As a trauma therapist, I work with countless adults who were once the “good kids.” The ones who never caused problems, who learned early to read the room, who became experts at managing everyone’s emotions but their own.

I should know, I am a fellow recovering “good kid.” Always the high-achieving, straight-A student, who smiled and nodded along in order to be perceived as “easy” and go with the flow. I felt pride in being helpful to others, the one everyone could turn to when they had a problem. Yet, why did I feel alone?

Clients like myself often come to me confused about why life feels so hard when, on paper, they’re doing everything right. They’re accomplished, responsible, and reliable. Yet beneath the surface, they’re exhausted, anxious, and disconnected from themselves.

If you were raised by a parent who was emotionally distant or reactive—someone who couldn’t create a safe emotional environment within the family—these patterns may feel painfully familiar:

You feel guilty asking for help, even when you’re drowning. You learned early on—whether directly or indirectly—that your needs were too much to ask, that asking for support meant being a burden. So you push through alone, even when the weight becomes unbearable.

You can’t relax without feeling like you’re being lazy or falling behind. Rest feels dangerous. Your worth became tied to productivity, to being useful, to never dropping the ball. Downtime triggers anxiety instead of relief.

You’re hyper-aware of everyone else’s moods, like it’s your job to manage them. You walk into a room and immediately scan for tension. You learned early that your safety depended on keeping the emotional temperature stable and that vigilance never turned off.

You struggle to say what you need because you’re afraid of being a burden. Your own feelings got minimized so often that you started minimizing them yourself. Now, speaking up feels selfish, even when what you’re asking for is reasonable and small.

You avoid conflict at all costs, even when something really matters to you. Peace became more important than truth. You learned to swallow your voice, to smooth things over, to prioritize everyone else’s comfort over your own boundaries.

You second-guess yourself constantly, even over small decisions. When your feelings and perceptions were regularly dismissed or contradicted, you stopped trusting yourself. Now, even simple choices feel weighted with doubt.

You’re the one everyone leans on, but you feel like no one really sees you. You became so skilled at supporting others that they forget you might need support too. Your competence became invisible armor that keeps real connection at bay.

You bottle up anger, then feel ashamed for having it at all. Anger wasn’t safe in your household. So you learned to suppress it, to turn it inward, to feel guilty for having normal human reactions to being hurt or frustrated.

You keep things to yourself because opening up feels risky. Vulnerability was met with dismissal, judgment, or emotional overwhelm from your parent. You learned that sharing your inner world led to pain, not comfort.

You learned to meet everyone else’s needs but not your own. Taking care of others felt safer than advocating for yourself. Their needs were clear and immediate; yours felt murky and selfish by comparison.

You’re Not Broken, You Adapted

If this hits close to home, I need you to hear this: you’re not broken. You’re not too sensitive, too needy, or too much.

You adapted brilliantly to an environment where emotional safety was inconsistent or absent. The patterns that protected you then made perfect sense. They helped you survive.

But what once kept you safe may now be keeping you stuck. The armor that protected you as a child can become a cage in adulthood.

You deserve to feel safe. You deserve to be supported. You deserve to be seen—not for what you do or how you help others, but simply for who you are.

Healing doesn’t mean you were broken. It means you’re ready to put down defenses you no longer need and reclaim the parts of yourself you had to hide.

Questions for Your Self-Reflection

• Where in my life am I still staying small to feel safe, even though I’m no longer in the environment that required it?
  Notice where you shrink, soften, over-function, or stay quiet out of habit rather than choice.

• What did I learn about my needs growing up, and how do those beliefs show up in my relationships today?
  Pay attention to the moments you hesitate to ask, apologize for needing, or convince yourself you should “handle it alone.”

• If rest, honesty, or conflict didn’t threaten my sense of belonging, what might I allow myself to do differently?
  Let this question open curiosity rather than demand answers.

If this resonates with you and you are looking to take a step deeper into your healing work, I invite you to join me in my free mini-course, Healing Starts Here.

The holiday stress has hit me. Hard.

I’ve been chasing a potty-training toddler, writing the first half of my book, and staying attuned to my full caseload of private clients. Christmas presents have been sitting in my Amazon cart for weeks—I’ve purchased zero. I have an idea for a family Christmas card I want to send, yet I know I won’t get to it for the second year in a row.

I’m worried I am going to show up to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day frustrated with myself—upset that I didn’t plan more traditions and Christmas magic for my son.

I feel this foggy, uncomfortable feeling in my bones.

Maybe you’re feeling a bit of this, too.

It’s not quite anxiety, though there’s definitely some of that. It’s more like a low-grade hum of tension that settles into your chest and shoulders. Your jaw gets tight. Your breath gets shallow. You feel like you’re bracing for something, even when you’re just cleaning your kitchen or scrolling through your Instagram feed.

Maybe you’ve noticed you’re more reactive than usual. If you’re like me, perhaps you realize you’re snapping at your partner over something small, or feeling tears spring up unexpectedly when a holiday commercial comes on. You might find yourself lying awake at 2 AM, mentally calculating travel logistics or rehearsing conversations you haven’t had yet.

Here’s what I want you (and myself) to know: Your body isn’t overreacting. It’s responding exactly as it was designed to.

When Your Nervous System Remembers

The holidays aren’t just emotionally loaded, they’re somatically loaded. That means your body holds memories of every past holiday experience: the tension at the dinner table, the disappointment of unmet expectations, the feeling of walking on eggshells around certain family members.

As trauma researcher Dr. Bessel van der Kolk explains in his groundbreaking work, “The Body Keeps the Score”, our bodies store emotional experiences in ways our conscious minds don’t always access.

Your nervous system doesn’t differentiate between past and present very well. So when you start feeling anxious trying to find the perfect gift or booking flights home, your body essentially says, “Oh, I remember this. Last time this happened, we needed to be on high alert.”

And just like that, you’re in a stress response, often before you’ve even consciously registered feeling stressed.

This is what Dr. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory calls sympathetic activation, your fight-or-flight mode. Your heart rate increases. Your muscles tense. Your body is literally preparing to either defend itself or run away, even though you’re just sitting on your couch addressing Christmas cards.

For those of us who grew up in homes where we had to constantly monitor the emotional temperature of the room, where we learned to be hypervigilant about keeping the peace or anticipating someone’s mood, the holidays can feel like walking back into that environment, even if we’re adults now with our own lives and boundaries.

Your body remembers the unpredictability. The tension. The feeling of never quite knowing if the people around you would be warm and loving or tense and uncomfortable.

It’s Not You

If you feel like you’re “too sensitive” or “overreacting” to holiday planning, please hear this: You’re not too much. Your nervous system is doing its job. It’s trying to protect you based on what it learned was necessary for survival.

The stress you feel isn’t a character flaw. It’s not evidence that you’re ungrateful or difficult. It’s your body’s way of saying, “Hey, I need some support here. This situation historically hasn’t felt safe for me.”

Once you understand what’s happening in your body, you can start to work with it instead of against it.

A Simple Practice: Holiday Humming

Here is a quick, surprisingly powerful tool to calm your nervous system in the moment. It’s especially perfect for the holidays.

Why it works: Humming activates your vagus nerve, which is like the brake pedal for your stress response. It literally signals to your body, “We’re safe. We can relax.”

How to do it:

1. Think of your favorite holiday song, anything that feels comforting or joyful to you

2. Close your eyes (or soften your gaze)

3. Take a gentle breath in through your nose

4. As you exhale, hum the melody of your song, any part of it, even just a few notes

5. Feel the vibration in your chest, throat, and face

6. Repeat for 5-10 breaths, or longer if it feels good

You can do this anywhere: in your car before walking into a family gathering, in the bathroom during a tense dinner, or in bed when your mind won’t stop spinning. Your body doesn’t need a complete meditation practice; sometimes just 60 seconds of humming is enough to shift you from “on edge” to “I can handle this.”

Your nervous system isn’t your enemy. It’s been trying to keep you safe this whole time. And now that you understand what it needs, you can offer it the compassion and support it’s been asking for all along. 💛

I am off to take my own advice as I navigate my own holiday stressors. Currently humming, “The First Noel.”

You’re the person who starts playing Mariah Carey on November 1st. You have strong opinions about tree decorating strategies. The sight of twinkling lights makes your heart swell in a way that feels almost childlike.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of you that wonders: Why do I care this much?

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Here’s something I want you to consider with gentle curiosity: If you grew up with a parent or caregiver who was emotionally immature or misattuned, someone who struggled to show up for your emotional needs consistently, Christmas might have been the one day you could count on.

One day of warmth. One day of structure. One day, when you knew exactly what to expect.

The gifts under the tree? They weren’t just presents. They were validation. Validation that you mattered. Validation that you were finally seen. Validation that you were worthy of love and care, even if that love came wrapped in a box instead of being spoken in words.

It makes so much sense that gifts feel like love to you now. For many who grew up with emotionally unavailable parents, receiving gifts became their primary love language. This is not because you’re materialistic, but because tangible objects were the most reliable form of affection you received.

That beautiful, over-the-top love you have for Christmas? It’s not silly. It’s not “too much.” It’s your inner child holding onto the one day she felt safe, seen, and maybe even special.

A gentle reflection

As you move through this holiday season, I invite you to notice what comes up for you around gift-giving and receiving. Notice if there’s a little voice that says, “If they really loved me, they’d get me the right gift.” Notice if you feel anxious about giving the perfect present to prove your love.

And when you notice these things, can you offer yourself some compassion? Can you acknowledge the younger part of you who learned that gifts = love, and let her know that you see her and that she’s allowed to enjoy the magic of the season while healing at the same time?

You don’t have to choose between loving Christmas and doing your healing work. You get to have both. 💛

If you’re anything like me, your streaming platforms are already demanding that you watch a loop of festive movies, like my personal favorite, The Family Stone, where everyone is either perfectly dysfunctional or perfectly reconciled by Christmas morning. Before you know it, you’re watching your tenth Hallmark Christmas movie, where everything is twinkling lights, the perfect light snowfall, and a small town that needs saving by the girl from the big city!

But if that cozy, cohesive movie scene feels like a complete work of fiction compared to the reality of your own family gatherings, please know you are absolutely not alone.

As you look ahead, maybe your stomach is already doing nervous flips, anticipating those loaded comments and conversations you’d really prefer to dodge. Perhaps your biggest wish is to skip the family tension entirely, but then the guilt rolls in, mixed with the sadness of missing out on traditions. It’s a messy, relatable mix of feelings.

Last month, I asked my community what questions they would like me to talk about in my next Substack post. This group pulled through with the hard-hitting questions that many of us need answered, especially as we approach the holidays!

Let’s dive in, shall we?

How do I set healthy boundaries?

First of all, let’s remember that boundaries are a bridge to connection! They show others how to respect you and what you need, which inevitably makes you feel closer to them.

When assessing whether I need a boundary, I always ask myself, “What would bring me more peace in this situation?” Maybe you can ask yourself, “What do I genuinely need and want right now?” If the thing that would bring me more peace is followed by the fear of someone else’s response, I know it’s boundary-setting time!

The simplest way to explain boundary-setting is this: you will tell someone what you will or will not do. It literally requires nothing of them.

“We cannot attend Christmas Eve this year, but we would be happy to FaceTime instead!”

Or, if you’re really not wanting to entertain a certain topic, you can say:

“If politics are discussed at dinner, I will leave the room.”

For those of us people-pleasers who tend to feel a whole bucket o’ guilt every time we set a boundary, it can be helpful to preface the boundary-setting by validating the emotion you know the other person is likely feeling in response to your boundary. (This is my favorite strategy to keep hard conversations feeling connected!)

“I know this is disappointing to hear, but we will have to leave early.”

“I know it is frustrating that I’ll be away during our busy season, but I need to hold firm on taking my PTO.”

If boundary-setting is hard for you, you can use this mantra to help you move through the discomfort: I prioritize my safety and peace. Their feelings are theirs to hold; my boundary is mine to keep.

How do you determine when it is appropriate to give yourself permission to detach from a parent? Am I just being an ungrateful adult kid?

If you’re wrestling with taking space from a parent, I want you to know something right away: this isn’t coming out of nowhere, and you are not being dramatic. This gut feeling usually results from a lifetime of small, painful moments of emotional misattunements we call relational ruptures.

Think about it: Did you grow up with a parent who just couldn’t quite see or hear you emotionally? Maybe when you felt angry, sad, or frustrated, they didn’t offer that unconditional love and acceptance we all need. Instead, your feelings might have been brushed off, minimized, or just completely ignored. Even worse, perhaps they’ve said or done things that really hurt you, and when you needed them to apologize and truly own it, they never did. They couldn’t or wouldn’t do the work to make things right. When that happens, when your deep emotional needs are constantly unmet, that’s when you realize you need to step back and find some air.

Now, I know what you might hear: “But I did so much for you! I paid for your school! I gave you a roof over your head!” And yes, that stuff is true! They provided materially. But we have to separate that from the emotional reality. You can provide a roof and still be emotionally harmful or absent. The most common, crucial reason adult children start exploring distance is simply that the emotional safety wasn’t there.

I want you to remember, you are always allowed to take space. Taking space doesn’t mean you’re signing a document saying you’re gone forever. It just means you’re taking space today because you desperately need the time and freedom to figure out how you feel and what you need to heal. Sometimes, it involves clearly telling them, “Hey, for our relationship to work, this is what I need from you...” And then you wait and see if they’re willing to listen, show up, and genuinely repair the relationship. If they can’t or won’t meet you there, if they’re not willing to do the work, you are allowed to step back and prioritize your peace.

How do you explain why you are no longer talking to a certain parent after they’ve abused you for years?

This is a profoundly important question, and one I am truly sorry you find yourself navigating. When answering this, the explanation will likely need to shift depending on your audience.

If you are speaking to another adult, be it a friend or family member, I always recommend naming the pattern and speaking the truth directly. You are absolutely allowed to say: “I am actively taking space from my parent because they have not created a safe environment for me to be in a relationship with them. In fact, I am choosing to distance myself from someone who has actively caused me harm for years. I need to protect myself and keep myself safe.”

If you are explaining this decision to a child, the language should be simplified and focused on boundaries and respect. You may say: “If someone cannot treat you with kindness and respect, you are allowed to take space from that person. We are not speaking to my parent right now because they have not treated me with kindness and respect.”

As you move through this holiday season, remember that prioritizing your emotional safety is the ultimate act of self-care. Setting a boundary, whether it’s managing a conversation or taking essential distance, is not an act of rejection; it is an act of self-preservation. You are allowed to protect the peace you’ve worked so hard to find!

Use the following questions for personal reflection as you prepare for the coming weeks:

• What is the one boundary I most need to hold firm this holiday season to protect my peace?

• Whose disappointment am I most afraid of, and how can I remind myself that their feelings are not my responsibility?

• What is one small step I can take today to create a sense of safety and calm in my environment?

That’s the core of what I do every day, teaching others how to re-learn emotional attunement, safety, and repair.

And then… I had a moment of my own.

The Car Seat Moment

Yesterday, I was trying to get my three-year-old into the car. We were running late for swimming class, and he was doing everything but getting in his car seat — giggling, stalling, playing.

I could feel my body start to tense. My voice got sharper. I said, “If you can’t get in your car seat, then we won’t be going to swimming class.”

It was the classic parenting punishment ultimatum. The kind I swore I’d avoid! And the second it came out of my mouth, I could feel it: I was dysregulated.

He eventually climbed into his seat. Then he looked at me with those big eyes and said,

“Mama, don’t yell at me again. I didn’t like that.”

Oof. It stopped me cold. I could feel my heart in my stomach.

My first instinct was to defend myself, to say, “I didn’t yell! I wasn’t yelling, I was just being firm!”

But in that moment, I had to pause and remember what I teach every single day: it’s not about my intention, it’s about his experience.

The Repair

He felt yelled at. That’s what mattered.

So I took a breath and said, “You’re right, bud. I’m sorry. I should have used a calmer voice. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He softened right away. We put on his favorite song, Pink Pony Club, and by the time we pulled out of the driveway, we were okay again.

That’s what repair looks like — not perfection, not never losing your cool, but coming back into connection.

The Inner Child Layer

That moment stayed with me. Because my inner child still panics when I mess up.

She whispers, “You’re a bad mom. You did it wrong. He’s going to have the same wounds you did.”

It’s such a common experience—that fear of repeating what we came from. But I reminded myself what I remind my clients:

We are not meant to be perfect parents. We are meant to be parents who apologize, take accountability, validate your child’s experience, and always repair with them.

What Healing Looks Like

Healing doesn’t mean you’ll never get dysregulated or raise your voice. It means you’ll notice it sooner.

You’ll take responsibility for how your child experiences you. You’ll repair, instead of pretend it didn’t happen.

That’s the privilege of doing this work. You get to break the cycle, not by being flawless, but by being emotionally available enough to say,

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

And every time you do, both your child and your inner child learn that safety and love can coexist, even after a rupture.

Your Reflection Invitation

Think back to a moment when you lost your calm — with a partner, child, or friend.

• What would it feel like to practice repair instead of shame?

• What might you say now that you couldn’t say then?

But why does it hit home for so many of us?

For many, discovering the term Emotionally Immature Parent (EIP) is like putting words to something you’ve felt your whole life. It captures the experience of growing up with a parent who, despite being the adult in the room, couldn’t regulate their emotions or take responsibility for their behavior.

These are the parents who couldn’t attune to your inner world—who may have left you feeling unseen, misunderstood, or emotionally abandoned, especially when you were sad, angry, or in pain.

You might remember the parent who erupted in rage at the smallest thing, leaving everyone walking on eggshells. Or the one who withdrew and gave the silent treatment, forcing you to wonder what you did wrong. Their emotions filled the room, and yours didn’t have space to exist.

When Understanding Isn’t Enough

A question I hear all the time from clients is:

“I know what my parent didn’t give me, but how do I heal if they’ll never change?”

This is where so many people get stuck—the painful realization that insight alone isn’t the same as healing.

You can understand why your parent was emotionally immature and still feel angry, sad, or lost because they won’t ever become the parent you needed.

And this is where the phrase "Emotionally Immature Parent" starts to reach its limit.

The Shift: From Immaturity to Attunement

Your healing isn’t actually about their immaturity. It’s about your experience of emotional mis-attunement—growing up in relationships where your feelings were never met, mirrored, or understood.

The deeper work of healing is learning what emotional attunement feels like.
Because while we can’t control whether your parent changes, we can help you build relationships that do feel safe, responsive, and emotionally available.

What Emotional Attunement Feels Like

An emotionally attuned relationship is one where you can trust that someone will:

• Care about what you feel.

• Offer empathy instead of defensiveness.

• Hold space for your emotions without judgment.

It’s the kind of relationship where you don’t have to hide, over-explain, or earn love through perfection. You simply get to be yourself and still feel seen.

These relationships, whether with a therapist, partner, or friend, become the blueprint for emotional safety and connection.

They help your nervous system learn, “This is what it’s supposed to feel like. This is what I deserved all along.”

If you don’t yet have that sense of safety in your current relationships, therapy can be a powerful starting place. A good therapist’s job is to offer that emotionally attuned relationship, the one your younger self always needed and deserved!

Reflection Prompt

If this is resonating with you today, I invite you to take this a step further and ask yourself:

• Where in your life today do you feel emotionally met?

• And where do you still feel unseen, dismissed, or like you have to shrink to be loved?

These answers will help you understand where you feel safe and seen, while also highlighting the needs that still linger in your relationships.

Let’s not judge any reflections that come up, and remember: it is simply important information about the emotional attunement you have always needed and still deserve.

Beneath your partner's sharp tone, long silence, and built-up resentment lies a younger, more tender part of them, trying to feel seen and heard. Imagine the 7-year-old version of them, sad and angry because nobody understands how they really feel.

The same goes for you.

When we try to improve communication without acknowledging and getting to know these younger parts of ourselves, the same arguments tend to repeat.

I’ll never forget the first big argument my husband and I had in our first year of dating.

While I cannot remember the specifics of the argument topic, I will never forget the way my heart raced and stomach tightened when my then-boyfriend became overwhelmed and began to emotionally withdraw.

This made me so angry!

Why? To put it very simply, my inner child wounds were triggered, and I was terrified he would emotionally abandon me.

And my anger? It triggered his inner child, who had learned to shut down and hide in the presence of anger to find a semblance of safety.

Photo Credit to Alec Kondush, Sculpture “Love” by Alexander Milov

As you can see in the image above, each of us experiences moments when we feel disconnected and unseen by our partners, even as the younger, vulnerable children within us are deeply trying to connect and feel seen.

I have found that many couples lack the tools to understand their partner’s inner child. If you have no idea where to begin, not to worry! I’ve got you.

But first, let’s understand why inner child work is a must in your relationship:

It goes deeper than surface-level communication skills.

I really do love me some “I” statements and active listening; however, these tools do not get to the root of why you or your partner feels abandoned, overwhelmed, or neglected.

It explains the “big reactions.”

When you or your partner has a reaction that seems out of proportion to the issue at hand, it often indicates an inner-child wound being activated. The “big reaction” is often a historic one that needs to be seen with compassion and care.

It allows empathy and relational healing to grow.

When you feel like your partner sees and has deep compassion for your wounded inner child parts, not only will you feel emotionally closer and safer in your relationship, but you will also have more capacity to hold the same space for their wounded inner child parts. This is relational healing!

How asking the inner child questions (below) will deepen your relationship:

You will understand the roots of conflict.

When we begin to understand that our partner’s reactions—like anger, withdrawal, or fear—come from a historic place of protecting themselves to feel most safe, not anything you have done “wrong” in this moment, we can engage from a place of care instead of defensiveness.

You will learn not to take things personally.

Once you understand how to identify and care for your own inner child wounds when you notice a mood shift in your partner—“Are they mad at me?” or “Did I do something wrong?” —and see these reactions as information from a younger, more tender, wounded place they carry under the surface, you are set up for a successful, connected conversation.

*It is important to note that we can understand and have compassion for the roots of someone’s emotional reaction; however, it does not excuse behaviors that are harmful!

