By Stela a Self-Reg in Early Childhood Development & Self-Reg Leadership in Schools Alumni
For as long as I can remember, my motto was, “Life is a storm—hold tight and gear up.”
I’m not sure exactly where it came from, but it shaped my childhood and carried into adulthood, just wrapped in softer words with age. Deep down, though, the message was always the same:
Push harder.
Try harder.
Keep going.
No matter how difficult things got, my solution was to push through.
At first, it seemed to work. I’d start motivated, give it everything I had, and climb with everything in me. But inevitably, the climb would get too steep, and I’d crash—completely overwhelmed, shutting down, unable to move forward.
It’s only now that I understand what was really happening—and the same pattern, repeating itself over and over again. It wasn’t about motivation, willpower, or lack of effort. It was about stressors—building up quietly, unnoticed, until my brain had no choice but to protect itself by shutting down. I ignored them and kept going. I don’t know how many times I climbed to an intolerable peak only to crash again in different areas of my life: studies, work, relationships. And the worst part? I thought that was normal.
Then something changed.
I began my Self-Reg journey—Dr. Stuart Shanker’s five-step framework for understanding and responding to stress in ways that support resilience and well-being. It gave me a new lens; a way to see things differently. I learned to:

- Reframe the signs of stress
- Identify stressors across five domains—biological, emotional, cognitive, social, and prosocial
- Reduce those stressors where possible
- Reflect on my brain-body states—noticing shifts in energy, tension levels, and how those internal states were affecting my mood, thoughts, and actions
- Restore—finding personalised ways to recharge before I reached a breaking point
I started recognising the stressors around me for what they really were—not threats to fight, but cues to notice, understand, and respond to. Instead of putting on armour and pushing harder, I began to see, feel, and understand my stressors. I started noticing patterns—what drained me and what restored me. I found ways to soften the impact before I hit the peak, before I crashed.
I had a meeting scheduled at 3:30 p.m.—a time I’ve since learned is tough for me because my energy is usually running on empty by then. Over time, I had started using a few strategies to help refill my energy tank before late-afternoon meetings—things that usually helped me show up feeling more steady and present. But one particular meeting stands out. Despite having used those supports beforehand, I realised in the moment that they weren’t enough. I needed something more.
The lead on the project—someone responsible for guiding the direction and decision-making—was insisting on her way of doing things. The old me would have instantly read her tone as a challenge; a stressor that triggered my automatic reaction to go into put-your-armour-on mode, ready to argue. But something clicked.
I paused. I noticed what was happening in my body—the tension, the drop in energy—and recognised that I was stressed. And then I began to wonder about her stressors too: the pressure of leading, tight deadlines, and the challenge of getting everyone on the same page. Because I paused and noticed both her stressors and mine, I was able to respond differently.
That small shift didn’t just change the conversation—it changed our entire relationship.
For me, that was a powerful realisation. Recognising stressors changed everything. It gave me what Self-Reg calls “soft eyes”—a term used by Susan Hopkins to describe a more compassionate and curious way of seeing others and ourselves. That shift in perspective helped me meet moments of tension with understanding rather than judgment or reactivity.
I learned that life isn’t about pushing harder or toughing it out. It’s about recognising the stressors that drain your energy, and giving yourself space to breathe before things spiral.
Transitioning through those states becomes easier once you can recognise your stressors.
Now, when I face moments of challenge, I pause. I no longer rush in with armour and fight; instead, I respond with care and restoration. I’m learning that I don’t have to push through every storm.
Sometimes, it’s okay to pause, breathe, and dance with it instead.






2 Comments
Sounds familiar. I could relate to this scenario.
Thanks for your comment! What really resonated with you here? I would love to hear more.
Aviva