A woman traces her need to control everything back to childhood attachment wounds and low oxytocin, then describes how therapy, scripture, and surrender to God restored her sense of safety. She learned the difference between safety and comfort, and how to show up in relationships from presence instead of fear.
I'm sharing this recorded not as a walk and talk, because this one isn't about movement. It's about awareness. The image you're seeing is from Greece. I remember standing there, looking out, having this quiet moment of disbelief. I cannot believe I'm here, not just because of where I was geographically, but because of where I was internally. I couldn't believe I was in a body that felt calm, a nervous system that wasn't bracing, a heart that wasn't scanning for what might go wrong next. I had language for what I lived, awareness of what shaped me. And for the first time, I could feel that something had actually healed, not just been understood. And that's what this is about. Not arrival, but healing. That has wretched my body. And I want to share it this way. Because emotional safety isn't something we rush through. It's something we noticed, something we set with. So if you're listening quietly while resting or driving or just breathing, that feels right for what I'm sharing. I want to share this especially for women, because I know how isolating it can feel when you don't understand why your body reacts the way it does. For a long time, I didn't understand emotional safety. I thought safety meant agreement, comfort, or keeping things calm. But I've learned that emotional safety isn't about avoiding hard moments. It's about knowing I won't be punished, dismissed, or shut down for being honest. And once I understood that, I started to see something else. I wasn't afraid of being seen. I was afraid of what might happen after I was As I sat. With that, the Lord gently showed me the root underneath, how I learned to move through the world. For me, there was a deep fear of being unloved and even deeper fear of being abandoned. Because of that, safety didn't feel neutral in my body. It felt fragile. So intention showed up. My body reacted quickly. There was urgency, a need to resolve things fast. Not because I wanted control, but because unresolved tension felt like loss. If you've ever felt that tightening, that pressure to fix it, now you're not broken. My nervous system had learned to protect connection by staying alert and trying to hold things together. And this is where understanding oxytocin changed everything for me. See, oxytocin is a hormone connected to bonding and trust and felt safety. It's released when we're consistently seen, soothed, and responded to. And I began to understand that I didn't receive enough of that early on. So my nervous system wasn't broken. It just was undernourished. So my body learned connection as something to monitor instead of something to rest in. That realization helped me hold myself with compassion instead of shame. Because even though I loved God deeply, my body hadn't learned safety yet. So when closeness felt overwhelming, it wasn't failure of faith. It was just the body learned connection as risk before it learned connection as faith. And instead of correcting me, God stayed with me. Through therapy, scripture, and time, he began restoring safety from the inside out, teaching my body what my heart already believed. Over time, he showed me how much fear had shaped the way I showed up, trying to manage timing, conversations and outcomes. I wanted him involved, but I was still holding the pen because letting go felt like risking abandonment. And what he's been asking of me hasn't been more effort. It's just been surrender. Surrender of my heart. Well, in the pen, so he can finish what he started. The more time I spend in scripture and the more I realize God has always cared about safety. In the beginning in Eden, the first woman was formed in an environment where nothing threatened her presence. She was naked, unashamed. Not because she was unaware, but because she was safe. Safe to be seen, safe to exist without performing, and safe to receive love without bracing for loss. Eden wasn't just a garden. It was the presence before striving. And when that safety broke, fear entered the body first. Hiding came next and then striving followed. So when God restores safety in us, he isn't making us new people. He's returning us to the original design. Healing for me hasn't been about fixing what was wrong. It's about remembering who I was before fear taught me to brace. That's why singleness doesn't feel like a waiting room anymore. It feels like stewardship. Because when we let God restore safety in us, we don't just become more whole. We become safer people to love. This season has been teaching me how to bring presence instead of pressure and stability instead of urgency. Keep curiosity instead of fear. And the more God becomes my first place of safety, the stronger of a partner, a friend, and a woman. I become not because I'm perfect, but because I'm anchored. Anchored enough to listen, anchored enough to stay present when things are hard, and anchored enough to love without trying to control outcomes. People were never meant to be our first place of safety. That's always been God's role. And when we let him do that work first, we don't show up empty handed. We show up formed. So if you're in a season of singleness or just a season of becoming. Maybe the invitation isn't to rush through it. Maybe it's to steward it gently. Because when safety is restored, love doesn't feel like survival. It feels like partnership.
Life After Human Trafficking: Why Restoration Matters | Survivor Support (8/9)
