There’s a day I still think about.

She was maybe five - small enough to need help with everything, old enough to have big emotions.
We were at the dinner table when she spilled her apple juice.

Not the first time that week.
And I was done - tired of cleaning, tired of adulting, tired of pretending patience was my spiritual gift.
So I snapped.

Loud voice. Sharp tone.
The kind of reaction that fills a room faster than the spill ever could.

She froze. Eyes wide, lip trembling.
And then, in the smallest voice, she said, “I’m sorry.”

That’s when I saw it - fear.
Not because of the mess, but because of me.

That moment still sits heavy sometimes.
It was before I knew anything about emotional regulation, nervous system resets, or how to calm my own chaos.
Back then, “take a deep breath” felt like an insult.

Like so many of us, I learned to stay strong - not calm.
To correct - not connect.

The Brain Behind the Blow-Up

Here’s what I didn’t know back then - and what neuroscience explains so clearly now.

When we snap, it’s not because we’re “bad” or “broken.” It’s because our amygdala (the brain’s alarm system) hijacks the show. It floods us with stress chemicals like cortisol and adrenaline, shutting down the prefrontal cortex - the logical, patient, problem-solving part of the brain.

In that moment, we literally lose access to calm reasoning. It’s not a character flaw. It’s a nervous system on overload.

But here’s the hope: one slow, intentional breath starts to send a message up the vagus nerve that says, “We’re safe now.”
That tiny pause begins to quiet the alarm, bringing the prefrontal cortex back online - where empathy and logic live.

That’s emotional regulation in real time - not a mindset shift, but a biological one.

This Week’s Shift

If you’ve ever lost it (and you will again - because you’re human, not a robot), here’s what I’ve learned:

Repair is louder than regret.

Next time it happens, try this:

The 3R Reset: Recognize, Regulate, Repair.

• Recognize what’s really happening. Not the spilled juice, not the coworker’s tone - it’s the “I’m running on fumes” moment underneath.
• Regulate before you respond. One slow breath. Shoulders down. Jaw unclenched. Maybe mutter a quiet “shift happens” if that keeps you from exploding.
• Repair when you’re calm. Say, “That was about me, not you.” Or, “I overreacted - can we hit reset?”

It works whether it’s your kid, your partner, or the person who parked so close you had to crawl in through the passenger side.

That day taught me something I carry now: Every time we repair, we remind people - and ourselves - it’s okay to be human.

We don’t need perfect. We need real.

And honestly? That’s what I try to teach through Henry the Hedgehog now - all the emotional tools I wish someone had handed me back when “stay strong” was my only coping strategy.

If only Henry had been around during the apple juice era... we both could’ve saved a few tears (and probably a tablecloth). 🤣

Hit reply and tell me what part of this email hit home for you. I read every email and will respond!

Certified Life & Communication Coach
Founder, RealWomen Connect™

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