I am currently in San Francisco, standing in one of the most abundant places on earth: a Google office kitchen.
My friend, who works there, invited me over. If you know anything about Big Tech campuses, you know the setup - unlimited food, drinks, snacks, everything high quality, everything free. We walked in, and he told me to grab whatever I wanted.
But as I reached for a snack, I froze.
A staff member walked by, and my heart immediately hammered against my ribs. I pulled my hand back. I looked at my friend, whispering, "Can I really pick anything? Are you sure they aren’t going to query you? Is this safe?"
My friend looked at me, confused. "No, no, don't be like that. This is Google. You’re good. Just be yourself."
Just be yourself.
It sounds like such a simple instruction. But in that moment, I realized something profound: I couldn't be myself because my body didn't feel safe enough to be me. I was standing in paradise, surrounded by free food, but my nervous system was reacting as if I were stealing bread in a war zone. I was waiting for the punishment.
The Invisible Wall
We often talk about mindset, discipline, and laziness. We look at people and judge them by their actions. But we rarely talk about the invisible engine running the show: the nervous system.
I realized this wasn’t just about the snacks at Google. This same "freeze" response happens to me in my daily life, particularly when I’m under pressure.
Right now, I have people I need to communicate with - financial obligations to settle, emails to answer, business partners waiting for updates. The logical part of my brain knows exactly what to do: Pick up the phone. Explain the situation. Set a timeline. It is a simple administrative task.
But when the phone rings, I don't see a "task." My body registers a threat. My heart rate spikes (made worse by the coffee I drink to stay awake, which only adds fuel to the anxiety fire). My chest gets heavy. And instead of acting, I freeze.
To the outside world, this looks like avoidance. It looks like I’m irresponsible, or unorganized, or maybe just lazy. But internally, it is a physiological short-circuit. When your nervous system is dysregulated - when you are stuck in "fight, flight, or freeze" - your brain shuts down the logic center and hands the keys to the survival center.
You cannot strategize when your body thinks it is being hunted.
The Silent Battles
This makes me think about how many people we walk past every day who are fighting these silent, invisible battles.
We see a student who isn't turning in assignments and think they don't care about their future. But maybe they are dealing with a family crisis that has their nervous system so fried they literally cannot process information.
We see someone snap in traffic or get aggressive over a small mistake, and we think they are a jerk. But maybe they are living with the PTSD of a past accident, or the weight of a debt that wakes them up at 4:00 AM every morning.
The reality is, trauma and stress are not written on our foreheads. You can't see a dysregulated nervous system. You can only see the side effects: the hesitation, the aggression, the "laziness," the fear.
Regulate Before You Calculate
I am learning that you cannot force your way through this with just "positive thinking." You cannot simply "hustle" your way out of a freeze response.
If I want to be able to grab a snack at Google without fear, or answer that terrifying phone call, or fix the problems in my business, I don't need to yell at myself to work harder. I need to find a way to let my body know: You are safe. No one is chasing you. We can handle this.
We need to be kinder to ourselves and the people around us. Everyone is carrying a heavy load, and sometimes, the reason they can't move forward isn't because they don't want to. It's because they are frozen.