You will build deeper compassion and connection.

By sharing your inner-child wounds with your partner, you create a vulnerable environment that feels nurturing and safe. This increases your emotional intimacy and is a surefire way to make your relationship feel warm and cozy.

15 questions to get to know your partner’s inner child

When you and your partner agree to answer these questions, you are taking a beautiful step towards a more emotionally safe relationship where you hold each other’s little self with care.

1. What brought you joy as a child?

2. How did you feel most comfortable expressing yourself as a child?

3. How did your caregivers respond when you were sad, angry, or scared?

4. Were there parts of yourself you felt like you had to hide as a child?

5. What moments from childhood felt especially lonely or overwhelming?

6. What did you most long to hear as a child, but didn’t?

7. When you are upset with me, is there a younger part of you that gets activated? What does that part feel like, and what does it need from me?

8. What do you do to protect yourself when you’re feeling unsafe emotionally?

9. What made you feel soothed as a child when you were having a hard day?

10. What can I do to help you feel soothed when you're emotionally overwhelmed?

11. What fears come up when you are debating whether you will tell me how you really feel about something?

12. What experiences in childhood shaped how you show up in our relationship?

13. When I react in certain ways, does it remind you of any childhood experiences?

14. How can I help you feel safe to be vulnerable with me?

15. How can we both remind each other to show compassion when these tender, younger parts arise?

I invite you to take notes during this conversation! And if you have a partner who might roll their eyes at these questions because they feel a bit too vulnerable or too emotional, validate that feeling! Then, say, “It would really help me to go through these questions. Can you support me in that?”

Maybe you pick one question per day for 15 days—it will make this feel more fun and lighthearted, especially if you have a partner who tends to be more emotionally avoidant.

Which question stands out to you the most? Share in the comments below!

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My intention for the article was grounded in modeling the exact vulnerability I encourage in my clients, and, most importantly, to help you feel less alone in whatever pain you’re holding inside.

However, unsurprisingly, my inner child came out screaming, waking me up at 4 AM the next day, full of anxious fears about who would read the essay, what others would think, or whether we would ultimately feel more alone by telling our story out loud.

Cue the vulnerability hangover!

As I sat with my cinnamon-flavored coffee on the couch the next morning, watching my toddler build a colorful train out of blocks, I took some long, deep breaths and got curious about those middle-of-the-night fears. It took a sec, but I found a way to quell the fears and stop the vulnerability hangover from taking over my weekend.

I know you’ve felt the vulnerability hangover, too. You know that time you shared something very intimate with a friend, then immediately spiraled, wondering if you shared “too much” or if they were judging you when you got home? I totally get it!

No wonder you might avoid being vulnerable with others at all…

If you’re ready to release the inner chaos that ensues when you want to feel close to someone, yet feel scared to get too close, you’re not alone. Stick with me here, I’m going to walk you through the process of dealing with the dreaded vulnerability hangover without letting it scare you back into feeling small.

The Vulnerability Hangover

What is it?

A vulnerability hangover is a sudden rush of shame or regret after exposing your authentic emotions to others. It’s the immediate fear that your authentic self, without the protective masks you learned to wear in order to feel safe with others, will be rejected and abandoned. Yikes! Not a great feeling, huh?

Let me say more about why this happens.

Why Your Brain is Totally Freaking Out

You Learned Vulnerability Was a Threat

If you identify as the “good kid” or a people-pleaser, you have a lifelong experience of adapting and hiding certain parts of yourself in order to feel safely connected to others.

Maybe you had a parent who was quick to anger, or one who withdrew from you with the silent treatment when upset, so you learned to be quiet, small, “good,” and helpful to try and keep their mood regulated. You learned to scan the room for safety and adjust yourself accordingly.

You probably never learned to say what you were really thinking and feeling out loud. It was never modeled for you as something that could feel safe and lead to more connection.

For funsies, let’s play out what it may have sounded like to tell a parent who had anger and rage issues how you felt growing up.

It could have gone something like this:

“Hey Dad, when you explode in anger, it makes me feel incredibly scared and unsafe. I wish you could calm down and just talk about your feelings instead of blowing up. That would make me feel so much more connected to you.”

If the thought of saying something like this makes you laugh because it would never fly with your parent, you learned that your vulnerability was a threat. You learned to fear that being honest could lead to more anger. More abandonment.

And truthfully, we hate that!

How to Squash The Vulnerability Hangover

It’s important to remember that the second you begin to feel the vulnerability hangover, your nervous system is working the way it was always designed to work—to keep you safe. Your healing challenge now is not to take these feelings as truth, but to gently take them in as information about what you and your inner child need in that moment.

Here are the six steps that helped me through:

#1: Ground Your Body

Take those deep, grounding breaths into your belly and exhale. If deep breaths don’t work for you, find a way to engage in gentle movement like stretching or taking a walk.

#2: Repeat This Mantra

I am safe to share my truth. I deserve to be received with care and compassion.

#3: Reach for the Most Compassionate Thought You Can Access

Ask yourself, “How was I being brave in sharing what I did?” Journal on that question. You can even picture yourself as a child and talk to her in a nurturing tone, giving her the reassurance and affirmation she needs.

#4: Remind Yourself that Their Response (Or Lack of One) Is Not Your Responsibility

If someone responds poorly to your vulnerability, or if they do not respond at all, return to #2 and remind yourself that you deserve nothing less than to have your vulnerability received with care and compassion.

If they cannot offer that to you, it is because something is being activated in them, and it is their responsibility to tend to that feeling.

And unfortunately, you will likely have to process the grief for those individuals who do not have the ability to connect with you on the level you deserve.

Find your safe people who make you feel wrapped in a hug, no matter what you share with them.

#5: Remember—Warm & Cozy Relationships Require True Authenticity

I always tell my clients this: the healthiest relationships are not without conflict; they trust in repair. We are human. Our relationships will inevitably have conflict, or at the very least, moments of tension and resentment.

The key to making your relationships feel warm and cozy is the ability to talk vulnerably and honestly about how you feel, without fearing that your truth will end the relationship.

The trust you have in connected conflict, which will inevitably lead to repair, is everything. It’s been one of the most healing aspects of my own journey.

Have you ever had a vulnerability hangover? How did you move through it?

Share below in the comments!

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I squinted my eyes, swearing the shadow I saw was a second line on the pregnancy test.

“Don’t you see it!?” I said to my husband.

“I don’t see anything.”

The very next day, as if an answer to a prayer, the second line appeared—clear, pink, and visible to the naked eye.

Naively, I expressed gratitude that getting pregnant was once again fairly easy for us. It had happened on the first try with my son, and we’d had a fairly uncomplicated pregnancy.

We were thrilled. Our dream of expanding our family was coming to life. My husband and I wondered if this baby might share his September birthday, and how exciting it would be for Michael and his sibling to be just about three years apart.

Three days later, the excitement faded. I felt the cramping and began to miscarry. That’s when I learned the term “chemical pregnancy,” a pregnancy that ends before it can be seen on ultrasound.

Miscarriage had been my greatest fear during my first pregnancy. I remember feeling eternally grateful when that fear never came true. It felt like I had conquered it, left it behind, never to be seen again.

Yet here it was, staring me straight in the face.

I felt surprised and sad, but quickly moved right along, clinging to hope that we could try again. Surely next time the baby would stick.

A few months later, in April, the second line reappeared. Joyfully, we made plans to redecorate the third bedroom and move my husband’s office downstairs. My best friend had found out she was pregnant the month before. We were giddy about being pregnant together and having babies born so close, destined to be second-generation best friends.

