Embracing the Protector Within – What Our Habits Might Be Trying to Solve
Hello and welcome!
Whether you're revisiting intentions from the start of the year, aligning with the energy of the lunar new year, or simply reflecting on goals set on your own timeline—you might have noticed a familiar voice creeping in:
“I want to follow through, so why do I keep getting in my own way?”
“I know this habit isn’t helping me, but why can’t I seem to stop?”
Maybe it's avoiding a tough conversation.
Not sending the email or application you keep drafting in your head.
Skipping the workout or the meal prep again.
Not reaching out to a coach, even though something in you feels drawn to.
Or maybe it's doom-scrolling, procrastinating, overthinking, overcommitting, or numbing out with food, social media, or staying busy.
Whatever the pattern—whatever the pull—we often meet it with frustration.
But what if we asked a different question?
What is this habit trying to solve?
What is it trying to protect me from, provide me with or accomplish?
Because underneath the habit, there’s often a part of us trying to help.
It just might be doing it in the only way it knows how—a way that once made sense, but may no longer serve us.
That endless scrolling? It might be trying to shield you from emotions you feel anxious about facing.
That overthinking? Maybe it's an attempt to avoid failure by finding the “perfect” solution.
Skipping the gym or putting off that project? It could be trying to protect you from discomfort, criticism, or not doing it “right.”
Even perfectionism or people-pleasing often began as strategies to stay safe or loved.
So many of our patterns were born in moments where we didn’t feel safe, seen, or in control.
And even if they no longer fit the life we’re building, they were doing their best with what they had.
That part of you is not your enemy.
It doesn’t need to be shamed, silenced, or exiled.
It needs your love.
Sustainable change doesn’t come from force.
It comes from connection—from learning how to connect and stay with the parts of ourselves we once tried to outrun.
When we meet these parts of ourselves with compassion—not judgment—we open the door to change that lasts.
We stop trying to wrestle ourselves into a new version and start tending to the fears that shaped the old one.
Of course, this kind of self-inquiry can feel confronting.
Sometimes just the idea of asking these questions brings up resistance:
“I don’t have time for this.”
“I already know why I do it—it’s just bad habits.”
“It won’t change anything.”
As Dr. Gabor Maté writes in The Myth of Normal:
“Our personalities are adept at throwing up roadblocks of rationalization when they sense we may be trying to unfasten or even question their hold.”
So, if you notice yourself checking out, brushing this off, or wanting to skip ahead, that might be another part of you—doing its best to keep you safe in the only way it knows how.
You don’t need to banish it. You can thank it. And still move forward.
A few gentle reminders when exploring your patterns:
Start with curiosity, not judgment: Simply notice what you're doing—without rushing to label it as wrong or bad.
Ask: What might this pattern be trying to help me avoid, secure or solve? Is it discomfort, rejection, failure, feeling not enough?
Explore what need it’s trying to meet: Safety? Certainty? Belonging? Validation?
Gently explore where it came from: When do you first remember responding this way? Even if you can’t pinpoint the exact moment, what earlier version of you might this be protecting?
Wrap the part of you that learned it in love: You might say, “Thank you for helping me survive back then. I’m here now. I’ll take it from here.” When we meet these patterns with love instead of shame, we build trust in ourselves. We create space to soften old strategies and offer new support.
Let it be felt, not just figured out: This work isn’t about explaining a pattern away. It’s about noticing when it shows up, pausing, and reconnecting with the part of you that wants to choose something new—more peace, more alignment, more ease. It’s about letting that part lead, even if it’s just one small step at a time.
The habits we’re hardest on ourselves about are often the ones that once made us feel safe.
And that’s worth honouring.
But it’s also okay to outgrow what once protected us.
It’s okay to build new ways of being—rooted in the life you’re choosing now.
Not because the younger you was wrong,
but because you’re ready to lead with love instead of fear.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina