#self-regulation

On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

As a teenager growing up in Ontario, I always envied the kids who spent their summers tree planting; they'd come back from the bush in September, insect-chewed and leathery, with new muscle, incredible stories, thousands of dollars, and a glow imparted by the knowledge that they'd made a new forest with their own blistered hands.

I was too unathletic to follow them into the bush, but I spent my summers doing my bit, ringing doorbells for Greenpeace to get my neighbours fired up about the Canadian pulp-and-paper industry, which wasn't merely clear-cutting our old-growth forests – it was also poisoning the Great Lakes system with PCBs, threatening us all.

At the time, I thought of tree-planting as a small victory – sure, our homegrown, rapacious, extractive industry was able to pollute with impunity, but at least the government had reined them in on forests, forcing them to pay my pals to spend their summers replacing the forests they'd fed into their mills.

I was wrong. Last summer's Canadian wildfires blanketed the whole east coast and midwest in choking smoke as millions of trees burned and millions of tons of CO2 were sent into the atmosphere. Those wildfires weren't just an effect of the climate emergency: they were made far worse by all those trees planted by my pals in the eighties and nineties.

Writing in the New York Times, novelist Claire Cameron describes her own teen years working in the bush, planting row after row of black spruces, precisely spaced at six-foot intervals:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/15/opinion/wildfires-treeplanting-timebomb.html

Cameron's summer job was funded by the logging industry, whose self-pegulated, self-assigned "penalty" for clearcutting diverse forests of spruce, pine and aspen was to pay teenagers to create a tree farm, at nine cents per sapling (minus camp costs).

Black spruces are made to burn, filled with flammable sap and equipped with resin-filled cones that rely on fire, only opening and dropping seeds when they're heated. They're so flammable that firefighters call them "gas on a stick."

As adults, we sometimes have to go back and learn what we missed out on learning as children. That's okay. Those who were meant to teach us back then were not equipped to teach us what we needed to know. In most cases, they themselves didn't even know what we have the ability to now learn for ourselves.

Growing up, I watched a lot of Disney movies. I watched princesses who were soft, kind, misunderstood, but always chosen, always found, always saved. There was always a Prince Charming, someone who arrived at the right time, said the right things, and made everything fall into place. And even if I didn’t consciously believe it, a part of me internalized that story. That love would come, that it would feel right, that it would soothe everything restless inside me.

For most of my life, I believed quietly that love would steady me, that somewhere, someone existed who would understand me deeply enough, meet me fully enough, and stay consistent enough that something inside me would finally quiet down. That I would feel less overwhelmed by my own mind, less intense in my emotions, less aware of everything all at once. Because I’ve always been that kind of person. I feel deeply, I think deeply, I analyze, reflect, and question everything. And I don’t see that as a flaw. That is how I make meaning, that is how I grow. So I thought love would be the place where all of that would finally make sense, where I would feel seen, met, settled. But reality is not a fairy tale.

At some point, through experience, through discomfort, through moments I couldn’t ignore anymore, I realized something that shifted everything. There is no one coming to save me. No Prince Charming, no perfect counterpart, no person capable of carrying my inner world for me. People have limits, love has conditions, everyone is dealing with something I cannot see. And sometimes, the person I once imagined as “the one” is simply another human being trying to manage their own life, their own struggles, their own limitations.

That realization didn’t come with drama. It came quietly, a kind of grounded disappointment, the kind that doesn’t break me but sobers me. Because it removes the illusion of rescue and forces me to face something much more honest. No one is responsible for my emotional stability, and no one is capable of fully holding it for me. And once I saw that clearly, I couldn’t go back to the fantasy.

For a moment, that truth felt heavy because it meant letting go of something comforting, the idea that somewhere out there, someone could make everything feel okay. But almost immediately after that disappointment came something else, a sense of responsibility, and strangely, a sense of power.

I began to understand that what I had been looking for externally was something I had to build internally. Not through control, not through perfection, but through discipline.

Detachment started to make sense to me in a completely different way. Not as coldness, not as distance, but as clarity. As the understanding that everything outside of me, people, relationships, timing, outcomes, is inherently unstable. Temporary, unpredictable, not mine to control. And because of that, I cannot build my emotional foundation on it. I cannot depend on it to keep me steady.

So the question changed. From what do I need from the world to feel okay, to what do I need to become so I can hold myself steady regardless of what the world does. And that question is not comfortable. It doesn’t give immediate relief, it doesn’t offer softness, but it is honest.

This path is not easy. It asks me to sit with discomfort instead of escaping it, to feel without immediately reacting, to pause before I speak, before I act, before I project meaning onto things I cannot control. It asks for restraint, for awareness, for discipline, again and again, until it becomes who I am.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize this isn’t just about relationships. It’s about everything. Money, success, validation, romance, all the things people chase believing they will finally feel complete. But none of them are stable, none of them last, none of them can carry the weight we expect them to carry.