Then, over breakfast—pancakes and eggs—I felt the cramping again. This time, I was a week further along. My heart sank as the worst-case scenario returned.

When June came, and another positive second line appeared, I guarded my heart. And once again, a few weeks later, the pregnancy ended just as quickly as it began. I felt numb, desperate to find a way to fix the heartache.

We found a doctor at a local fertility clinic and began testing for recurrent loss. As I stared at the twenty vials that awaited my blood, the kind phlebotomist patted my hand and said softly, “It’s hard, but it will be okay.” His kindness gave me the comfort I desperately needed.

The testing revealed only a slight Vitamin D deficiency, so we were cleared to continue trying to conceive. Lo and behold, in August, the second line returned.

Something about this pregnancy felt different. The lines grew darker more quickly. My HCG numbers were strong. It felt like this was it! Hope began to flicker once again.

But lying in the dark on the cold exam table at six weeks pregnant, I watched as the ultrasound technician searched in silence with a furrowed brow. She couldn’t find a gestational sac in my uterus. I looked at my husband, and in that glance we both knew—fear, confusion, and grief flooded the room.

“I’m so sorry. This is an ectopic pregnancy,” the nurse explained to us afterwards. “Dr. Morris recommends surgery as soon as possible.”

Another loss. This time, surgery. Everything suddenly felt invasive.

I was scared. My husband was scared. Our two-year-old son couldn’t understand why I couldn’t pick him up at bedtime, unaware that any lifting could cause the ectopic pregnancy to rupture and put my life at risk.

When I woke up from surgery the next day, I had an overwhelming urge to go back to sleep. Yes, the anesthesia played a part, but it also marked the beginning of a sadness I’d never felt before.

As a trauma therapist—and, truthfully, a type-A perfectionist who has always used doing to cope with uncomfortable emotions—there is nothing harder than sadness. Because there isn’t much you can do with it besides feel it.

And let me tell you, I tried my very best not to feel it.

Two days post-surgery, I tried to hide my tears as I lay in bed, overwhelmed with grief. Not just for this pregnancy, but for all four losses in nine months.

Luckily, I married a partner who is deeply attuned. He leaned over and gave me the most steady embrace, one that finally let me fall apart.

As the weeks passed, messages popped up on my phone again and again:

“How are you doing?”

I almost responded with, “I’m okay,” but I knew I had to make a conscious choice to be truthful this time.

“To be honest, I’m not doing great.”

And that answer—simple as it was—brought the biggest sigh of relief. It didn’t take away the sadness, but by being honest and real with my loved ones (and now with you), the little girl inside me—the one who always felt like she had to hold everything alone—is healing a little more deeply.

I share this story openly because I know, both personally and professionally, how isolating and traumatic infertility, miscarriage, and recurrent loss can be.

If that’s you, please know that I see you. I see your grief. You are not alone.

I know the twinge in your stomach when another pregnancy announcement crosses your screen. The genuine happiness you feel for others, tangled with the deep sadness you carry for yourself.

I know the sting of every would-be milestone—the due dates that come and go like any other day.

A few weeks post-surgery, after a powerful EMDR session to process the trauma of the ectopic pregnancy, I decided to use an exercise I often share with my clients.

As a therapist who specializes in inner-child work, I invite clients to write letters to their younger selves—to offer comfort, reassurance, and compassion that they didn’t receive at the time. Every time I do this personally, I can see how soothed the younger version of me would feel, knowing what the adult version knows now.

So, I decided to access my future self and visualize her offering comfort to me now. What she had to say brought me to tears:

Dear Megan (35),

I see how much grief, despair, and longing fill your heart right now. Three babies lost, slipping away through your fingertips almost as fast as they came. The stitches near your belly button mark the fourth baby lost because they snuggled into the one place they couldn’t grow safely.

I know you are sad—so very sad—and angry that these babies you wanted so badly are not here with you.

You imagined each one as a sibling to Michael, sharing the room next door, growing up in friendship, teaming up against you and Mike, learning the ins and outs of a safe, connected bond they’d carry long after you’re gone.

What you’re going through isn’t fair. I know you want answers. You want to fix it. You want to scream, “Just do something!” to make the pain go away.

But I want you to know this: your baby will come.

They’re taking longer to get to you than you’d like right now, but they’re on the way. They will arrive safely in your arms, and all the pain that came before will make sense because they wouldn’t be here without all of it.

Every heartbreak. Every tear.

They’re on their way to you. You are their mother.

I love you so much. Hang in there.

Love,
Megan (50)

My heart will hold on to this letter for comfort and hope as we navigate the unknowns ahead.

If you are experiencing a “not fine” moment, please know that you’re seen. You’re allowed to feel it, even when—let’s be honest—it absolutely sucks.

And don’t forget: you can be both fine and not fine at the same time. For me, holding that duality helps. I’m okay, I’m well supported, I’m functioning, I am overwhelmed with gratitude that we have the greatest gift in our son, and I’m honoring the deep grief I carry in the very same breath.

Thank you for being here, and for embracing the real, raw parts of being human with me. I promise to keep saying the hard part out loud—because inner child healing means no longer holding our pain alone.

As a therapist with a presence on Instagram, I’ve started to really notice that posting on the platform often feels like a curated projection that everything is fine, well, and “perfect,” even when it’s not.

I realize, if I am to model for you what it means to continue healing, I have got to walk the walk.

I’ve always been cautious to share personal elements of my life on my Instagram page because, as a therapist, my work is not about me; it is about my clients. As a relational therapist, I know that self-disclosure can be powerful in the therapeutic relationship, only when used to attune to the client.

Having a large platform on Instagram changes the game a bit as I expand to embody the role of therapist, educator, and author. I cannot possibly attune to everyone individually, but I know that my personal story can help many in my community feel seen and less alone.

As I write a book that is part memoir, I am allowing myself to embrace more honesty and authenticity with my community, always with the intention of allowing others to feel comfort and validation in the sharing of my own story.

Substack feels like the right place to do it.

I know you have also likely learned to hold it together, smile through the pain, and pretend you’re okay — because it felt safer than being honest. But eventually, that mask gets heavy.

Not Fine, Thanks is a home for anyone who is tired of pretending. Here, I’ll write about what it means to come back to yourself — to stop managing everyone else’s emotions, to tell the truth about your own, and to remember that being messy, imperfect, and not fine is often the doorway to real healing.

I’ll share reflections, stories, and gentle tools from my work as a trauma therapist, but also from my own life, as someone still learning how to rest, feel, and be real.

This space isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about coming home to yourself. If you’re craving honesty over perfection and connection over composure, I hope you’ll stay awhile. You don’t have to be fine to belong here.

P.S. Hit subscribe to get new reflections straight to your inbox — and if you’re not fine right now, you’re in the right place.

Let’s be real together!

Megan Walsh

My inner child abandonment wounds rose to the surface, wondering, “Am I not important enough to them to be there?” My adult therapist-self would quickly jump in and respond, “Of course you are important to them; however, you need to respect their needs & boundaries for personal health and safety.” This inner dialogue and reframing of my disappointment may come easy to me now; however, it took a lot of practice and self-reflection to get there.

