Dear Wild Soul:
I want to share something personal: last week, I found myself in a conversation with someone I deeply care about — and the first thing I noticed wasn’t a thought. It was my body.
My stomach tightened just a little. My breath moved higher into my chest. My shoulders lifted without me realizing it. My jaw clenched — that tiny, familiar click I’ve known for years. And my heart… not racing, but quicker. Alert.
I felt myself lean forward energetically — as if I needed to get ahead of the moment. As if being one step in front would keep me safe. As if guiding the outcome was the only way to stay steady.
None of this looked like panic on the outside.
On the outside, I sounded calm — even confident.
But inside, there was a subtle, buzzing urgency. A quiet intensity. A sense that if I didn’t shape this moment, something might slip out of my hands.
This is exactly how control works. Those of us who’ve lived through experiences that overwhelmed our sense of safety often unconsciously recreate familiar scenarios — not out of self-punishment, but from a deep neurological drive to predict, prepare for, and master outcomes. The way our brain operates is driving us here. We need a resolution, the puzzle to be finally solved in a way that we most desire.
Each repetition, each relational pattern is the brain’s way of saying: I want to protect myself. I want to survive. I want my way.
Here’s the tricky part: when we’re operating from old survival patterns, intensity shows up in unexpected ways. We may feel calm. We may believe we’re being reasonable. We may even think we’re grounded or “just being honest.”
But what we often miss is that this is where the ego slips in quietly — the part of us that feels safest when steering, shaping, or knowing. The part that assumes, I’m right. I’m clear. I’m grounded. When really, our nervous system is dysregulated… we’ve just lived with that state for so long it feels like home.
The paradox is that this internal drive to control often undermines the very thing it seeks: connection.
It turns love into something you have to manage or negotiate, instead of something you get to relax into.
It turns genuine curiosity into a strategy — always scanning for clues, reading between the lines, trying to interpret what every word or pause might mean.
And it turns trust into constant vigilance, where you’re never fully present because some part of you is always bracing for what might happen next.
🧡 A Practice for This Week
When you feel that familiar shift in your body:
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The tightening
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The leaning forward
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The breath shortening
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The urgency rising
Pause.
Place a hand on your heart or your belly.
Let your breath drop lower into your body.
Ask yourself gently:
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What am I trying to prevent?
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What fear is underneath this?
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Is this my grounded self… or my history speaking?
(Is it the fear they’ll pull away if you don’t stay “on top of it”? The fear of being misunderstood, dismissed, or seen as “too much”? The fear of not being enough… or being too invested… or caring more than they do? The fear that if you’re not the one holding all the pieces together, everything might fall apart? The fear of losing yourself (again) in someone else’s world. Or that quiet, private fear — the one you barely admit to yourself — that if you stop managing everything, you might finally have to feel what you’ve been busy outrunning?)
Signs to notice:
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Survival/Control State feels tight, urgent, pressured, braced, certain, intense.
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Grounded Self feels open, steady, curious, and willing to let the moment unfold.
Even naming the difference shifts the entire relational experience.
🪞 Reflection for You
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What are the earliest cues in your body that tell you you’re slipping into an old pattern?
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Where do you feel intensity masquerading as certainty or “rightness”?
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What changes when you reconnect with your breath and your body before responding?
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How can you tell if it’s your wounded self or your favorite self leading the moment?
So this is a love letter to the woman who feels the tightening and is brave enough to name it.To the woman who notices her own intensity and realizes the ego is quietly steering. To the woman who has survived and repeated patterns — but is ready to move differently, with presence and power.
You don’t have to be perfect at it. You only have to begin.
With love and gentle strength,
Em
P.S. If you want to get better at recognizing when you’re operating from your wounded self vs. your favorite self, my free mini-course Own Your Life teaches you exactly how to sense the difference. You can start here:
https://www.emilybrownconsulting.com/offers/vG8joKug/checkout
📸 by Pawel Szvmanski on Unsplash
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