the candidate clearly loved and used themselves, you could see it in their posture and tone. They looked grounded, even a little excited, as they described how this technique had changed their own life and how meaningful it could be for this client.

At the beginning of the conversation, the client looked open and curious, nodding along and listening intently. But as the candidate continued, something shifted. The client’s arms slowly came up and crossed over their chest. Their shoulders drew back, their body leaned away from the screen, and their eye contact became less frequent.

The candidate, still in that earnest, excited space, didn’t notice. They kept describing the practice in detail, emphasizing how powerful it could be. Eventually, the client smiled politely and said they’d give it a try.

But as I watched the session, I remember thinking, they’ll never do that.

It wasn’t that the candidate did anything wrong, their enthusiasm came from a good place. But they were so connected to their own positive experience with the practice that they missed how the client’s body was quietly saying, this isn’t for me.

Afterward, when we debriefed the session, I asked the candidate what they noticed about the client’s body language. They paused and said, “Nothing really, they said yes, so I thought they were on board.” When I replayed the moment where the arms crossed and the shoulders pulled back, they looked surprised. “Wow,” they said. “I didn’t see that at all.”

We talked about what might have been happening, maybe the client had tried mindfulness before and found it frustrating, or perhaps slowing down felt uncomfortable for their nervous system. Whatever the reason, their body language said what their words didn’t.

Learning to stay present with the whole person

When you’re a new clinician, it’s easy to think your job is primarily to deliver information, to give the client what they came for. But as you practice longer, you realize that information only lands if the client feels safe enough to receive it.

Watching the body can help you sense when attention or safety is slipping.

That doesn’t mean you have to analyze every micro-expression or overthink every blink. It means staying curious about what your client’s nervous system might be communicating.

Ask yourself:

• Are they leaning toward me or away?

• What’s happening with their arms, are they guarding?

• Has their tone or eye contact shifted?

What happens when you notice a shift? You can simply slow your pace, check in, or soften your tone.

When we notice those nonverbal cues, the crossed arms, the hand at the throat, the body leaning back, it’s not our job to interpret them. It’s our job to get curious.

A gentle way to do that might be:

• “I noticed you leaned back a bit just now — how are you feeling about what we’re discussing?”

• “You look a little unsure. Can I check in with you?”

• “That part feels like it might be bringing something up. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

These kinds of observations show the client that you’re paying attention to more than their words. You’re attuned to their experience, not just their diet history.

Often, that simple check-in opens the door to a completely different (and more helpful) conversation.

The mirror works both ways

One of the other things I’ve noticed watching sessions is that your own body language deeply influences your client’s.

When you get tense, they tense. When you lean in a little too far, they might pull back. When you take a deep breath and slow your speech, they often follow.

The nervous system is contagious. We co-regulate constantly — even over Zoom.

If you find yourself getting caught up in what to say next, try a grounding cue for yourself: soften your shoulders, feel your feet on the floor, or take a slow exhale. You might be amazed how quickly that shifts the energy in the room.

Your calmness makes it easier for your client to stay present.

What clients teach us when we pay attention

Watching all of these sessions has reminded me that clients are always communicating, even when they’re quiet. Their bodies tell us when they feel safe, uncertain, curious, or overwhelmed.

When we slow down enough to notice, we move from being nutrition experts to being nervous-system listeners.

Sometimes, the most therapeutic thing you can do isn’t to give another recommendation, but to acknowledge what their body is already saying.

Something as simple as “It looks like something shifted for you just now, are you willing to share?” can turn a moment of resistance into a moment of connection.

Because ultimately, nutrition counseling isn’t just about what people eat. It’s about how they feel when they talk about food, and whether their body feels safe enough to explore change.

What are your thoughts? Drop a comment or share this with a colleague who’s on the same path.
– Meg