Many of my clients feel stuck in their emotional response. Their thoughts that question their loved one’s feelings about them often keep them in a loop that gradually turns it into, “They must not really care about me.” The next time you experience this feeling, whether it be a friend canceling plans or a family member being unable to show up for you when you need them, remember these tips to help you navigate your emotional response:

Clarify assumptions

Our immediate emotional reactions may lead us to assume someone else’s intent. If we don’t challenge or clarify our assumptions, we are telling ourselves a story that could likely be false! If you are concerned that someone is making a decision due to their feelings about you - ask them! They deserve the space to let you know exactly what is happening in their lives that has informed their decisions.

Understand how your personal history of trauma and anxiety may be influencing your feelings

When you grow up in an environment where a parent was not always present and consistent with your needs, you may experience increased feelings of anxiety in relationships throughout life. When that trauma feels reenacted through someone not being present to you and your needs as an adult, it brings up big feelings! It is important to reflect on how your emotional responses are rooted in your childhood wounds.

Use a Both/And Approach

Your emotions are always valid. When it comes to not taking things personally, it is important to remember that you can feel sad and disappointed that someone is unable to be present in the way you’d like AND understand their needs and boundaries. When you allow those feelings to co-exist, you are honoring the relationship by validating your feelings, while also validating the feelings and needs of your loved one.

Express your needs going forward

It is common to hold in our feelings and needs when we feel hurt by the actions of others; however, it is very important to communicate what we need in the relationship going forward. Here are a few scripts to communicate this effectively:

• I’m sad you won’t be able to make it this time, but I understand. I’d still really like to see you soon. When are you available to hang in the coming weeks?

• I’m feeling disconnected from you lately. It would mean a lot if we could make a plan to reconnect soon.

It is important to state your feelings, then name your needs going forward. This fosters increased connection without ignoring our needs in the relationship.

If you resonate with the above, I want you to also know that you can hold two truths at the same time: that you love and are grateful to your parents AND you recognize the ways in which they fell short.

In this blog, we’ll explore what it means to have experienced emotional neglect in childhood, and the lasting impact it can have on your life as an adult.

Understanding Emotional Neglect

Emotional neglect can easily go unnoticed because it’s often subtle and silent nature. Unlike physical or verbal abuse, emotional neglect is about what doesn’t happen rather than what does.

Emotional neglect occurs when parents or caregivers are physically present, but emotionally absent. They might not engage in meaningful conversations, show affection, or provide comfort when the child needs it. As a result, the child’s emotions go unacknowledged and unvalidated, leading to confusion and a sense of isolation.

Emotional neglect can manifest in many ways. Some common signs of emotional neglectful parenting include:

Lack of Emotional Attunement

Parents fail to recognize, validate, or respond to their child’s emotional cues. The child’s feelings, whether positive or negative, go unnoticed or unaddressed.

Dismissive or Unresponsiveness

Parents may be physically present, but emotionally distant. They may not engage in conversations, provide comfort, or offer affection when needed.

Absence of Emotional Support

Children growing up in an emotionally neglectful environment often lack emotional support, empathy, or guidance in times of distress or achievement.

Ignored Feelings

A parent might dismiss or minimize a child’s feelings and emotions, telling them to “toughen up” or “stop being so sensitive.”

Overly Critical or Demanding

Setting unrealistic or excessive expectations for a child’s behavior or performance, leading to a constant feeling of not measuring up.

The Impact of Emotional Childhood Neglect

In many situations, caregivers don’t realize they are neglecting their child’s emotional needs. However, childhood emotional neglect can have significant and lasting impacts on a person’s emotional well-being.

Emotional neglect in childhood can lead to:

Emotional Struggles

Children who experience emotional neglect often find it challenging to identify, express, and manage their emotions. This can lead to difficulties connecting with others and forming healthy relationships, along with experiencing increased levels of anxiety and depression.

Low Self-Esteem

The absence of emotional support and validation can result in low self-esteem and self-worth issues. Individuals may doubt their own value and constantly seek validation from external sources.

Difficulty With Boundaries

Emotional neglect can make it hard for individuals to establish and maintain healthy emotional boundaries. They may become overly accommodating or struggle to assert themselves in relationships.

Relationship problems

Adults who experienced emotional neglect in childhood may have difficulty forming and maintaining intimate relationships. They may fear vulnerability and have trouble trusting others.

Healing from Emotional Neglect

If you find that you have difficulty forming intimate, vulnerable relationships with others, it might be time to find a therapist that you connect with to work through experiences of emotional neglect. It is SO possible to find greater ease and comfort in identifying and expressing your feelings to others in a way that feels safe & secure.

Understanding Ambiguous Grief

Ambiguous grief refers to the complex and often unclear emotions that come after a loss that’s not easily defined or recognized by societal norms. Unlike more conventional forms of grief, (such as the death of a loved one), ambiguous grief happens where the loss is uncertain or not readily acknowledged by others.

What makes ambiguous grief challenging is the lack of societal recognition and validation that comes with it. This can leave individuals feeling isolated and struggling to make sense of their emotions. It’s important to acknowledge that grief is an individual process, and understanding and validating these less visible forms of loss is crucial.

What Can Lead to Ambiguous Grief

What might cause you to experience ambiguous grief? Here are 3 common examples:

Friendship Loss

When a friendship dissolves, it is often a silent loss. Unlike romantic relationships or the loss of a family member, the end of a friendship is often met with societal expectations to quickly move on. However, this is easier said than done. The pain of losing a friend can be profound and leave a void that takes time to understand and accept.

To navigate the ambiguity of friendship loss, you have to acknowledge the grief and allow yourself to mourn the connection that once was. It’s important to recognize that the end of a friendship is a valid reason to grieve, and the emotional impact can be just as significant as other forms of loss.

Break-Ups with Ambiguity

Romantic relationships are inherently intense. Between the passionate emotions and intertwined lives, when a romantic relationship ends, the grief can feel all-encompassing. But what about the grief that arises when a connection isn’t easily categorized as a romantic partnership or friendship? Ambiguous grief in the context of break-ups can be particularly challenging.

In these situations, you may grapple with the uncertainty of your emotions, questioning if your grief is valid. It’s important to acknowledge the complexity of these feelings, understanding that love and loss exist on a spectrum. Processing ambiguous grief from a break-up involves recognizing the impact the relationship had, even if it doesn’t fit conventional molds.

Family Estrangement

One of the most often silenced forms of ambiguous grief is that of family estrangement. Whether it happens due to irreconcilable differences or a gradual drifting apart, the loss of connection with family members can be extremely isolating. Society often places a heavy emphasis on the importance of family, which makes an estrangement even more challenging to navigate.

Those experiencing family estrangement may find themselves caught between conflicting emotions, mourning the loss while also grappling with guilt or societal expectations. It’s crucial to validate these feelings and seek support, recognizing that healing from family estrangement is a process that requires time, self-reflection, and sometimes professional assistance.

Navigating Ambiguous Grief

The path to healing from ambiguous grief is as unique as our relationships. It involves acknowledging the pain, allowing yourself to grieve, and seeking support when needed. Whether mourning the end of a friendship, navigating the complexities of a break-up, or facing the challenges of family estrangement, understanding that your grief is valid is the first step toward healing.

Anxiety affects nearly everything about us–our thoughts, emotions, physical sensations, and more. This unwelcome exchange between our minds and bodies can leave us feeling unsettled, on edge, and constantly looking for relief.

As we search for a solution, understanding the mechanisms underlying anxiety is critical. Although there are many factors that lead to anxiety, this blog will focus on a physiological element that is an important piece of the puzzle; the vagus nerve.

