This Is What Regulation Looks Like

Dec 31.

I’m running later than expected today.

Yesterday was rough.

Last night was rough.

A bad dream clung to me this morning and wouldn’t let go.

Hmmmm… what’s happening?

End-of-year reflection is quietly turning into stress about how to do things differently. But does it have to be stressful?

No. It really doesn’t.

So I pause.

I take a breath.

In…

0ut…

I check in with my body. Where do I feel it?

Left upper chest. Right next to my sternum. A pinching sensation.

The word that rises is fear.

I can almost see it—someone pinching my skin—and that someone is not a kind presence. I close my eyes and gently place my hand on my chest. With my other hand, I imagine pushing that presence away.

No.

You don’t get to hurt me.

You don’t get to pinch me.

I’m okay.

Nothing is burning down.

There is no catastrophe happening right now.

Then my cat appears. She starts kneading my chest and plops herself squarely across me, as if to say, I’ve got you. No one is pinching you on my watch.

I’m writing this as it’s happening.

Unfiltered.

This is somatic awareness in real time—listening to the nervous system, responding with gentleness.

I’m no expert floating above life. I’m a therapist and a human, growing right alongside you. I walk the talk. And sometimes I muddle through.

Rough moments happen. That doesn’t mean we’re broken. It doesn’t mean we lose our right to speak, to take up space, or to be exactly who we are.

Honestly? Having rough moments makes me a better counselor. I’m not tucked away in a corner office telling people what to do from a safe distance. I live in this world. I feel it in my body. I’ve been consciously growing, healing, and evolving for over 30 years—and I share what I’ve learned because it’s real.

Thanks for being on this ride with me.