The Vibe Doesn’t Have to Be Calm: Finding Safety in Your Own Way

When most people think of healing or wellness, they picture something pretty specific: dim lighting, hushed voices, thin bodies in matching yoga sets. Maybe a serene, curated studio where everyone whispers and no one dares fidget.

That version of calm works for some people—and that’s perfectly okay. But for many others, especially folks who’ve never felt like they belonged in those spaces, it can feel like yet another message that you’re too loud, too restless, or just too much. That’s not healing. That’s erasure.

In therapy, the vibe doesn’t have to be calm. You just have to feel safe.

Can Chaos Be Calming? Absolutely.

One of the most unexpectedly grounding experiences of my life happened at a Trash Talk show almost a decade ago. It was full-on, knock-down, drag-out chaos—ear-splitting in the best (and worst) way. The pit was a blur of bodies, and I nearly threw my neck out from thrashing. (Am I officially aging myself here?) The bass lines and blast beats hit like a jackhammer, relentless and raw—until, somehow, I felt calm.

Why? Because no one was pretending. No one was policing anyone’s energy or trying to squeeze themselves into a neat little box. I wasn’t being judged for how I looked, how I moved, or what I felt. Everyone was just showing up as they were—loud, messy, real. And for someone who’s spent a lot of time feeling like they didn’t quite belong, that kind of honesty felt like safety.

Nervous System Regulation Isn’t Always Quiet

This is where good ol’ polyvagal theory comes in—a tool for understanding how our nervous system responds to stress, connection, and the environment around us. Developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, it outlines three primary nervous system states:

Ventral vagal: A state of safety and connection where we feel grounded, present, and able to engage with others.

Sympathetic: The fight-or-flight state where the body mobilizes to protect against perceived threat.

Dorsal vagal: The shutdown state where we disconnect, go numb, or collapse inward to cope.

What’s powerful about ventral vagal safety is that it doesn’t have to look like calm in the traditional sense. It’s not about sitting still or breathing quietly. It’s about feeling connected, grounded, and able to access your full self—even if that self is crying, dancing, pacing, or talking a mile a minute.

Real safety can live in a mosh pit, in a yoga pose that makes you feel strong, in a burst of laughter that catches you off guard, in a playlist that makes you scream in your car, or in the quiet focus of a tattoo session where you finally feel at home in your body.

That’s nervous system regulation, too. It’s your body saying: I know this rhythm. I can stay here. I don’t have to hide.

This is what trauma-informed therapy and nervous system-aware healing can look like—especially when it’s made for people who’ve never quite felt at home in the mainstream wellness world.

Reflection Prompts: What Does Safety Look Like for You?

If you’re curious about what safety feels like in your body (on your terms), try asking yourself:

Notice:

  • When do I feel most like myself?

  • What environments help me breathe easier?

  • Who lets me show up unfiltered?

  • What types of movement or rest feel natural to me?

Challenge:

  • What if I stopped apologizing for my energy?

  • What if healing didn’t mean “fixing” myself?

You Don’t Need to Be Less. You Just Need to Be Met.

Whether you're a punk, an artist, neurodivergent, queer, burnt out, or just someone who’s tired of performing calmness for others, you deserve a space where your full self is welcome. Therapy can be that space, and you don’t have to change who you are to be here.


Interested in working with Shannon? Connect with them at Shannon@RoomToBreatheChicago.Com

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Episode 11 Coffee Chats: Whitney Pasch, C-IAYT, on Psych-Sensitive, Trauma-Informed Yoga Teacher Training