Understanding the Vagus Nerve

The vagus nerve originates in the brainstem and travels throughout the body. It influences many bodily functions and plays an important role in regulating the autonomic nervous system (which controls our body’s involuntary responses). From heart rate and digestion to the stress response, the vagus nerve is an essential component that links our brain to our body.

When activated, the vagus nerve acts like a built-in relaxation switch, prompting a decrease in heart rate and has a calming effect on our body’s physiological reactions to stress.

The Vagus Nerve & Anxiety

Anxiety often triggers our body’s fight-or-flight response, flooding us with stress hormones and heightening our physiological arousal. This is where the vagus nerve comes in, countering this response by initiating relaxation and calmness.

When the vagus nerve is activated, it prompts a lower heart rate, calmer breathing, and reduces the production of stress hormones. Conversely, a less active or under-stimulated vagus nerve can lead to heightened anxiety responses and difficulty in regulating emotions.

How to Stimulate the Vagus Nerve to Reduce Stress

Understanding the vagus nerve’s role in anxiety can help you use it to your advantage. Here are techniques to stimulate the vagus nerve and promote physiological relaxation within your body:

Deep Breathing Exercises

Controlled, deep breathing techniques can activate the vagus nerve, promoting relaxation and reducing anxiety responses.

Singing & Humming

The act of vocalizing, whether through singing or humming, involves the use of various muscles in the throat. This engagement of muscles may contribute to vagal stimulation. The vagus nerve has branches that innervate muscles in the throat and vocal cords.

Mindfulness and Meditation

Practices that focus on mindfulness and meditation can boost what’s called “vagal tone.” This term refers to the strength and efficiency of the vagus nerve’s activity. When the vagus nerve is stronger and more effective, it can help regulate and reduce anxiety levels over time.

Yoga

Certain yoga poses and practices, particularly those involving deep breathing and gentle stretches, can stimulate the vagus nerve. Poses like Child’s Pose, Cat-Cow, and Corpse Pose can be especially beneficial.

Creative Expression

Engaging in creative activities like painting, drawing, sculpting, or any form of artistic expression can induce a relaxation response, indirectly stimulating the vagus nerve.

Holistic Approaches to Anxiety Management

While understanding the vagus nerve’s role in anxiety offers promising avenues, it’s important to note that anxiety disorders are complex, with multifaceted origins. A holistic approach that combines understanding the mind-body connection, lifestyle modifications, and personalized therapeutic strategies is often key in managing anxiety effectively.

This happened to me during my first experience singing in a large choir when I was 14 years old. I remember feeling so overcome with emotion, joy, and connection as my voice blended into the beautiful embrace of hundreds of other voices around me. I remember wanting to stay in that moment forever.

This state of complete focus and engagement is called flow.

Understanding Flow

Flow is something that has fascinated psychologists (founded & researched by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi ), artists, athletes, and other professionals for decades. When you’re in flow, productivity soars, creativity blossoms, and time loses meaning.

So how do you know if you’re in flow? It’s usually characterized by seven main features:

1. Intense Focus: During flow, you are entirely immersed in your activity—to the point where you may lose awareness of everything around you. You are entirely focused and concentrated on what you are doing at that moment.

2. Loss of Self-consciousness: In the flow state, you’re less aware of your own self and ego. You aren’t caught up with concerns about how you appear to others or how you’re performing; you’re simply “in the moment.”

3. Clear Goals and Feedback: Flow often occurs when you have a clear understanding of your goals and receive immediate feedback about your progress. This feedback loop helps to maintain focus and motivation.

4. Effortless Action: Although you are deeply engaged in the activity, the work feels effortless. Your skills and abilities are perfectly matched to the task, making it feel natural and enjoyable.

5. Altered Sense of Time: Flow experiences can distort your perception of time. Hours may feel like minutes, or time can seem to stand still.

6. Intrinsic Motivation: Flow is typically driven by intrinsic motivation—the sheer joy and satisfaction of doing the activity itself—rather than external rewards or pressures.

7. Deep Enjoyment: People often report a heightened sense of enjoyment and satisfaction when in flow. It’s a pleasurable and fulfilling state of being.

Flow & Wellness

Flow is not only valuable for enhancing productivity and performance, but also for overall happiness and well-being. Cultivating activities and environments that promote flow can lead to increased creativity, improved problem-solving skills, reduced stress, and a greater sense of fulfillment in life.

Anxiety typically goes hand in hand with fear. When fear is present, we tend to do one of the following things: get mad, run away, or feel stuck. Anxiety lives in the body, making us feel a racing heartbeat, queasy stomach, & tense muscles.

How do we typically cope with these anxious symptoms? We tend to distract (i.e. Netflix), numb (i.e. wine), or react (i.e. lashing out at loved ones). These coping strategies may offer us some relief in the short term; however, our anxiety is likely to strengthen as a result.

When we’re in an anxious state, we don’t feel a sense of control. How do we get that control back?

Many clients do not believe me when I tell them that befriending their anxiety will give them the control they’re seeking. Trust me, it is an incredibly effective method for reducing feelings of overwhelm and fear.

Are you ready to befriend your anxiety? Here are 4 simple steps to get there:

1. Give your anxiety a name

   I know, it might feel strange at first, but by naming your anxiety, you externalize it from your sense of self. This allows you to examine and engage with your anxiety from a more objective point of view.

2. Ask, “How is my anxiety serving me?”

   Your anxiety is there for a reason. As humans, anxiety serves an evolutionary purpose to avoid danger and seek safety. Most often, your anxiety originated in childhood as a means to protect yourself and get your needs met. If you’re a perfectionist or people pleaser, your anxiety serves as a motivator for you to take action and minimize conflict, which increases feelings of safety and security.

3. Ask, “What does my anxiety need?”

   Most often, our anxiety is a symptom that we are seeking validation, connection, control, and security. When we connect to these underlying needs our anxiety is communicating to us, we are more likely to experience self-compassion. In operating from a place of empathy instead of fear, we can learn to rewire our brain to flag anxiety as information, rather than a threat.

4. Find Acceptance

   I tell my clients that our goal is not to eliminate anxiety; rather, it’s to more compassionately coexist with our anxiety’s presence. Think of your anxiety like a younger version of yourself that simply needs a hug and someone to tell them, “I know you’re scared, but you’ll be okay. I’m here for you.”

5. Bonus tip: Write a letter from the perspective of your anxiety to yourself.

When you implement these four strategies, you will have a new understanding and relationship with your anxiety. By accessing compassion and acceptance, you can reframe your experience & find comfort in your anxiety. Remember, anxiety gives us important information about what we need!

These are our shadow parts, and while they may seem scary or uncomfortable, they hold incredible power in shaping who we are. So in this blog, we’re exploring why it’s worth diving into these shadowy corners and the benefits that come from tackling them head-on in therapy.

What are Shadow Parts?

Shadow parts are the aspects of ourselves that we tend to suppress, deny, or keep hidden from conscious awareness. These can include our deepest fears, insecurities, unresolved traumas, and other negative emotions or traits that we may find uncomfortable or unacceptable.

Often formed in childhood or as a result of past experiences, these shadow parts lurk beneath the surface, influencing our thoughts, behaviors, and relationships in subtle yet profound ways. While it may be tempting to ignore or suppress these shadow parts, doing so only perpetuates their power over us.

Unacknowledged shadow parts can manifest as destructive patterns or obstacles in our lives, such as self–sabotage, unhealthy patterns of behavior, and interpersonal conflicts. Shadow parts can also contribute to feelings of shame, guilt, and inadequacy, which can hold us back from living a fulfilling life.

