Chunk 1 Part 2

The speaker discusses how healing is not just about wanting positive things in the mind, but also involves the nervous system. Our system responds based on past experiences, even if it means familiar chaos feels safe while security feels foreign. Attachment styles often become part of our identity due to past adaptations for survival. Healing can be challenging as it asks us to let go of old coping mechanisms and embrace a new sense of security, which can feel lonely and bring up grief. The myth, everyone wants to heal. We hear it everywhere. I just want to be healed. I want secure attachment. I want healthy love. And cognitively, yes, most people do want those things. But healing doesn't happen in the mind alone. It happens in the nervous system. And here's the part no one really prepares you for. Your nervous system doesn't care what you want. It cares what it recognizes. If chaos was familiar, if inconsistency was normal, if love required effort, hyper-awareness, or self-abandonment, then security can feel foreign. And what's foreign often feels unsafe. Your system isn't asking, is this good for me? It's asking, have I survived this before? And if the answer is no, even peace can feel like a threat. When survival becomes your identity, for many of us, our attachment style became more than a pattern. It became who we are. You weren't just anxious. You were the one who loved deeply. The one who cared more. The one who tried harder. You weren't just avoidant. You were the independent one, the strong one, the one who didn't need anyone. You weren't just hyper-vigilant. You were emotionally intelligent, perceptive, aware. These identities formed because at some point, being secure wasn't an option. So your system adapted. And those adaptations worked. They kept you connected. They kept you alert. They kept you safe. So when healing asks you to release those rules, it can feel like asking you to disappear. And of course your system resists. I'd like you to pause for some reflection. I'm going to ask you something. You don't need to answer it out loud. Who are you without the struggle? Who are you if you're not the fixer, the pursuer, the strong one, the one who's always bracing? That question alone can bring up fear. And fear makes sense. Why security can feel like loss. There's a grief in healing that no one talks about. Grief for the version of you who survived too much. Grief for the coping strategies that once protected you. Grief for the intensity you mistook for love. Because becoming secure often means letting go of the fantasy that one day someone will finally choose you in the ways that you always needed. That fantasy kept you going. And releasing it hurts. Security says, I choose myself even if no one else does. And before that feels empowering, it can feel deeply lonely. If you need to pause the recording here and breathe, do that. When you're ready, move on to the next chunk.