"I don’t think I know life without stress," my close friend admitted. We were deep in conversation about how stress shapes our lives in ways we barely notice—until we do. It got me thinking: If so many of us feel this way, why does stress seem like an unsolvable problem? Is it woven into our DNA? Our culture? Our country? Why does peace and ease feel so out of reach? Is it a luxury only the wealthy can afford? Or something reserved for monks meditating on the peaks of the Himalayas?
What would it take for us, as a collective, to drastically reduce this epidemic?
I didn’t have the answer, but I was determined to figure it out.
I tried to outsmart my stress, fix it, hack it—anything to make the constant tension in my body disappear.
I started with mindset shifts, telling myself, Just think positive. Stress is a choice. But no matter how much I repeated affirmations, my nervous system didn’t get the memo. My heart would still race, my stomach would still knot up, and my brain would still spin with anxious thoughts.
Then I turned to strict routines, thinking maybe I just needed more structure. I packed my mornings with journaling, meditation, breathwork, workouts—everything self-care culture told me to do. But instead of feeling calmer, I felt… exhausted. Stressed about not doing my stress-management routine correctly.
I even tried cutting out stress triggers entirely—avoiding conflict, limiting social media, blocking off entire days for “deep rest.” But life doesn’t work like that. Emails still came in. Life still happened. Avoiding stress wasn’t the answer either.
It wasn’t until I stopped treating stress like an enemy to eliminate and started working with my nervous system that things finally shifted.
What Actually Worked
After countless failed attempts to control my stress, I had to rethink my entire approach. Instead of treating stress as something to eliminate, I started focusing on what my nervous system actually needed to feel safe, regulated, and resilient.
Here are the biggest shifts that made a real difference for me:
1. Breathing Like My Life Depended on It (Because It Did)
I had done breathwork within my morning routines, but I wasn’t taking it with me outside those sessions. I didn’t realize that how I breathe day to day directly tells my nervous system whether I’m safe or in danger.
- Shallow, rapid breathing = stress mode.
- Slow, deep belly breathing = calm mode.
I started paying attention to my breath throughout the day. When I felt stressed, I’d pause and check in: Is my breathing shallow? It almost always was. So I took three deep belly breaths to reset.
If I needed more, I used the 4-7-8 method—inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 7, exhale for 8. I’d do this four times, and every single time, I felt my body relax. This is my go-to when I’m in emergency mode, but I know I’d benefit from doing it even more consistently.
2. Reframing Rest as Productivity
For so long, I saw rest as something I had to “earn.” If I wasn’t being productive, I felt guilty. But the irony is I was constantly pushing through and the stress was making me less productive.
I had to unlearn the idea that rest was a reward and start seeing it as a necessary investment. My nervous system wasn’t just going to regulate itself after years of running on stress hormones. It needed intentional recovery.
- I started taking "pause breaks"— not when I was already burnt out, but before I got there. Even just stepping away for 5 minutes to stretch, breathe, or stare out the window made a difference.
- I redefined what rest looked like. I used to think it meant lying in bed doing nothing, or binge watching Bridgerton on Netflix, but real rest could be as simple as drinking tea without distractions, listening to a good audio book, or going for a slow walk.
- I started honoring my body’s signals. Instead of overriding my exhaustion with increasing my to-do list or distractions, I actually let myself slow down, intentionally.
At first, it felt weird—like I was wasting time. But the more I practiced, the more I noticed a shift: When I rested, I focused better. When I slowed down, I moved through life with more ease. I stopped treating rest like an afterthought and started seeing it as a key part of actually showing up for my life.
3. I Had to Stop Caring So Darn Much
One afternoon, I was sitting outside and saw a bluebird land on a tree across the street. She hopped to a branch, fed her babies, and flew off. I noticed her, smiled, and went on with my day. No tension, no second thoughts—just observing and moving on.
Then, later that day, I went to post a vulnerable video on YouTube—about, of all things, learning to feel safe being vulnerable.
Suddenly, my chest tightened. My heart pounded. My mind raced.
- What if people judge me?
- What if my ex-coworkers or clients see this and clown me?
- What if no one engages at all?
It was just a video. But my body reacted like I was walking into battle.
That’s when it hit me: The only difference between the two moments was how much I cared. The bluebird? No attachment, no stress. The YouTube video? I had attached my self-worth to something I couldn't control.
I had to start caring less about things that weren’t mine to carry.
So I practiced letting go—
- Not everything needs my energy.
- Is this worth my peace? If not, I release it.
- If my body tensed up, I questioned why I was holding on so tightly.
And let me tell you, the more I stopped caring about things that didn't actually matter, the lighter I felt. I learned that peace isn’t something you chase. It’s what remains when you stop gripping so tightly to what was never yours to control.
4. Create Daily Non-Negotiables to Love on Your Nervous System
Instead of obsessing over the perfect morning and night routine, I started focusing on daily non-negotiables—small, intentional choices that gave my nervous system what it needed that day.
These non-negotiables weren’t strict habits or rigid schedules. They changed based on what my body and mind actually needed.
For example, on days packed with virtual meetings, I knew my biggest stressor was overstimulation. My brain felt foggy, my body tense from sitting too long, and my eyes strained from hours of screen time. So, my non-negotiable was simple: by 7 PM, all screens go off. No phone, no laptop, no TV. Instead, I’d make a warm mug of Skullcap tea, grab a book, and let my nervous system unwind without blue light hijacking my sleep.
Other days, my body craved movement, so my non-negotiable was morning yoga or stretching. If I felt tension building up, I’d commit to 30 minutes on my acupuncture mat in the evening, letting my body decompress.
Some days, my non-negotiable was as simple as stepping outside for fresh air.
It wasn’t about doing more—it was about doing less, but doing it intentionally.
That’s when I learned: Consistency doesn’t mean perfection. It means showing up for yourself in small, meaningful ways. For me, it was at least one non-negotiable a day, chosen from a list of practices that support me best.
Because at the end of the day, loving on your nervous system isn’t about forcing strict routines—it’s about listening, responding, and giving your body what it truly needs.
Claiming Our New Default: Peace
After making these shifts, I didn’t just feel less stressed — I felt more present, more creative, more alive. My body didn’t feel like it was constantly bracing for an attack.
And here’s what I realized: Peace isn’t something we “achieve.” It’s something we practice.
So here’s my challenge to you: Pick just one of these four practices and commit to trying it for a week. Notice how it feels. See what shifts.
Because if there’s one thing I know now — it’s that stress doesn’t have to be the default setting for our lives.
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