Your Nervous System Is Running Your Love Life
For a free audio of "When he ghosts, goes silent, or pulls away," go to www.savannanoelle.com/freeaudio.
I moved to Cairo for a man during the Arab Spring back in 2012.
I left a cute apartment and a corporate job at a temporary agency in Downtown Denver because I didn’t want to regret every wondering “What if?”
I was in love and convinced this was the great romance of my life. And for a while he was. To be fair, he was and still is an amazing human. I just had to know if this move and our relationship could stand the test of time and, well, a freakin’ revolution.
The streets weren’t that safe then, and I didn’t speak the language very well. Everyone back home thought I was nuts for moving there during such volatility. Military in the streets, protests, bombs going off across town, men following me along the non-existent side walks side streets when I tried to do anything as small as buy groceries or take a taxi somewhere. My Egyptian boyfriend was photographing the happenings in Tahrir Square, often in danger of being tear gassed or right in the middle of the conflict. And I — strong, independent, “I can handle anything” me — was depending on him for mostly everything. I often felt tense and crazy, unsure how to navigate each day.
I didn’t realize until years later that I lived that entire chapter of my life in nervous system activation. There was no rest. No regulation. Every nerve was on watch constantly.
And eventually, it came out sideways. I lashed out at him in a way I didn’t recognize. He saw the scared little girl underneath the woman I’d built, and at the time I could not understand what was happening to me.
I didn’t have the tools yet. I hadn’t built the capacity. My window of tolerance was paper-thin — and I called it love. I mean, it was definitely love. But what he represented for my nervous system was both safety and familiarity in his unavailability. He was physically and somewhat emotionally safe, but also mirrored the unavailability I felt as a child.
Most of the time, when we think we are choosing partners — choosing to stay, choosing to leave, choosing to text back too fast or pull away or get small or get loud — we are not actually choosing. Our nervous system is choosing for us. Based on what it learned was safe a very long time ago. Usually before we had language for any of it.
And when your nervous system is in chronic activation, what you experience in love is not love. It’s relief. Brief moments of relief when he texts back. Brief moments of relief when he says the thing you needed him to say. The relief feels so much like love because it feels so much. The contrast is what’s electrifying. The relief is what’s addicting. It breeds codependency.
You weren’t crazy. You weren’t broken. You were hooked on the relief.
This week’s episode is the first time I’ve put this all in one place in a succinct way— how anxious attachment lives in the body, why self-abandonment isn’t a moral failing, why chemistry is so often recognition rather than fate, and what it actually takes to do the work. (Spoiler: you cannot think your way out. I tried for years.)
If you’re in the middle of a silence right now and you don’t know what to do with your body — I made a free audio for that exact moment. It’s called ‘When He Goes Silent.” Grab it at savannanoelle.com/freeaudio.
Listen wherever you get your podcasts. I’d love to know what landed for you. I’d be super grateful.
With love, Savi
*If you want to go deeper into this work with me, my 1:1 coaching program Come Back to Yourself is built on exactly what we talked about here. You can find it at savannanoelle.com/comeback.
Mixed, Mastered, and Recorded at Luna Sound
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