Held: For the woman who’s done holding it all.

Before we dive deep, we need to begin with the foundation: your nervous system. Why the nervous system when we're talking about healing physical symptoms, birth, and mothering? Well, if you don’t feel safe in your own body, it’s nearly impossible to feel safe in birth, in motherhood, or in your relationship with God. What We’ll Cover: What is the nervous system, really? A simple explanation of how your body responds to stress, fear, safety, and connection, especially in pregnancy and birth. The three states you cycle through daily (fight/flight, freeze/fawn, and safe/social) and how to recognize where you’re operating from most of the time. Why your body isn’t betraying you, even when it feels like it. The nervous system is trying to protect you. We’ll learn how to partner with it instead of fighting it. Nothing you're doing it bad!  Why “regulating” your nervous system matters - not just for trauma healing, but for your ability to receive love, set boundaries, and rest in God’s presence. The Heart of It: You can’t think your way into peace. You have to feel safe first. This module is the beginning of returning to that safety, not through hustle, self-help, or “trying harder”, but through restoration.  By the end of this week , you’ll not only understand your nervous system, you’ll begin building a new relationship with it. One rooted in trust, gentleness, and truth.

Download the Workbook, print it out, and track that progress over the next 6 weeks! Download it now. 

1. 20 Minutes with the Lord Rosary, silence, journaling, or Scripture. It doesn’t have to look a certain way, it just has to be real. Give Him the first fruits, or the quiet at the end of the day. 2. Outside Time (30–45 Minutes) Sunlight, fresh air, dirt under your nails, or your hands in the weeds. Even if it’s just letting your bare feet touch the earth or moving slowly through your yard, your body was made to connect with creation. Let nature regulate you when nothing else can. 3. Eat Like You’re Worth Nourishment Three real meals. Warm, nourishing, unprocessed as often as possible. It’s about remembering that your body is good and worthy of care. Eat like you’re God’s beloved… because you are. 4. Daily Reflection & Journaling Each night, write down what your body felt, what your heart carried, and where you saw God. Especially: What are you grateful for? Because if you only had tomorrow what you thanked Him for today, you’d want to notice it all. 5. Sleep + Wake at Hours Create a rhythm that tells your body it’s safe. Wake and sleep at consistent times so your nervous system doesn’t have to guess when it’s  allowed to rest. Your body isn’t lazy. It’s asking for order, for peace, for rhythm.

If you’ve felt like no amount of supplements, schedules, or self-care touches the deep exhaustion inside, you're not alone. What you’re experiencing isn’t because you’re lazy, broken, or lacking discipline. It’s because your nervous system is doing exactly what God designed it to do: protect you.  When safety has been unpredictable—whether through birth trauma, chronic stress, childhood dynamics, or spiritual wounding, your body learns to live in survival states. You might fawn, freeze, flee, or fight without even realizing it. And the constant striving to “get it right,” “stay in control,” or “not be a burden” becomes your unconscious way of trying to stay safe. This week, we’re diving into the Polyvagal Theory, a science-backed framework for how your nervous system detects safety or threat. But we’re not stopping there, we’re going to look at it through a Catholic lens, inviting God into the healing process. Because your symptoms aren’t a sign of failure. They’re a signal and they’re leading us to the deeper restoration your heart has been craving.

Polyvagal Theory teaches us that the nervous system is always scanning for cues of safety or danger, even when we’re not conscious of it. This is called neuroception. It's not something you think, but it's something you feel, deeply and instinctively. When your body senses threat, it shifts into sympathetic activation (fight or flight) or dorsal vagal shutdown (freeze or fawn). These states help you survive, but over time, they can become your default, even in situations that are actually safe now. You might feel: Constantly on edge, needing to control everything Numb, checked out, or disconnected from your body or loved ones Easily overwhelmed or triggered by things others seem to handle just fine Exhausted from “doing all the right things” and still feeling off Through a purely secular lens, the solution is regulation - getting back to ventral vagal, the state of calm connection. As daughters of God, we know that safety isn’t just physiological. It’s spiritual. True safety comes from being seen, known, and loved by God and When we restore our relationship with Him as our ultimate safe place, healing flows into every level of the nervous system. We begin to rest, not just physically, but spiritually. So yes, breathwork, cold exposure, co-regulation, and somatics help. But, what truly regulates your nervous system is belonging to a Father who never abandons you.

