Picture this: You’re on the couch, warm cup of coffee in hand, the house is clean, and you have a few quiet hours to yourself—just you and the latest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. You take a deep breath and think, “There’s no way this is real… what did I forget?” The stars have aligned for this rare moment of self-care, and instead of relaxing into it, you get up to double-check everything. The coffee gets cold. The show plays in the background. And you end up beating yourself up for not being able to enjoy it.

If that feels a little too real, let’s go further. Maybe you’ve spent years doing the work: healing burnout, shifting habits, having hard conversations, and finally creating a gentler inner voice. Then your therapist says something like, “You’re doing great—maybe it’s time to pause?” And suddenly the fear rushes in. Pause? What if I lose momentum? What if this doesn’t last?

You’re not alone if peace feels a little like panic. If you’ve spent most of your life striving, fixing, and protecting, calm might register as unfamiliar—and unfamiliar can feel unsafe.You are not broken. Your nervous system is simply learning how to be in the life you worked so hard to create. This blog is going to walk you through why stillness can be uncomfortable—and how to start building safety in the good, one moment at a time.

Why Feeling Safe Can Be a Struggle

The struggle is real! As someone who works with chronic perfectionists, people pleasers, and overdoers, I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it is when someone finally recognizes why they’re so exhausted.

Living at a slower, more personal pace is hard—not because it’s wrong, but because it often feels like you’re swimming upstream. There are both internal beliefs and external pressures working against that calm. Here are a few of the most common drivers I explore with clients:

Hustle Culture & the “Do More” Mentality

The finish line is always moving. There’s always a next level, a better version, another opportunity to optimize. It’s like finishing a marathon and someone immediately asks, “So… you signing up for the next one?” But when do we celebrate? When do we say this is enough? The pressure to keep going is relentless—and we’ve gotten really good at rising to the occasion.

Praise for Performance, Not Peace

Let’s be honest—do we ever get praised for resting? Not really. But there’s plenty of praise for self-sacrifice, achievement, and being the one who holds it all together. It makes sense, then, to wonder: What happens if I stop being busy? Will people still notice me? Still value me?

The Myth of Quantifiable Worth

When your worth feels tied to productivity, being able to list what you accomplished gives you proof you’re “doing okay.” The catch? That bar of “enough” constantly moves. What counted yesterday might not count today. It’s exhausting to chase worthiness when the goalposts keep shifting.

Urgency as a Comfort Zone

Stress has become our favorite motivator. For some, it’s even part of the creative process—“I do my best work under pressure.” But what we often don’t realize is that we’ve trained our nervous systems to feel safe in chaos… and deeply uncomfortable in stillness.

Reflection Prompts: What’s Behind Your Discomfort with Calm?

If rest feels unsettling, you’re not alone. Here are some prompts to help you get curious (without judgment):

• Are there specific memories that come to mind when I think about stillness or slowing down?
• What’s the loudest or most frequent phrase I hear in my mind when I try to relax?
• Have I ever truly considered that I might fear calm?
• Can I recall a time in my life when peace did feel accessible?
• What do I want to believe about rest, relaxation, or doing less?
• Are there people I envy for how easily they seem to rest or recharge?

Take a few minutes this week to jot down your thoughts. Be honest, and above all, be compassionate. These reflections aren’t about blame—they’re about understanding the patterns you’ve been taught to survive in.

Signs You Might Be Bracing for the Bad (Even When Life Is Good)

Our inner perfectionist doesn’t just live in our thoughts—it lives in our bodies, too. When we’re bracing—even during good moments—it often shows up in subtle but powerful ways. These aren’t random quirks. They’re protective patterns, trying to keep us safe.

Here are some common signs you might be bracing, even when there’s no obvious threat:

1. Persistent Physical Tension

You may feel tightness in your shoulders, chest, jaw, or stomach. Bracing in the body tells the brain, “We’re not safe yet.” It becomes a feedback loop—your body can’t relax, so your brain doesn’t either.

2. Hyper-Criticism and Nitpicking

When things feel unfamiliar or “too good,” the perfectionist part of you may go into overdrive. You scan for what’s off, analyze the smallest details, and start editing your experience in real time. It’s a form of self-protection that often comes across as control.

3. Constant Questioning and Interrogation Mode

You start asking yourself, “What’s the catch?” Second-guessing becomes your baseline. You might seek reassurance from others, but struggle to believe anything affirming. Trust feels elusive.

4. Emotional Defensiveness and Drama

Without realizing it, you may start picking fights, rehashing old issues, or emotionally withdrawing. It’s not sabotage—it’s your system trying to feel a sense of control in the unknown.

