The Power of Choosing Stillness Over Strategy

You want to send the text.

Not because it’s right. But because the silence is getting too loud.

You’ve replayed the last thing you said. You’ve scanned the thread for clues. You’ve half-drafted a message more times than you’ll admit.

You’re not looking for chaos. You’re looking for relief. But sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is nothing at all.

Not out of apathy. Not out of pride. But because your peace costs too much to keep trading for crumbs.

Why We Reach

We are meaning-making machines. The brain doesn’t like the unknown, so it creates stories to soothe the discomfort. In psychological terms, this is called “intolerance of uncertainty”. It's the tendency to view uncertain situations as stressful or threatening, even when they’re not.

Add that to attachment wounds, nervous system conditioning, and the dopamine loops of modern love, and you’ve got a recipe for over-functioning. Many of us confuse strategy for safety. We think if we just send the right text, perform the right vibe, show up in the right way, we’ll get chosen. We’ll get clarity. We’ll feel okay.

But clarity born from control is never real clarity. It’s a temporary fix that only deepens the pattern.

What Stillness Actually Means

Stillness isn’t about being above it all. It’s about not abandoning yourself just to feel momentarily okay. It’s choosing to stay with yourself — in your body, in your truth — without forcing an outcome.

It’s not passive. It’s wildly active.

It’s saying: I won’t trade my self-respect just to feel wanted for five seconds.

Here’s what choosing stillness can look like in practice:

5 Steps to Stay Grounded When You Want to Reach

(aka when your hands are itching to send a meme “casually” at 11:11 PM)

1. Notice the Urge

That stupid urge. The one that says “maybe I’ll just say hi” or “maybe if I send a meme they’ll respond” When you recognize it, that’s not weakness. That’s wiring.

Our nervous systems are conditioned to seek resolution. You’re not needy, you’re human. The urge to reach is often just a part of you trying to avoid abandonment, disappointment, or uncertainty. Instead of fighting it, meet it. Name it. Say, “Alrighty, there you are.”

This step isn’t about suppression. It’s about awareness. When you can witness the urge instead of becoming it, you shift from being reactive to being conscious. That’s not small. That’s everything.

2. Breathe

It sounds too simple to matter, but this one’s a nervous system hack in disguise.

Breathe …

Literally.

Before you act, inhale slow through your nose. Exhale twice as long through your mouth.

It gives your body a second to remember: You’re safe. You’re here. You don’t need to earn your worth right now.

When you’re emotionally triggered, your body enters a stress state — fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. And from that place, nothing you say will come from truth. It’ll come from fear. Before the DM, before the overthought paragraph, before the “hey, just checking in…” STOP. Breathe in slowly through your nose. Then exhale twice as long through your mouth.

Even one breath can bring you back to yourself. It doesn’t solve the ache. But it creates just enough space for the wiser part of you to take the wheel.

3. Name It

Say it out loud.

“I feel anxious. I feel ignored. I'm scared I’ll be forgotten.”

Write it down. Don’t let it stay vague. Is it panic? Is it grief? Is it the fear that you’ll be replaced or discarded? Is it that specific ache that says, “I need to feel wanted again”?

Giving the feeling language isn’t weakness, it’s regulation. Psychology calls this affect labeling, and it literally reduces emotional intensity by activating the prefrontal cortex (the wise, rational part of your brain).

The feeling wants a witness. Let that witness be you.

4. Ask the Hard Question

Now that you’ve slowed the spin, ask yourself:

Am I doing this because it’s truly how I feel — or because I’m uncomfortable and want to feel better right now?

Be radically honest, not about the other person — but about you.

If it’s about soothing yourself, that’s okay to notice. But give yourself that comfort directly. Don’t outsource it to someone who hasn’t shown up for you. Sometimes your strategy isn’t about connection. It’s about control. It’s about trying to tip the scale back in your favor. That’s okay to admit. You’re not bad for wanting relief. But choosing not to act from that place? That’s self-respect in motion.

And if you find the answer is “I’m just scared,” then let yourself be scared. Stillness isn’t about being unaffected. It’s about not outsourcing your calm to someone else’s response.

5. Return to the Body

Your mind will try to solve the ache. Your body is where it actually lives.

So go to the source. Place a hand on your heart. Feel your feet on the ground. Stretch your spine. Move your hips. Drink water. Touch something soft. Get back in your skin. Stillness doesn’t mean you freeze. It means you stop chasing. You can still move. Let it be inward. Let it be toward yourself.

When the emotion wants to launch outward like a boomerang, gently turn it back in. Let it land in your body. Hold it. Let it pass. This is what nervous system self-trust looks like in real time.

The Wisdom of Still Water

Think of your inner world like a pond. When something disrupts the surface, whether it’s a worry, a trigger, or a wave of longing, your first impulse might be to stir the water even more in an attempt to fix the disturbance.

But clarity doesn’t come by stirring. It comes when the surface settles. When you allow things to become still, what’s real becomes visible. What matters rises on its own. The pond clears without you needing to push it.

The same is true in love, especially the uncertain, electric kind.

The Courage in Doing Absolutely Nothing

People will say you’re missing out. That you should fight for what you want. That silence is weakness. But they don’t understand what you’re actually doing.

You’re sitting in the ache without abandoning yourself. You’re allowing the story to unfold without grabbing the pen. You’re trusting that if something is real, it doesn’t need force.

And that is the kind of bravery that will never leave you empty.

What Stillness Gives You

Clarity that’s not manufactured. Emotional sobriety. Energy reclaimed from chasing. The dignity of not over-performing.

And most of all, peace.

Choosing stillness doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you care enough about yourself to not hustle for worthiness. It means you’re not trying to outrun loneliness with strategy.

Stillness is the medicine. The power. The proof that you are safe even when nothing is happening.

You don’t need to make it happen.

You need to let it come, if it’s meant. And if not — you’ll still be here. Whole. Unshaken. Ready for what actually meets you.