Your nervous system isn’t broken. It’s responding exactly how it was shaped to respond based on your past experiences. But now it’s time to reshape it, with intention, compassion, and the safety of God’s presence. This page will help you create your own Safety Blueprint: a personalized map of what calms, anchors, and brings you back to a regulated state. Step 1: Recognize Your Stress Signs What does your body do when you’re not safe? Think: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Look for physical, emotional, and behavioral signs. I know I’m dysregulated when I… Physically: Emotionally: Spiritually: In relationships: Step 2: Remember What Feels Safe What helps you feel grounded, supported, and safe? These can be big or small things that help you return to your body and to God. People who feel safe to be around: Places that help me breathe easier: Phrases or Scriptures that anchor me: Physical tools or practices that calm me (e.g., water, movement, music): Times when I felt truly held by God: Step 3: Build Your Blueprint Now pull it together. Imagine a day where everything feels too much. What steps can you take to return to safety with God? Example: “First I splash cold water on my face, then I go outside. I put my hand on my heart and whisper, ‘Be still and know.’ Then I journal or cry with the Lord.” When I feel overwhelmed, I will: . Step 4: Anchor It in Truth Finish this sentence prayerfully: “When I forget I’m safe, I will remind myself that…”

You didn’t wake up one day and decide to carry everything. It just kind of.. happened. Little by little, you picked it all up: The meals. The schedules. The emotions. The “What’s for dinner?” and the “Mom, where’s my socks?” The guilt. The responsibility. The pressure to be everything for everyone. For a while, you could handle it, because you’re strong. You figure things out. You get it done. At some point, it stopped feeling like strength and started feeling like survival. Here's the part no one really talks about: It’s not just the tasks that are heavy. It’s the constant awareness. The mental load. The quiet ache of never feeling like you can fully exhale. That’s the real exhaustion. That’s what leaves you lying in bed at night, body buzzing, mind racing - even if you “did nothing” all day. Let me say this clearly: You weren’t made to carry it all. Yes, you're capable, but that doesn’t mean you’re called to do it alone. God never asked that of you. That white-knuckle independence? That constant bracing? That’s not how daughters are meant to live. You're allowed to hand some of it back. You're allowed to need. You're allowed to rest. This isn’t about giving up. It’s about letting God in. It’s about letting your body feel safe again so you can stop holding your breath and start actually living. You don’t have to carry it all. You never did.

Hyper-independence looks like strength, but it often comes from a wound. Somewhere along the way, you learned that needing was unsafe, that asking made you a burden, that if you didn’t handle it all yourself, everything might fall apart. So you did. You became the one everyone could count on. You got good at carrying it all, staying calm, showing up, pushing through. Here’s the cost: your nervous system is always slightly on edge, bracing for the next thing. Your body never fully rests. You’re strong, but you’re also tired. Spiritually, hyper-independence convinces you that you can’t trust anyone, not even God. That safety is something you have to create and control, rather than receive. God doesn’t just want your resilience. He wants your surrender. He wants to father you, to hold you, to teach you that safety comes not from doing more, but from being known and loved. Healing isn’t about becoming helpless, it’s about remembering that you don’t have to do it all alone. True strength is rooted in safety, not fear. And when your nervous system finally feels safe, you’ll notice: peace doesn’t mean less responsibility. It just means you don’t carry it all with clenched fists anymore.

Stillness should feel like peace, but for many women, especially the ones who’ve been through (or are going through) something hard, it feels like tension. Like holding your breath. Like waiting for the next shoe to drop. You finally sit down, but your shoulders are tight. Your jaw clenches. Your thoughts race. It’s your body doing what it learned to do: protect you. When life felt unpredictable or unsafe, your nervous system adapted by staying on guard. Now, even when/if things are “fine,” your body doesn’t quite believe it. This is how trauma hides - in those quiet, in-between moments when your body should feel safe but doesn’t. The stillness doesn’t feel like rest. It feels like danger. The work isn’t to force calm, but to gently show your body that it’s safe to soften. Healing starts with noticing the bracing, honoring why it’s there, and learning how to be still without having to be on high alert. Your body is just waiting for permission to stop surviving.

Motherhood and birth don’t just change your schedule - they literally rewire your entire nervous system. During pregnancy, your body is flooded with hormones like oxytocin and progesterone that soften your tissues, open your heart, and prepare your brain to attune deeply to another human. Then birth itself, whether empowering or traumatic, activates the most primal layers of your brain: the brainstem and limbic system, where survival instincts live. That’s why so many women feel hyper-alert, emotionally raw, or anxious after birth. Your nervous system is doing what God designed it to do. To stay attuned to protect this tiny life, but what no one tells you is that without regulation and support, this state of constant vigilance can leave you stuck in sympathetic overdrive: always “on,” bracing, overstimulated, and unable to rest. Birth cracks you open physically and spiritually, and it can also dysregulate you. But that doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your system needs time, safety, and somatic repair. This is why practices like breathwork, co-regulation, and trauma-informed bodywork matter. Because what gets awakened in motherhood isn’t just love - it’s your nervous system asking: Am I still safe now that everything has changed?

Somewhere along the way, many women began to believe that to be “good,” we must give endlessly and expect nothing in return. That receiving help, care, rest, or even affection makes us needy, weak, or selfish. But this is a lie!! It’s a distortion of what it means to love. True love isn’t one-sided. God Himself receives our praise, our trust, our surrender and we were made in His image, which means we’re made to both give and receive. The nervous system actually thrives on reciprocity and on moments of being seen, soothed, and supported. When you always give but never receive, your body reads that as threat. It keeps you in survival mode, guarded, and alone. So if you struggle to rest, ask for help, or let yourself be held, it’s not because you’re selfish. It’s because somewhere deep down, you’ve been taught it’s safer to be self-reliant than to be vulnerable. The Gospel tells another story: that love is not earned, and receiving is not weakness.

