If calm is not regulated, then what is?

If being regulated isn't the same as being calm, then how do I know if my nervous system is ‘healthy’ (or healing)? If staying calm isn’t the end goal, then what is a regulated nervous system? These questions have been on my mind lately, having seen the debates going on social media about what regulation should look and feel like, misunderstandings about nervous system regulation, different camps challenging nervous system work and so on. An ordeal that I went through this last weekend helped answer these questions for me.

In the past, I’ve always been proud of my ability to stay calm at times of crisis. Growing up, I was the one in my family to take charge of figuring things out when crisis happens. I took pride in being able to stay level-headed and problem-solve when others breakdown or feel lost. I saw that as my strength. I thought I was great at remaining calm while responding to stressful times. But what I didn’t realize was that I was also numbing myself from feeling everything because I was pushing what I saw as ‘unproductive’ / ‘unhelpful’ emotions down so that I could function/perform.

Since learning more about nervous system work and working on my own healing, I have made a lot of changes to help expand my nervous system capacity. I could feel that I was getting better at handling life stressors while giving room for my emotions. But the truth is, it’s a lot easier to stay regulated when your life isn’t in great distress. The real test is how well you can respond and recover when you are thrown into crisis, when the sense of safety around you is challenged. And staying calm isn’t all there is. I had a taste of that firsthand last weekend, and it taught me so much.

Along my healing journey, I have consciously tried to structure my life around creating safety (something I didn’t experience in the past) to help my nervous system and those in my family to better handle life stressors. This safe, predictable (or some may say ‘boring’) life was challenged when I decided to allow someone in need into it. I didn’t know at that time that offering to help would open up our lives to what would be a distressing experience we weren’t prepared for. 

Before this, my offer to help others often stemmed from my inability to witness their suffering without needing to take it upon myself to ‘save’ them. And then this would sometimes turn into resentment when I feel the weight of the responsibility I impose on myself for the sake of being a ‘good’ person doing the right thing. Since working on my own healing, I have been able to expand my capacity to hold space for another, to witness their pain and suffering with compassion, without needing to be their savior. I first realized this shift when I was able to hold space for a fellow trainee who was being triggered by her trauma during a training in Mexico, offering my presence as a way to co-regulate with her without trying to help solve her problem. She later shared that my grounded presence helped her regulate herself so that she could get out of her survival mode and find her own solution.

This was put to the test again last weekend when an acquaintance (who was at risk) reached out to ask for help. Rather than reacting to the need to help because it was the ‘right’ thing to do, I took a pause and checked in with myself. That pause gave me a chance to acknowledge the hesitation and fear that was coming up in my body knowing that the safe world I created was about to be disrupted. That pause also allowed me to make a conscious choice to offer my help in spite of that. Although I knew deep inside that it wasn’t a ‘100% yes, I want to’, I chose to do so for many reasons that felt right in my heart. And I do not regret that decision one bit.

The events that subsequently unfolded caused a lot of distress for me and my family. I was triggered and I was dysregulated for sure. I couldn’t eat or sleep for 2 days. My gut felt like it was burning inside and I felt like throwing up the entire time. My psoriasis flared up. In the past I would have ignored these symptoms or write them off as just stress induced, then become overwhelmed and allow it to spill over to how I relate to others, especially my husband and daughter. I knew they were feeling dysregulated too. And we could all either take it out on one another or numb ourselves with mindless things. This could have left a rupture in our sense of safety and connection.

But this time I was better equipped to attune to what my nervous system was trying to do to keep me safe. I slowed down to pay attention, to listen, and most importantly to respond by giving my body what it needed to feel safe again. It wasn’t easy and it pained me to see someone suffering, but I chose to acknowledge my boundaries, to speak my truth, and to follow what my instincts were trying to show me. This allowed me to make decisions from the place of love and compassion, to hold the space and witness the pain this person was going through without losing myself, and without the urge to pull her out of her despair.

Yes, I was still able to stay calm and level-headed to figure things out logically as I did before. But the big difference was that I was also able to give room to the feelings that came up for me. I allowed the feelings of fear (for my family’s safety), doubt (what is the right thing to do), grief and sadness (seeing the suffering of another), anger (being treated with dishonesty), guilt (for exposing my daughter to distress), as well as love and compassion, all to be present, without judgement. I allowed myself to take actions to help this person find her way AND ride through my emotions when it was over, as the sense of grief over the suffering of another human being, of a mother, and of this world weigh down on me. I allowed my husband and daughter to witness my pain without hiding and reached out to them for connection. I acknowledged and gave space to what was coming up for me without trying to make meaning of them in the moment (a challenge for someone who is always in her head).

Did I do everything right? Definitely not. We were all dysregulated at one point and it showed up in different ways. We reacted to triggers and coped in the ways we each knew how – with distractions, with anger. But what made the difference was that instead of turning away or against each other, we turned to one another to co-regulate, to find safety again through our connection. We held on to each other, to help recognize what was going on without judgement, and to offer whatever we each needed. This came from a place of love and compassion, because I was able to first show myself love and compassion, even in the midst of dysregulation. In turn, I was able to offer my daughter a safe place to experience whatever she was going through but have no words to explain.

I also realized that this time I didn’t just notice triggers. I also saw the glimmers. The sense of calm I felt while I cuddled with my husband and daughter, the look of unconditional love and joy on my dog simply being with us, the giggles of my daughter over doing silly Mad Libs together, the simple pleasure of enjoying a meal and treat together, and the love and comfort my daughter felt (and showed me) when we cuddled together at the end of the night.

After the ordeal was over, I recognized that my body was exhausted and desperately needed rest and recovery. Instead of numbing it like I used to with mindless chores or screen time, I gave my body what it needed. And so did my husband, as we both lean into one another for co-regulation to feel safe again. Instead of jumping back into my routine the next day, I rescheduled my day so that I could rest and reconnect with myself. I experienced stillness and the peace of solitude. Because I was able to offer that to myself, I was then able to connect with my client the next day from a place of safety and engagement and help her connect with herself during our session together.

In the end, what pulled me through wasn’t my problem solving skills or my ability to manage at times of crisis. It was the social connection – my safe places – that I found in my husband, my sister and my daughter, that brought me back to safety during a time that felt unsafe. It was the ability to hold space for myself without judgement, without which I could not offer a safe space for another to heal. It had nothing to do with staying calm, but rather being attuned to my body and my nervous system even as it goes through dysregulation, trusting that it is communicating with me to keep me safe. It was through acknowledging what’s coming up without judgement and meaning making, attending to what it needs and making conscious choices from that space.

This experience also taught me a very valuable lesson as a parent. Whilst I wish I could shield my daughter from the cruelty of the world that feels so unsafe at times, the reality is that stressful events are part of life. It is in how we respond to those situations that will teach our children how to do so in their lives. How we can offer them a safe place even in the midst of unsafety, how they can always count on us for social connection, and how we can lean on each other as source of co-regulation.

This experience strengthened the love and connection we have for each another and as a family. Even in those stressful moments that we were dealing with and responding to dysregulation, and even when we made mistakes. The grace we gave ourselves as we learn from them and the love we showed one another as we repair from those mistakes, made this experience something that I will never forget. Maybe that’s what this was meant to teach us.

That is how I know I am on the right path in healing my nervous system - when I have the capacity and flexibility to respond to and recover from life stressors and come home to safety within.