How Can Therapy Help?

In the safe and supportive space of therapy, individuals can explore and confront their shadow parts with compassion and understanding. Through techniques such as psychoanalysis, cognitive-behavioral therapy, and somatic experiencing, therapists help clients shine a light on their unconscious patterns and bring them into conscious awareness.

You can think of it like cleaning out your closet. Sure, it might be easier to just shove all the stuff you don’t want to deal with into the back and forget about it. But eventually, that clutter starts to weigh you down. It affects your mood, your relationships, and your overall well-being. Therapy is like pulling everything out of the closet, sorting through it, and deciding what to keep and what to let go of. It’s a messy process, but it’s necessary to create space for growth and healing.

Acceptance

One of the fundamental principles of shadow work is acceptance. Working on your shadow parts in therapy isn’t about fixing yourself or getting rid of the “bad” parts—it’s about accepting yourself exactly as you are, flaws and all. It’s about recognizing that your shadow parts are just as much a part of you as your strengths and talents, and they deserve to be acknowledged and embraced.

Personal Growth and Healing

Working on our shadow parts can lead to profound personal growth and transformation. As we confront and heal past wounds, we gain insight into our behavior and motivations. We develop greater empathy and understanding not only for ourselves, but also for others. By embracing our shadows, we become more whole and authentic individuals.

Improved Relationships

Integrating our shadow parts can enhance our relationships and connections with others. When we are aware of our own vulnerabilities and triggers, we can communicate more openly and honestly with our loved ones. We cultivate deeper empathy and intimacy, fostering healthier and more fulfilling connections.

Exploring Your Shadow Parts

Diving into your shadow parts can seem intimidating, but the beauty of therapy is that you don’t have to go it alone. Your therapist is there to guide you through the process, offering support, empathy, and insight every step of the way. Together, you can shine a light on those shadowy corners of your psyche and learn to navigate them with courage and compassion.

As a therapist, I’ve seen it all – the avoidance, the deflection, and the outright denial when it comes to confronting difficult topics in relationships. But here’s the truth: those hard conversations? They’re critical to fostering healthy and connected relationships.

In this blog, we’re going to explore why having those difficult conversations is essential to building healthy relationships.

Avoiding Hard Conversations

Now, I get it. Hard conversations are called hard for a reason. Whether you’re addressing a partner’s behavior, talking to a family member about boundaries, or confronting a friend about a hurtful statement, you might worry about hurting their feelings, making things worse, or maybe even risking the entire relationship.

But here’s the thing: avoiding those conversations doesn’t make the issues go away. In fact, it usually makes them fester and grow, until they explode in a mess of resentment, anger, and misunderstanding.

Why Hard Conversations Are Crucial for Healthy Relationships

Let’s explore why hard conversations lead to healthier relationships:

They Foster Honesty and Authenticity

When you’re able to speak openly and truthfully about your thoughts, feelings, and needs, you’re laying the foundation for genuine connection. Sure, it might be uncomfortable at first, but trust me, the relief that comes from getting everything out in the open is worth it.

They Build Trust

When you’re willing to tackle tough topics head-on, you’re showing your partner that you value transparency and openness in the relationship. And when they see that you’re not afraid to address the elephant in the room, they’re more likely to feel secure and supported.

They Allow for Growth and Understanding

When you’re able to listen to your partner’s perspective with an open mind and empathetic heart, you create space for empathy, compassion, and compromise. You might not always see eye-to-eye, but by engaging in these difficult discussions, you’re learning how to navigate conflict in a healthy and productive way.

How to Have a Difficult Conversation

So now that we’ve talked about the importance of having difficult conversations, how do you actually go about starting the conversation? Here are a few things I do when preparing to have a difficult conversation:

Mentally Prepare

Take some time to prepare yourself for the conversation. Anticipate potential reactions and emotions, and remind yourself of the importance of the discussion.

Choose the Right Time and Place

Find a good time and private place where you can talk openly without distractions or interruptions.

Use “I” Statements

Frame your thoughts and feelings using “I” statements to express your perspective without placing blame. For example, say “I feel hurt when...” instead of “you always make me feel...”

Actively Listen

Practice active listening by giving the other person your full attention. Allow them to express their thoughts and feelings without interrupting, and demonstrate understanding by paraphrasing and reflecting back what they’ve said.

Focus on Solutions

Instead of dwelling solely on the problem, work together to find constructive solutions or compromises that address the issues at hand. Finding common ground can help foster understanding and collaboration.

Be Open to Feedback

Be open-minded and receptive to feedback from the other person. Use their input as an opportunity for growth and learning.

Strengthen Your Relationships

I know that having these hard conversations isn’t easy. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of uncomfortable discussions both in my personal life and in my therapy practice. But here’s what I’ve learned: the more you practice having these conversations, the easier they become. And considering the payoff is a deeper, more meaningful connection with your partner, it is more than worth it.

So, next time you find yourself avoiding a difficult topic, take a deep breath and lean into the discomfort. Remember that hard conversations are the key to building healthy, connected relationships. And if you need a little extra support along the way, I’m always here to help.

In this episode of Good Girls Gotta Heal, Megan sits down with Shauna, a mother, entrepreneur, singer-songwriter, and author of the national bestseller You Are the Boss of You. Shauna shares her remarkable journey from being diagnosed with multiple autoimmune conditions to founding the wellness company, Alaya Naturals, all before the age of 40.

Together, Megan and Shauna explore the profound connection between emotional expression, creativity, and healing. From rediscovering the freedom of authentic self-expression through singing to confronting long-held fears and challenging family dynamics, Shauna reveals how embracing discomfort, uncertainty, and even anger can become powerful tools for transformation.

Listeners will learn how to:

• Recognize the difference between performing for approval and authentically expressing themselves.
  
  

• Unlock emotional freedom by embracing vulnerability, rage, grief, and joy.
  
  

• Navigate hard conversations with compassion and clarity.
  
  

• Use curiosity and creativity as pathways to personal growth and healing.
  
  

• Apply practical tools from Shauna’s book to soften perfectionism, set boundaries, and advocate for your own well-being.
  
  

This episode is for anyone ready to step into the unknown, trust themselves, and take the next best step toward living a freer, more embodied life.

Connect with Shauna

Grab a copy of her book, You Are the Boss of You

Follow her on Instagram

Check out everything she has going on via her website. 

Connect with Megan

Follow Megan on IG 

Learn more about how to work with Megan here!

Download Megan's FREE 8 episode private podcast "Healing Starts Here"

So many of us grew up holding family secrets — unspoken pain, conflict swept under the rug, or emotions we were told to hide. What we didn’t realize is that secrecy doesn’t just disappear; it lodges in the body, fuels anxiety, and keeps our nervous system on high alert.

In this episode of Good Girls Gotta Heal, Megan  talks with transformational life and business coach, Cari Rose, about how carrying secrets shapes the way we show up in our lives and relationships. She unpacks the connection between secrecy and trauma, and why speaking truth — in safe, aligned ways — can be profoundly healing.

You’ll hear how nervous system regulation and spiritual alignment can support you in releasing what’s been hidden, so you can feel more whole, authentic, and at peace.

This is an invitation to stop carrying what was never yours to hold — and to discover that truth doesn’t destroy connection. It opens the door to real healing.

Connect with Cari

Follow her on Instagram

Check out her website

Join her in Wholly Shift starting September 15th using code: HEAL111

Connect with Megan

Follow Megan on IG 

Learn more about how to work with Megan here!