When Regulation Becomes Another Way to Suppress

It is always fascinating to me to witness how easily things can be misunderstood, misinterpreted, or simplified, knowingly or unknowingly, once they reach a wider public. This is the power of communication: ideas can travel to distant, unimaginable places. But sometimes, they travel at the cost of depth, substance, and factuality.

I sense this is what has been happening with the relatively new wave of nervous system regulation, embodiment, and somatic practices. Only a few years ago, it was rare to hear people casually speaking about the nervous system, the vagus nerve, the sympathetic and parasympathetic branches, activation, regulation, or embodiment. Many Eastern cultures and traditions, of course, have long understood the body as a source of awareness, transformation, and healing. But in many Western contexts, these words and concepts have only recently entered everyday language. Now, they seem to be everywhere (I guess that's what happens through cultural capitalism). And in many ways, this is beautiful. It means more people are expanding their understanding of the body beyond a purely physical or clinical lens. Beyond “I hurt my leg,” “I injured my arm,” “I strained my back.” The body is beginning to be understood as a place of emotion, memory, intelligence, protection, communication, and wisdom.

And yet, something concerns me. A rather simplistic, and often inaccurate, narrative has started to form around what it means to have a “regulated” nervous system. I often hear regulation being understood as calm. As if regulating your nervous system means making yourself calm. And I say this with care, because I have made this mistake too. For a while, regulation became another way of forcing my body into a state of calm because I could not bear to stay with my anxiety. It became another strategy for suppressing, hiding, and controlling the natural flow of my emotions.

Feeling anxious before speaking up? “Calm yourself down, Martina.”

Feeling restless before an interview? “Do box breathing. 1, 2, 3, 4. Not working? Try again. 1, 2, 3, 4.”

Feeling agitated for no clear reason? “Come on, take a deep breath. There is nothing to worry about.”

And the more I tried, the worse it became. Which led me to wonder:

Why am I not feeling better? Why is this not working?

Over time, I began to understand that I was re-enacting an old wound. A pattern where, in order to get through something, I had learned to force myself through it.

To fight.

To push.

To hold myself tightly.

Not working? Push harder.

Still nothing? Hold on even tighter.

What never came to me as a possible answer was this: surrender.

Surrendering to the emotion.

Letting it be there.

Letting it move.

Letting it flow through me, as uncomfortable as it might feel.

Allowing the magnificent wave of activation and completion of an emotion to happen, without constantly interrupting its natural rhythm.

And slowly, I began to understand something different. To regulate does not mean to calm down. To regulate means to give space. To allow. To welcome. To notice the clenched jaw. To make room for the tight belly. To acknowledge the shallow breath. To presence the parts of us that are trying to speak through sensation.

Only then could those emotional states begin to complete themselves. And slowly, very slowly, the parts of my body that had been bracing, holding, and protecting could begin to soften. Not because I forced them to. But because they were finally met.

So, to sum up: regulating your nervous system does not mean shifting your response into the one that feels the most pleasant or comfortable. Sometimes, trying to do that only tightens the body even more, because it sends the message that it is not safe to feel what is already here. Instead, regulation begins with meeting yourself where you are.

Naming that you are out of breath.

Naming that your heart is pounding.

Naming that your legs are shaking.

Naming that your belly feels tight.

So your body can begin to feel that it is safe enough to be as it is.

And only then, from that place of contact, can you slowly begin to reach for different resources within you. A breath. A movement. A wider sense of ground. A different state may come, but not through force. Through connection.

And I am not saying this is easy. It is definitely not as linear as these words may make it sound. It requires trial and error. It requires time. A lot of it. I am still learning too. And there is no final destination where you suddenly “reach regulation” and you are done. This is a life practice.

Life will always find its own beautiful ways of testing our capacity.

That is how we grow.

And that is also, dare I say, part of the beauty of being imperfectly human.

Martina,

The Grounding Field