I have been receiving messages about trapped anger and quiet frustration.
Why am I so irritated with people?
How do we keep showing up for work, for our childrenâs schedules, for daily life, while carrying this much inside?
Why does the anger spill so easily online, and even into the streets during protests?
I have felt this too.
I caught myself inside that same sensation. I mean seriously I was over the top mad at someone for celebrating their birthday last weekend.
I knew this wasn't me.
The ick feeling pushed me to pause and look beneath the reaction, to notice what was actually being carried and where it was being placed. What was grief, what was fear, and what was never meant for the person in front of me.
So I am sharing a small pause practice.
A stoplight for the nervous system.
Be Omide.
Be Azadi.đ
I feel it as a tight, bottled-up anger that has nowhere to go. And at the same time, a strange dissociation. I scroll. I pause. I scroll some more, part of me dysregulated and part of me, numb. My body is bracing for impact even though I am thousands of miles away. This is the paradox many of us in the Iranian diaspora are living right now. We are safe, yet not settled. Away, yet deeply entangled. Watching our homeland erupt while our nervous systems oscillate between rage, grief, guilt, helplessness, and even skepticism. Is this finally happening? Is this the final uprising?
What we are experiencing is not just empathy. It is collective trauma, unfolding alongside what is now the Iranian Revolution 2026, a moment marked by nationwide protests, internet shutdowns, mass arrests, and profound uncertainty about Iranâs future.
The Loss That Preceded the Headlines
Before the protests, before the politics, before the global attention, there was already loss.
Loss of growing up with our relatives. Loss of cousins who became strangers. Loss of being shaped by grandparents whose love arrived through phone calls and stories instead of daily presence. Just up until March of last year, I had a perfectly wise and healthy grandmother, someone who lived long enough to meet her own great-grandchildren, a rare and beautiful position in a time when people are having children later in life. I missed her not only when she passed, but in every developmental moment she was absent. She met those great-grandchildren only through FaceTime, a flickering screen standing in for touch, scent, and shared air. A modern miracle and a quiet tragedy, compliments of the regime.
Diaspora loss is rarely recognized because it is quiet. There is no ceremony for the childhood that might have been. No language for the cultural intimacy that never fully formed. No acknowledgment that separation itself is a relational wound. Naming this loss is not meant to compete with or eclipse the bravery of those still inside the country. It is meant to give voice to those who suffer silently from afar, holding grief without visibility while others risk everything in plain sight.
Link to article in Profile.
This is what it's all about. Couldn't pay me enough to go back to corporate.
I love my job (finally).
I love what I do and how I grow.
I love the connections I make.
I am so blessed and incredibly lucky to be able to do this.
"Just go for it" they said. "You gotta put yourself out there" they said. That advice never worked for me, it just never sticks and honestly, itâs because it's incomplete. What I learned through Internal Family Systems (IFS) parts work, that my procrastination and numbing werenât flaws. They were protective strategies.
It was a part of me that believed if I went all in and failed, it would be unbearable. So instead, it slowed me down, distracted me, or checked me out completely. Not because I was lazy. Because it was trying to protect me from pain. It still does time to time TBH.Â
Through IFS, I started to understand these parts instead of fighting them. I learned that fear of failure wasnât all of me. It was a part of me. And even if failure happened, it wouldnât define me. It wouldnât be who I am. It would be something I experienced. That's all.Â
That shift changed everything. For me the awareness alone has been very soothing. I still need work and it is constant work and daily check ins with my part.Â
I still fail. Probably daily, hah. I still procrastinate and clean out the Tupperware drawer just because I donât want to work on a webinar I have with well-educated peers who intimidate the heck out of me. And thatâs okay. It doesnât mean Iâm broken or behind. It means there are parts of me still doing their job. Until they fully retire von some golf course in Scotland, I will be compassionate toward them and appreciate their intentions.Â
#IFS #Traumahealing #Traumacoach #fearoffailure
long overdue Introduction and a bit more about my why.
So here we go.
If you are DONE with the constant survival state too; You should know that there is another option and that is âto thriveâ instead.
For more feel free to visit my website or send me a DM to book an intro.
Link in Bio for bookings. đŚ
#emotionalbalance #emotionalburnout #somatictherapy #traumacoach #traumarecovery
Throughout the day, shit happens.
Your nervous system responds.
You get activated. Irritated. Overwhelmed.
Sometimes you shut down.
Then⌠you come back.
Thatâs a healthy nervous system.
Regulation isnât staying calm.
Itâs not getting stuck.
A healthy system is flexible.
It can move through activation and return to safety.
Think of it like a grandpa clock. It swings.
Back and forth. If it stops moving, itâs broken.
So if youâre wishing to feel calm all the time,
youâre actually wishing for a system that doesnât respond.
For More Nervous System Ahas and Oohoos... Visit
What do you think?
They cost the same mental energy.
But they pay out very different emotional results.
Both light up the limbic system.
One expands you.
The other contracts you.
You donât control the first thought.
But you can choose which one you follow.
Which one do you usually autopilot towards?
