English is an interesting language.

When something happens, one of the first questions we ask is: “What’s wrong?” I’ve rarely heard anyone ask: “What’s right?”

I’ve been sitting with this lately.

Chaos vs. Calm

One of my clients recently left a chaotic marriage. She was raising two kids while running a business, and for a long time, she felt completely alone in it. When she finally moved into her own place, she shared something that caught her off guard.

There was relief… but there was also this heavy discomfort. And it was so painful.

I know this feeling too well.

The calmness is so foreign and unfamiliar that her nervous system doesn’t recognize it as safety. On the contrary, it almost feels dangerous. Like that high-pitched “beep” from a smoke detector when it’s running out of battery—subtle, but impossible to ignore.

I get it.

Growing up in 1980s China, there was always tension and arguments. Not just my parents—extended family, grandparents, even neighbours. It was just… normal to be in a room full of dysregulated adults.

I learned very early to be vigilant, to stay quiet, and not to need anything. Because if no one noticed me, if I didn’t take up space, then everything would be okay.

So the minute I left home for university in another city, I doubled down on independence. I tutored kids' English in China to make money, got my first job before I graduated, bought my first home with $1,000 in my pocket, got married to a foreigner, left a comfortable life in China to pursue graduate school in Canada, had kids, built a career, bought multiple homes…

My net worth grew. My life circumstances changed drastically.

But how I coped with life DIDN’T.

Doing. Pushing. Hyper-vigilant. High-functioning. Hyper-independent.

That little girl who hid behind the doors, watching her parents fighting through the crack, feeling terrified, is still there. 
Even during my divorce—after my ex walked out when I was pregnant and cut off contact with the kids—my response was the same. Going through that huge trauma, for the first three years, doing more, carrying everything, and being hyper independent was still my way to SURVIVE.

But what got you here won’t get you there

2026 has been a turning point for me.

Running my coaching and consulting business full-time this past year taught me a lot. Every day felt like a tug-of-war between fear of the unknown and a deliberate choice to trust. What surfaced recently hit me hard: I had never truly felt safe in my life.

Without realizing it, I had been chasing that safety in my partner… while being drawn to men who carried their own kind of internal chaos and insecurity. I searched for security in jobs, yet often ended up in places where I didn’t feel safe to fully be myself. I created urgency by staying busy. I packed my schedule so tightly that there was no space to breathe.

Because chaos felt familiar.

And familiarity, in a strange way, felt comfortable.

Then came the huge awakening

Because once you see that pattern, you can’t unsee it.

I’m turning 42 next month, and for the first time, I can honestly say I feel a deep, full-body sense of calm and peace. Not because everything is perfect. But because I finally understand that no one can give me that sense of safety but myself.

And still… the discomfort shows up.

Subconsciously, I catch myself chasing that dopamine hit: that old familiarity of chaos.

⇒ Scrolling YouTube until midnight.
⇒ Imagining worst-case scenarios out of nowhere.
⇒ Suddenly feeling the urgent need to research how much it would cost to replace my roof… like it has to be done tomorrow or everything will fall apart.
⇒ Wanting to reach out to someone I know isn’t right for me, almost like a reflex.

This is conditioning

Our brains are wired to scan for what’s wrong, to anticipate problems, to stay ahead of danger. That’s how we learned to survive.

But the side effect is this: When life becomes calm, stable—even good—we don’t always know how to sit in it.

So we start looking for what’s wrong.
But what if nothing is wrong?
What if your nervous system is simply learning something new?

Because growth—real growth—is uncomfortable. It asks us to think differently, respond differently, choose a different path than the one we’ve walked for years.

It’s rewiring your brain, choosing a new neural pathway over and over again until it becomes familiar.

And that’s not easy.
The shift isn’t about forcing positivity or pretending everything is perfect.
It’s making an intentional choice:

Instead of always asking “What’s wrong?”
It’s the invitation to pause and ask, “What’s right?”
And let yourself see it. Feel it. Soak it in.

Because the more you practice that, the more familiar calm becomes.

And that’s how we move from survival mode… to safety…

The kind of safety that isn’t dependent on anyone.
The kind of safety your whole body says “yes” to.
The kind of safety that finally brings you home.

So you can THRIVE.

With love and light,
Lisa

Photo by Meris on Unsplash
Photo by A. L. on Unsplash