Pick one woman in your life and chances are she feels like she’s barely holding it together. The cultural pressure to be busy, work hard and achieve more leads many of us to override our own neuro-biological needs. Then we rely on coping mechanisms like couch rotting or wine time that don’t actually reduce stress in our lives or provide true recovery for your nervous system.
Since 2018 I’ve been running my Vagus Nerve Masterclass and Program, teaching women from across the world how to tune into their nervous system in order to recover their innate resilience and improve their psychological and physical well-being.
Many of these women I teach are struggling. Superficially, they’re encouraged to bring their whole selves to their work, families and communities. Practically this doesn’t include the trauma, societal expectations or chronic health conditions they were dealing with that affect their ability to truly ‘show up’ for these same people.
So I wrote The Nervous System Reset to reframe how society looks at the brain and body connection and to teach people how to cultivate a sense of nervous system awareness they could use to guide them through life’s tough times.
I know a nervous system informed approach to stress and trauma works. It’s the very thing that’s helped me navigate the worst periods of my life.
When I was 32, my big brother died.
My life changed forever after I received the call that Sam had died by suicide at 34. In the following weeks, I couldn’t eat or sleep and was crippled by persistent and debilitating stomach cramps.
Emotionally, I felt like I was falling as my world bottomed out from underneath me. Now I can recognise it as a deep and profound shock but at the time it felt like I didn’t know what home was anymore.
Because Sam wasn’t just my big brother. He was my safe space, my cheerleader and my best friend. Anything I’ve achieved before and after he died wouldn’t have been possible without his support and his memory.
My parents were, and still are, fantastic. But a sibling is the person who gets you. Who gets your family and all their quirks. Who has been there from day one. Often a sibling understands you like non one else and without Sam, I didn’t know who I was in the world or where to turn to for comfort.
But I’d already experienced this pain. My body had kept the score.
When I was four, mine and Sam’s little brother Luke died of SIDS. He was only eight weeks old. I’m now a mother of one beautiful daughter so I can palpably imagine the horror my parents experienced. But at the time I was a preschooler. I didn’t have the language to process all these big, scary emotions. Instead, I did what all children do, I stored the trauma as a feeling rather than a memory.
I didn’t know it at the time but following Sam’s death, I’d also have to unpack losing Luke all those years ago.
Up until this point, I’d been a high achiever. I’d completed two degrees, cycled up France’s steepest mountains, completed triathlons, and started my own physiotherapy clinic at 28. I was known for saying ‘I can do this.’
But grit, stoicism and collecting accomplishment wouldn’t help here. I needed to work with this pain in a different way. I needed to process what was happening. And start the long process of healing.
Three weeks after Sam died, I booked a one way ticket to the US.
I’d worked as a physio for over a decade. Over time I’d become more interested in the mind-body connection and was becoming increasingly convinced that treating my patients’ physical symptoms was only half of the story.
Then Sam died and it only strengthened my resolve to take this next step.
This kickstarted a two year journey of upheaval, loss, enlightenment and transformation.
I’d study under Tara Brach and Jack Kornfield in the US, find myself in France, overwhelmed by sadness, isolation and insomnia, googling ‘grief retreat’ in a moment of desperation and attending a silent retreat where I’d kick start the process of helping my brain comes to terms with losing Sam and Luke.
I’d meet amazing people. Only after the silent retreat came to an end did I discover the woman I’d been sharing a room with for two weeks had also lost a brother to suicide. Others had lost children, spouses and friends. They all understood that while navigating grief, it’s not necessarily about what you say but about being with others that will help you through it.
During this time, I also started the training in neuroscience, neuroplasticity, interoception and vagus nerve regulation that would mark my professional shift to helping others heal their own nervous system.
Back in Australia, most of my patients were in a state of nervous system dysregulation.
They were experiencing everything from grief and trauma to feelings of powerlessness and burnout. Their emotional distress was manifesting in intense physical symptoms such as gut issues and chronic pain.
So much conventional wisdom focuses on either the body or the brain at the expense of the other. My training in interoception concentrated on the link between the two. By helping patients recognise that pain in the mind and body are one and the same, they could play an active role in their healing.
This often looked like observing physical sensations in the body (heat in the chest, clammy palms, restlessness) and recognising the coinciding emotions like anxiety, anger or shutdown. Then we could work together to develop strategies such as breathing exercises, dietary changes or massage, to realign their nervous system.
What I wish everyone knew about grief and stress
What I do know is that while no two experiences are the same, everyone will experience grief, trauma or stress at some stage. It’s the price we pay for living a wholehearted life.
The biggest tool in our arsenal is our relationships. We think resilience is about being strong but it’s about being connected with others when times are hard. By building community with people who have your back and can tune into your emotional state, you’re able to access the regulated state needed to process difficult emotions.
And by raising awareness of what’s happening in your body, you can feel empowered to ask for the support you need. Ultimately, if you want to feel different, it’s about connecting with your body. By looking at behaviour through the lens of the nervous system, and recognising that our feelings have a physical manifestation in our bodies, we can use this information to protect our physical and emotional wellbeing, and show up for our colleagues, community, and, most importantly, ourselves.
Navigating the nervous system
- Dorsal vagal state: characterised by ‘freeze’ and ‘flop’ You may feel numb, exhausted and have trouble getting off the couch.
- Sympathetic state: energy is mobilised into feelings of anxiety, anger and overwhelm. You might feel like the on button is jammed. Spending prolonged periods in a sympathetic state can lead to physical pain, gut issues, insomnia.
- Regulated state: you feel calm and in control. You can tolerate and observe your emotions and bodily sensations and make decisions in line with your values. You feel safe and social, open for connection with others.