This is one of the hardest and most important transitions after long-term abuse.
Distrusting calm wasn’t a flaw — it was adaptive. Now your nervous system needs help updating its rules.
I’ll explain why calm felt dangerous, then how to retrain trust in it using neuroscience, not positive thinking.
1. Why calm used to feel unsafe (this matters)
In abusive environments, calm was often the prelude to harm.
Your nervous system learned patterns like:
- Calm → tension building
- Calm → walking on eggshells
- Calm → something bad is coming
- Calm → vigilance must increase
So your brain paired absence of threat signals with anticipatory danger.
Neuroscience-wise:
- The amygdala learned calm = uncertainty
- The insula (body awareness) learned to scan harder in stillness
- The HPA axis stayed activated even without stressors
This is why calm can feel:
- eerie
- empty
- suspicious
- “too quiet”
Your body wasn’t broken — it was accurate for the environment you were in.
2. The mistake many survivors make
They try to convince themselves calm is safe.
But safety is not cognitive.
It’s somatic.
Telling yourself “I’m safe now” doesn’t work if the nervous system hasn’t experienced safety yet.
Trusting calm comes from repeated neutral outcomes, not reassurance.
3. Reframe calm correctly (this is crucial)
Don’t think of calm as:
“Everything is fine”
Think of calm as:
“Nothing needs to be managed right now”
That distinction removes pressure.
Calm is absence of demand, not promise of permanence.
4. How to build trust in calm (step by step)
Step 1 — Let calm be brief
At first, don’t aim to “stay calm”.
Let it come in seconds or minutes.
Notice it.
Don’t hold it.
Don’t analyse it.
This prevents the nervous system from feeling trapped.
Step 2 — Track what happens after calm
Your brain learns by outcome.
Each time calm occurs, gently observe:
- Did danger follow?
- Did something bad happen?
- Did I lose control?
When the answer is no, the brain updates:
“Calm did not precede harm this time.”
This is memory reconsolidation.
Step 3 — Anchor calm to the present, not the future
Trauma links calm to anticipation.
Instead, practice:
- “Right now, nothing is required of me.”
- “In this moment, I am not being tested.”
This keeps the prefrontal cortex online without triggering vigilance.
Step 4 — Expect grief or guilt to surface
When calm arrives, suppressed emotions often rise.
This does not mean calm is wrong.
It means:
- Stress hormones dropped
- Emotional access reopened
- Deferred feelings are processing
If sadness appears, tell yourself:
“This is happening because calm is safe enough now.”
That prevents misattribution.
5. Why calm feels “boring” or flat at first
Abuse conditions the dopamine system to:
- associate intensity with aliveness
- associate relief-after-pain with connection
Calm lacks dopamine spikes.
At first it may feel:
- dull
- empty
- anti-climactic
This is dopamine recalibration, not loss of vitality.
Over time, calm becomes:
- spacious
- grounded
- quietly satisfying
6. A key nervous-system rule to install
Say this internally when calm appears:
“I don’t have to do anything with this feeling.”
No action.
No preparation.
No vigilance.
That single permission reduces relapse into hypervigilance.
7. How calm becomes trustworthy over time
Trust builds when:
- Calm appears during movement, not just rest
- Calm coexists with uncertainty
- Calm doesn’t disappear when plans change
- Calm survives other people’s moods
You’re already experiencing this — calm during busy days is a major milestone.
8. The final reframe (hold onto this)
Calm is not the absence of danger.
Calm is the presence of self-trust.
Your nervous system is learning:
“If something changes, I can respond.”
That’s why calm is possible now.
One gentle question to ask yourself when calm feels strange:
“Is anything actually required of me right now?”
If the answer is no, let calm stay — even briefly.
