<img src="https://webhook.chc-webhook.uk/branded-images/ul_mtzkenoh_amx3oh_CHENZO-1025.jpg" alt="The armor you forgot to take off" style="max-width:100%;border-radius:16px;"/>
You are sitting in a meeting, or maybe you are just driving home, and someone offers to help you. It is a simple gesture. They offer to carry a bag, or take a task off your plate, or pay for the coffee. Instantly, your chest tightens. A wall goes up inside you before you even make eye contact. Your mouth opens and the words come out before you can think. I have got it, you say. I can do it myself.
You say it with a smile, but your muscles are tense. Your grip on the steering wheel or your phone is too tight.
That is not just polite independence. That is a defense mechanism. It is a shield you built a long time ago, and you are still carrying it around even though the battle ended years ago.
In my recent podcast episode with Tom Snow, we talked about this exact thing. We talked about the defenses that once kept you alive, and how they eventually become the very things that keep you locked in a cage.
When you grow up in a house where you have to walk on eggshells, or where the adults are too busy with their own chaos, you learn a rule. You learn that depending on other people is dangerous. It leads to disappointment, or worse, it leads to pain. So you make a deal with yourself. You decide that you will do everything. You will be the strong one. You will be the one who never needs anything from anyone.
That shield worked. It kept you safe. It got you through the chaos. It made you highly capable, highly independent, and very successful in your work.
But now you are tired. It is really tiring.
You want deep relationships, but you cannot let anyone in. You want to relax, but your body is constantly on high alert. You are trying to live your life while wearing fifty pounds of heavy metal armor.
Most people try to fix this by telling themselves to trust more. They write affirmations on their mirrors. They tell themselves to just let go.
That does not work. It does not work because your nervous system does not care about logical arguments or nice quotes. Your body remembers what your mind decided to forget. Your body still thinks you are ten years old, trying to handle the storm alone. If you just try to force yourself to be vulnerable, your mind-made fear will scream even louder.
Healing does not have to take long. And it does not have to include suffering. A lot of doctors and healers say months and years of bullshit. It is just not true. You do not need years of talking about the old stories to drop the shield.
What actually helps is changing the relationship with the defense itself.
Instead of fighting the wall, you have to look at it with respect. You have to realize that this hyper-independence was a beautiful, brilliant strategy that your younger self created to protect you. It was your friend.
But you are not in that old house anymore. You are not that helpless child anymore.
This week, when that automatic wall goes up, do not fight it. Do not get angry at yourself for being closed off. Do it at the moment the pain comes up. Right there in the kitchen, or at your desk, or in your car.
Take one deep breath. Put your hand on your chest. Feel the tightness. And say to that protective wall: Thank you for keeping me safe for so long. I am safe now. I can take it from here.
Change the story, change the feeling. Change the feeling, change the behavior.
I worked with a man who could never let his partner do anything for him. If she cleaned the kitchen, he felt anxious. If she bought him a gift, he felt guilty. He was constantly running, constantly doing, completely exhausted. In one session, we went back to the first time he felt that pressure. He was seven years old, realizing his parents were divorcing, and deciding he had to be the man of the house.
Once he saw that his busyness was just a seven-year-old boy trying to save his family, the story changed. The feeling shifted from panic to deep peace. He walked out of that ninety-minute session feeling liberated. He went home and let his partner cook him dinner without feeling the urge to take over.
Your brain takes you to the past and the future. Your presence brings you home. In the here and now, you do not need the armor. You can finally put the heavy shield down.
Which one hits closest for you? Tell me in the comments.
DM me the word READY on my Instagram (@chenzo.holistic.coaching) and I will send you the link to book a free 30-minute discovery call.
<h3>Listen to The Purpose Path Podcast</h3><div style="position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UQMreB557H4" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;border:0;border-radius:12px;" allowfullscreen loading="lazy"></iframe></div>
More episodes and free resources: <a href="https://www.chenzoholisticcoaching.com/en/the-purpose-path-podcast">The Purpose Path Podcast</a> and <a href="https://www.chenzoholisticcoaching.com">chenzoholisticcoaching.com</a>.
With love, Chenzo Holistic Coaching Founder of The Purpose Path Podcast

You are sitting in a meeting, or maybe you are just driving home, and someone offers to help you. It is a simple gesture. They offer to carry a bag, or take a t

The armor you forgot to take off

Read essays on somatic healing, emotional trauma, sensitivity, and finding purpose. Written by Chenzo, holistic coach, empathic healer, tarot reader, and founder of The Purpose Path Podcast. New posts weekly.


Chenzo Holistic Coaching Blog: Somatic Healing, Sensitivity & Purpose

Read essays on somatic healing, emotional trauma, sensitivity, and finding purpose. Written by Chenzo, holistic coach, empathic healer, tarot reader, and founder of The Purpose Path Podcast. New posts weekly.

Dutch

German

English

{"en":"☑️ I agree to the terms &amp; conditions and privacy policy."}

The armor you forgot to take off

The armor you forgot to take off

Related Posts

The kitchen floor on a Sunday night

The quiet kitchen before the noise begins

EP04 Tom Snow on The God That Stopped Hiding

EP03 Sandeep Gandhi on Your Highest Potential

A Simple Reminder