When your body has lived in survival mode, especially through seasons like birth, postpartum, grief, or long-term stress and it forgets how to receive what is good. Rest feels lazy. Food becomes fuel, not nourishment. Pleasure feels like a luxury you have to earn. But this is not how God designed you to live. You were made for rhythm, not hustle. For delight, not just duty. Rebuilding these rhythms is not about self-care in a trendy sense - it’s about remembering your humanity. It’s about showing your nervous system that it’s safe to soften again. That you don’t have to earn your right to breathe, eat, or feel joy. It takes intention and slowness to reclaim these patterns, but when you do, your body begins to heal, your mind clears, and your soul begins to trust that rest is not a threat - it’s really truly holy.

Spiritual performing is subtle. It looks like faithfulness on the outside - serving, praying, doing all the “right” things. But, inside, it’s driven by fear, pressure, and the belief that you have to prove your devotion to earn God’s love or favor. It’s the nervous system in a low-grade state of hypervigilance, always trying to get it “right.” Resting in God, on the other hand, is anchored in trust. It’s not passive; it’s deeply active surrender. It’s knowing that God’s love doesn’t increase when you show up more perfectly. It’s allowing yourself to be held rather than hustling to be holy. One is rooted in self-protection; the other in divine belonging. hen your body begins to feel the difference - when your breath deepens and your heart slows - you’ll know you’ve stepped out of performing and into the peace that surpasses understanding.

For many women, the word “Father” carries layers of pain. Whether it’s an absent dad, an emotionally unavailable one, or a Church culture that emphasized God’s authority more than His affection, the result is often the same: we approach God with caution. We know Him intellectually, but our bodies stay braced, our hearts unsure if we’re truly safe. Healing your relationship with the Father begins when you stop trying to be the strong one, the one who carries it all, and instead allow yourself to be seen, known, and loved not for what you do, but for who you are. This is the restoration of daughterhood. It’s the journey of learning to receive not just help, but love, delight, protection. When your nervous system experiences the safety of a Father who won’t leave, belittle, or demand more than you can give, something sacred unfolds. You stop hustling for worth and start resting in your belovedness.  (Not sure if that's a word, but we're going with it :]) 

Healing isn't just a breakthrough moment; it’s who you become after. Integration is the process of weaving the safety, rest, and truth you've encountered into the everyday fabric of your life. It's learning how to live from a regulated nervous system instead of dipping in and out of survival mode. It’s noticing when old patterns try to sneak back in - overgiving, rushing, disappearing - and choosing a different way. Integration is when rest becomes a rhythm, not a reward. When you don’t have to try to be yourself, because you’re safe enough to just be. It's where your nervous system, your identity, and your relationship with God align, not in perfection, but in peace.

Healing doesn’t end when the breakthrough happens - it begins there. Just like a home needs upkeep, so does your spirit and body. A maintenance plan is about honoring your humanity and staying rooted in what truly nourishes you. Spiritually, this might look like regular confession, Scripture, silence, or sitting with the Lord when you feel nothing. Somatically, it might mean breathwork, walking barefoot in the grass, nourishing meals, or 90 seconds of stillness after a hard conversation. This is not about performing a perfect routine. It won't be perfect. Life will happen. But, it’s about creating rhythms that help you return to God and yourself again and again because you don’t need to be healed once. You need to be held daily. Creating Your Spiritual + Somatic Maintenance Plan Daily Rhythms Morning prayer + breathwork (5–10 min) Body scan or somatic check-in Nourishing meals at regular intervals 2–5 minutes of vagal toning (humming, sighing, or cold splash) Movement: stretch, walk, dance, or sway Visual pause: go outside, look at the sky, light a candle Evening gratitude + examen (reflect on where God met you) Weekly Spiritual Anchors Sunday Mass (non-negotiable) Adoration or quiet time before the Blessed Sacrament Lectio Divina or Scripture journaling Confession (if needed, at least once monthly) Digital Sabbath or screen-free evening A rest block (no to-do’s, only receive) Weekly Physical Practices Long exhale breathing (4 counts in / 8 counts out) Lymphatic dry brushing or warm bath Grounding walk with sensory awareness Holding your heart and belly while becoming aware of your breath Laying on the floor with weighted object or baby (stillness practice) Monthly Maintenance Review what’s working in your rhythms Schedule support (here's an exclusive package just for you!) Reflect: Am I performing or receiving? Adjust expectations with your season Revisit your identity: Who does God say I am?

Take a moment to pause and reflect: What’s shifted for you, body, mind, or soul, since you began this healing journey? Maybe it’s something subtle, like feeling safer in your skin... Maybe it’s something big, like finally asking for help or setting a boundary. Maybe you’ve reclaimed a part of yourself you thought was gone for good. Your story matters. Not just for you - but for the woman behind you, who’s still waiting to believe healing is possible. Share your transformation below. You can be brief or go dee[p.