Maybe this is where my beliefs come in. Maybe this is where Buddhism resonates so deeply with me. The idea that attachment creates suffering, that everything is impermanent, that chasing external fulfillment will always leave me grasping for more. And maybe this is also where philosophy, Stoicism, eudaimonia, grounds me. The idea that a meaningful life is not built on pleasure or ease, but on virtue, discipline, and alignment with who I choose to be.

I don’t want a life that is just happy. I want a life that is intentional. A life where I am in control of my actions, my words, my responses, a life where I do not harm others out of impulse or emotional instability, a life where I can trust myself, even in discomfort, even in uncertainty.

At the end of the day, I have to face the truth. No one is coming to save me. And that is not something to fear, it is something to accept. Because once I accept it fully, I stop waiting. I stop expecting the world to organize itself in a way that makes me feel safe. I stop outsourcing my peace.

I become responsible for myself, for my emotions, for my reactions, for the way I choose to live.

I am not a damsel in distress. I do not need to be rescued. If anything, the most important thing I can learn in this life is how to rescue myself.

Not in a dramatic way, but quietly, daily, through discipline, through awareness, through choosing, again and again, to return to myself.

Because maybe that’s the real version of the story. Not a prince who arrives, but a person who becomes.

mindfulminion.com

Transforming stress into creativity and relaxation, one Fidget Bloom at a time! 🌸🌺🌼 Check out my latest DIY video on how to make your own fidget bloom - the ultimate fidget toy that can transform into a variety of shapes to suit your mood and various needs! Not only is it a great tool for stress relief, but it's also a fun and creative outlet to keep your hands busy. Give it a try and let me know what you think! :)

Shop dozens of colours and styles:

Etsy Shop | Official Website

We need to stop overlooking sensory issues for autistic and/or ADHD people. They can have a major impact on our ability to function, both negatively and positively. Overstimulation and overload can make focusing hard to impossible, spiral us into unwanted emotions, or shut us down entirely. At the same time, our senses can be really grounding, intense sensations can be really enjoyable, and the right stimulation can be regulating.

What I'm saying is that we can also use these same heightened senses to self-regulate or self-soothe if we do it right. Let's talk about how to do that, and walk through a worksheet to help.

The Impact of Sensory Issues

Most autistic people, and many people with ADHD, are highly impacted by our sensory world, although usually in different ways. Autistic folks may be highly, sometimes painfully, sensitive to sights, sounds, and so on. We can react strongly to these sensations, and these sensations can have a huge impact on our mood and ability to function. Sensory issues looms large for many of us, threatening to severely limit our executive functioning, energy levels, or even our ability to speak.

For ADHD'ers, our senses can be a major source of distraction and energy loss. We often have trouble filtering relevant sensations from non-relevant ones and, combined with our impulsive minds, often find our attention switching to distracting or unhelpful sensory input. This impacts our focus, sure, but putting in the cognitive effort over and over again to pull our attention back on track is utterly exhausting. This has a major impact on our mood and energy levels.

However, being highly sensitive or responsive to sensations isn't always only a bad thing. Usually, if some sensations are painful, uncomfortable, or unpleasant, there are also sensations that are soothing, comforting, or joyful. If some stimulation distract us, other stimulation might lock us in. The goal of this worksheet is to find those pleasant, joyful, or regulating sensations, so

Let's Brainstorm

For a first step, think about soothing, comforting, or regulating sensations that you already know and might already be using! Think of sensations you keep coming back to or ones you enjoy. Write these down.

At the moment, it's alright if you can't think of any at all or if you are overflowing with options. These pleasant, soothing sensations can be just about anything. They could be running your hand on a cool wall, listening to thrashing metal music, kaleidoscopic light patterns, your favourite blanket, the feeling of a tight hug, and on and on.

While brainstorming, remember to include sensations that come from body position, closeness to people or objects, movement, or balance, as well as the traditional senses of sound, sight, smell, taste, and touch. This is so important because these non-traditional senses are often the basis for how we stim.

Wait... are these just stims?

Stims are essentially what we're looking for here, yep. Often, stims, or self-stimulating behaviours, are subconscious or learned ways of using movement and sensations to self-soothe. They often come up in stressful, understimulating, or dysregulating situations and may be repeated as needed to manage stress and re-regulate. Stims are generally associated with being autistic, but everybody stims.

The fact that everyone stims also means that everybody can benefit from being aware of which sensations bring them joy, peace, and guide them towards having self-control... and which ones don't.

Filling in the gaps

Brainstorming without any prompts can be overwhelming or inspire decision paralysis. If this happened to you, or even if you have lots of ideas for self-soothing sensations, let's look at some prompts to fill in any gaps. The page below has dozens to choose from, such as do you prefer vivid colours or pastels? Shiny or matte finishes? Look these over, and if any of them speak to you, or remind you or other sensations you find joyful, write them down too.

In this step make sure that you only write down examples that you actually find soothing or joyful. After all, we aren't looking for the lesser of two evils.