5. Guilt and Shutdown

Feelings of guilt, shame, or unworthiness creep in. Your nervous system may shift into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. You struggle to stay present because being in the moment feels too vulnerable.

6. Avoiding Joy Altogether

Sometimes the discomfort becomes so intense, you retreat from positive experiences entirely. You may start to believe you don’t deserve ease, or that it’s safer not to feel good at all.

When you’re in this state (in whatever form), you may look aloof, ungrateful, disinterested, or emotionally distant to others—but what’s really happening is that you’re prioritizing perceived safety over connection, joy, or ease.

Next time you’re in a moment of rest or goodness, try asking yourself:

• What part of my body is preparing for something bad to happen?
• What would it feel like to let just 5% more softness in right now?

That awareness is the beginning of healing.

Compassion Check In: You’re Not Doing It Wrong

Before we go any further, let’s take a breath and remember—we’re taking in all of this information with kindness. This isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about understanding what’s happening underneath the surface and offering yourself care as you grow.

Here’s what I want you to hold onto:

• You’re not being dramatic. Your nervous system is adjusting out of survival mode—and that takes time and repetition.
• Your nervous system doesn’t distinguish between good stress and bad stress. That’s why even “happy” moments can feel overwhelming. You’re not broken—you’re learning.
• This isn’t about a 180-degree transformation. You’re building the capacity to experience peace, joy, and ease in doses that feel manageable.
• You don’t have to force joy. This process is about creating internal safety, building new neural pathways, and slowly teaching your body that the good can be safe, too.

Healing isn’t about always feeling calm—it’s about being able to stay with yourself, even in the calm.

Therapist-Recommended Skills for Grounding in the Good

Sitting in the good—without freaking out—takes practice. These are therapist-approved tools you can try when you notice yourself bracing during moments of joy, peace, or ease. Bonus: they work for managing stress too.

1. Call It (Name, Don’t Shame)

Use objective, nonjudgmental language to describe your internal experience—just like symptoms at a doctor’s visit. Try something like:

“I’m aware of a wave of overwhelm.”
“I notice tension in my shoulders.”
“My mind is sending a signal to be cautious.”

Describing it this way gives you space from the experience and helps reduce emotional overload.

2. Microdose Joy

Start small. Let your nervous system build tolerance for positive emotion in brief, manageable moments.
Examples:

• Watch a heartwarming video
• Read a poem
• Sit in the sun for 3 minutes
• Literally stop and smell the roses

It’s not about chasing “high vibes”—it’s about training your system to stay in joy just a little longer each time.

3. Note the Tiny Wins

Celebrate the little milestones, not just the big ones.

• Finishing research? Have a dinner party.
• Folded the laundry? High five.
• Showed up to something that felt hard? Acknowledge it.

Small, consistent celebrations teach your brain to notice what’s working—not just what’s next.

4. Connect to Your Values

When stillness feels uncomfortable, ground into your why.
Ask yourself:

“What value is this rest or joy aligned with?”
“How does this moment support connection, creativity, or wellbeing?”

Values give meaning to moments that might otherwise feel unfamiliar or indulgent.

5. Out Yourself (With Compassion)

When perfectionism or self-doubt creeps in—say it out loud to someone safe.
Try:

“Hey, I’m having a hard time letting myself enjoy this.”
“This feels too easy, and that’s uncomfortable.”

Naming it can reduce shame and invite connection. Plus, it often helps others feel seen too.

6. Mental Rehearsal

Prep your nervous system before doing something fun or new.
Visualize:

• What discomfort might show up
• What you’ll say to yourself when it does
• Which skill (like grounding, breathwork, or positive self-talk) you’ll use to support yourself

Think of it like a dress rehearsal for feeling good—you’re building emotional muscle memory.

You Deserve to Feel Good Without Bracing for Impact

Rest, relaxation, and contentment are things we often say we want—but when they finally show up, it’s not always easy to receive them. Our most protected parts may struggle to settle into ease, not because we’re ungrateful or doing it wrong, but because safety in stillness is a new skill.

The discomfort you feel? It’s not a red flag—it’s a sign that you’re doing life differently. And that is the work of building a kinder, more grounded existence.

With a little practice, you can begin experiencing the good without the spiral. You can build a life where ease doesn’t feel like a threat—but like home.

Want help creating space for ease that actually feels safe?
The Nine to Kind Possibility Planner was designed for exactly this. Check it out in the shop—your future self will thank you.