Stepping out of survival mode and into joy: Learning how to experience the good stuff

The strange feeling of safety in trauma

You’ve spent years bracing for impact. Your body and your mind both know how to deal with stress, disappointment and struggle. You are fluent in survival. Then, one day, something changes. Good things start happening. And instead of embracing those moments, you freeze. Instead of feeling relief, your body tenses. The very thing you’ve been waiting or hoping scares you more than anything you’ve experienced before.

If this feels familiar, you may have some of the same questions I do. Why is it so hard to accept the good when we’ve spent so long expecting the bad? Why does peace feel so uncomfortable when we’ve been conditioned for chaos? If the absence of pain feels like a threat, are we truly living or simply surviving?

The biology of survival mode

When you live in survival mode, your body operates in a state of chronic stress. Cortisol becomes your constant companion, keeping you alert, reactive, and prepared for whatever threat is coming next. Even if the threats are psychological rather than physical, your nervous system doesn’t differentiate. You are always ready to run, fight, or shut down.

Then, something shifts. Maybe you enter a healthy relationship. Maybe your financial situation stabilizes. Maybe therapy and your personal healing work starts paying off. And suddenly, your cortisol levels begin to drop. Your body is so used to running on high alert, that it doesn’t know what to do with itself. The absence of stress feels like a void—one that can feel just as unnerving as the stress itself.

When good feels like a threat

Ironically, receiving love, success, or stability can trigger feelings of unease rather than comfort. This isn’t because you don’t want happiness—it’s because your body doesn’t recognize it as safe. You’ve built survival strategies that worked under stress, but those same strategies don’t function in peace.

This can manifest in ways that feel confusing and even self-sabotaging:

• Overwhelming emotions: Instead of joy, you might feel panic or sadness because your body doesn’t understand how to process joy.

• Discomfort in stillness: When you’re used to anticipating danger, moments of calm feel unnatural.

• Difficulty trusting the good: You might question whether it’s real, or continually brace yourself for the inevitable disappointment, because past experiences have taught you that good things don’t last.

The withdrawal from cortisol

Without the usual flood of cortisol, your body experiences withdrawal. This can lead to physical exhaustion, brain fog, and even depression. You may find yourself craving the stress you once resented because it gave you a sense of control and in its absence, you feel lost.

But this is not regression. This is recalibration. Your nervous system is learning how to exist in a state of peace—something it was never taught to do.

The fear of stability & self-sabotage

Not recognizing calm as safe can have a profound impact on relationships, career choices, and personal fulfillment. It’s why you might find it easier to sleep in the arms of someone who doesn’t care than in the embrace of someone who consistently shows up for you. Unreliable situations feel normal, and stability feels unnerving—because if something isn’t solid to begin with, it can’t truly be lost.

I’ve often laid awake, tense, in the arms of a man who truly cared. My mind restless, my body hyper-alert. Yet I’ve slept like a baby next to someone using me, because the familiarity felt safe. What does that say about the way we’re wired? If your body can’t rest in safety, what version of love does it recognize?

The same pattern plays out in bigger life choices, too. When you recognize the good as something that could disappear at any moment, the instinct is to never fully commit. If you don’t fully embrace it, you can’t fully lose it. Whether it’s a passion project, a relationship, or a dream job, self-sabotage kicks in as a form of preemptive protection. The fear isn’t just about failure, it’s about loss. And so, sometimes, it feels safer to never fully step into what we love rather than risk it being taken away.

And so we become architects of our own limitations—building walls not because we want to be alone, but because somewhere deep down, we don’t believe we’ll survive the pain of loss if we let ourselves taste joy.

Learning to accept the good

So how do you teach yourself to trust joy? To lean into safety without fearing it?

1. Name the discomfort: Recognize that feeling uneasy in happiness doesn’t mean something is wrong. It means something is new.

2. Regulate your nervous system: Deep breathing, movement, and grounding exercises can help your body adjust to lower stress levels.

3. Let joy be small: Instead of forcing yourself to embrace overwhelming happiness, start with small moments of peace and ease.

4. Change your inner voice: When doubt creeps in—when you tell yourself, “This won’t last” or “I don’t deserve this”—pause. Challenge that thought. Reframe it.

5. Allow time: Healing from survival mode isn’t instant. Your body and mind need time to learn that safety is safe.

   
   

Trusting the calm

Maybe the real question isn’t Can I survive this? but Am I ready to live? It is hard to teach yourself that love, peace, and ease can happen without a catch. But it is possible. Your body and mind can adjust. The goal is not to erase the past but to teach yourself that you are no longer living there.

You are allowed to be okay. You are allowed to feel good. And most of all, you are allowed to trust it.