Overcoming the biggest barrier

Once we have a list that we can work with, it's time to tackle the biggest barrier to using any strategy: accessibility. We're often least able to remember our strategies, or make decisions, when we actually need them. This means that we need to make it dead simple to find, decide on, and use our strategies to give us the best chance of accessing them when we need them. So, let's make those decisions now:

Find a few examples (perhaps 5-10) that are easy to use and available most places you go. The fewer steps, tools, or materials you need for these examples, the better in my opinion.

For each of these examples, take a moment to write them in as clear and action-focused language as you can so that dysregulated you needs to decode as little as possible. When you're comfortable with the wording, write these on a business card or piece of paper you can keep with you. (I've included some templates below if you'd like to use those).

For places where you spend the most time, we want to make these examples super accessible here as well. Take a few minutes to make these examples eye-catching, easy-to-read, and aesthetic. Make them something that you enjoy, or at least that you don't mind, looking at. Include art, graphics, or designs that speak to you or feel meaningful, and place them in a visible spot where they easy to find, even when you're feeling utterly awful.

Taking the time now to make sure our strategies are accessible, and as free of barriers as possible, will make it more likely that we use them when we need them. This is useful for most people and most strategies, but absolutely essential for many ADHD and/or autistic folks for whom dysregulation hits like a Mack truck.

Practice, Practice, Practice

Now that you have these examples written down in a place where you see them and find them again, it's time to practice actually using the. This could be the next time you start to feel overwhelmed, or even when you just don't feel quite right. In these situations, using one or more of these examples might be able to help you settle, and the more you use them the easier using them will become. So take the time to practice these strategies and, as you need to, come back go through this worksheet again to update your examples and find new sources of sensory joy in your self-regulation.

--

In addition to getting early access to this post, folks who support me on Patreon also get access to a PDF version of this worksheet that you can edit and make your own. If you aren't a patron, please consider joining for early access, exclusive content, and community.

Speaking of those great souls who help support this work, thank you to each and every one of you:

When it comes to healing trauma, one of the most overlooked—but essential—skills is learning how to regulate the nervous system. In psychological science, regulation refers to the ability to shift out of states of hyperarousal (anxiety, panic, overwhelm) or hypoarousal (shutdown, numbness, dissociation) into a place of balance and safety. The two main pathways are co-regulation vs self-regulation—and both are crucial for trauma recovery.

What Is Co-Regulation vs Self-Regulation?

Co-regulation refers to how our nervous system settles in the presence of another. From the moment we are born, our brains and bodies are wired to seek safety through connection. A caregiver’s voice tone, facial expression, or touch communicates to the infant nervous system: you are safe here. This relational soothing creates the foundation for attachment security.

Self-regulation, on the other hand, is the capacity to restore balance on our own. It involves being able to notice when we’re stressed and use tools—like breathwork, grounding, or meditation—to return to a regulated state. In adulthood, both co-regulation and self-regulation form the twin pillars of resilience.

Why Co-Regulation Is Vital for Healing Attachment Trauma

When someone has experienced attachment wounds, their nervous system may not have learned reliable co-regulation early on. This can create difficulties in relationships, where closeness feels threatening, or where independence becomes an armor against vulnerability.

In trauma recovery, healing attachment trauma often begins with co-regulation. Safe, attuned presence—whether with a therapist, a loved one, or even within supportive group settings—can repair old patterns. As Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory emphasizes, co-regulation helps re-train the vagus nerve to respond flexibly, restoring a sense of relational safety that is foundational for deeper healing.

Somatic Nervous System Tools for Trauma Recovery

While co-regulation creates the relational template, somatic nervous system tools strengthen self-regulation. These practices focus on the body as the primary site of healing, since trauma is stored not just in memory but in physiology. Examples include:

Breathwork for vagal tone: Slow, paced breathing regulates heart rate variability (HRV), calming both body and mind.

Grounding practices: Orienting to the environment through sensory awareness re-establishes presence.

Movement: Shaking, stretching, or gentle yoga help discharge excess energy from the sympathetic nervous system.

Floatation REST + frequency support: In the float tank, external stimuli are minimized, allowing the body to naturally shift into parasympathetic dominance. This creates an ideal environment for trauma recovery methods that deepen nervous system coherence.

Trauma Recovery Methods That Integrate Both

The most effective trauma recovery methods combine co-regulation and self-regulation. In therapy, a trusted relationship provides co-regulation, while clients also learn somatic tools to regulate independently. At Quantum Clinic, Floatation REST amplifies this process by creating a state of non-sleep deep rest, where the nervous system can “reset” without external pressure. When paired with somatic coaching, clients practice moving between states of co-regulation and self-regulation fluidly—building resilience in both relational and individual contexts.

Why This Balance Matters

Healing is not about choosing co-regulation vs self-regulation—it’s about learning how to weave both together. Trauma fragments the nervous system’s ability to trust, respond, and adapt. Recovery restores this adaptability, so the body knows how to rest in connection and stand strong in independence.