Everything's an Emergency… Until You Realize It's Not
If you've ever caught yourself rushing through your life like you're in a constant fire drill… hi. Welcome. This one's for you.
Because here's what I learned the hard way:
Sometimes the problem isn't your kids. Or your schedule. Or your business. Or your "lack of patience."
Sometimes you're just operating from a version of yourself that thinks control equals safety.
And that version? She's exhausting to be.
(Prefer to listen? This is Episode 1 of the 17 Minutes Podcast — [listen here](ADD EPISODE LINK))
The kitchen moment that cracked me open
A couple years ago, I was standing in my kitchen yelling at my kids to move faster so we could get out the door for school.
And I had this awful, crystal-clear thought:
I feel like I'm yelling at employees.
Not my kids. Not two little humans with nervous systems and feelings and their own stuff going on. Employees.
We've got a tough morning routine in our house — one of my daughters has separation anxiety that's really triggered by school. The transition is hard. The emotions are big. The timing feels impossible.
But in that moment, I wasn't meeting the moment with love. I was meeting it like a boss trying to manage underperforming staff.
My husband didn't even need to say anything. He just looked at me — and I could see it in his eyes.
This isn't helping.
And he was right.
The real problem: I was living like everything was an emergency
That moment wasn't about school drop-off.
It was a symptom of a bigger pattern: I was moving through life like everything needed to happen now, and my way, or everything would fall apart.
Urgency. Control. Pressure. Managing everyone's emotions. Trying to keep everything together. Never being able to exhale.
And here's the part that stings:
At the time, I was running a seven-figure business. I was holding everything in my family — schedules, calendars, bills, social life, the emotional support role, the "keep it all together" role.
I truly believed: If I can juggle it all without dropping anything, then I'm worthy.
Good wife. Good mom. Good entrepreneur. Good human.
But that day in the kitchen? That was the day I realized I wasn't being who I wanted to be. I was being who I thought I had to be to keep it all from collapsing.
When behavioral science entered my life (and everything started making sense)
A couple weeks later, a mentor introduced me to behavioral science.
And as I started learning it, something clicked.
I finally understood why I was moving at hyper speed. Why I needed everything done immediately. Why "slowing down" felt like a literal threat to my survival.
I wasn't just "Type A." I wasn't just "intense." I wasn't just "bad at relaxing."
I was running a pattern. A survival strategy. One I'd probably been running since I was a kid.
And once you can see the pattern, you can stop letting it drive.
If any of this sounds familiar, it's probably not the real you
Let me reflect this back to you.
If you're moving through life like everything is an emergency, like you need to control the timeline, like you're responsible for everyone's emotions, like you're trying to keep everyone functioning while you're exhausted from holding it all…
There's a really good chance this isn't who you actually are.
This is conditioning. A protective mechanism. A learned way of surviving pressure.
And it can be unlearned.
The real you doesn't need to control everything to be okay
Here's what I mean when I talk about your "authentic self":
The real you doesn't need to control people, schedules, or outcomes to feel safe. She doesn't need to prove anything to be worthy. She can drop a ball and handle it. She can let other people have emotions without rushing in to fix them. She can move at her own pace and still trust things will get done.
There's peace in that version of you. Trust. Laughter. Creativity. Joy.
But when you're running urgency and control? Joy becomes conditional.
You only feel good when everything is working, all the boxes are checked, no one needs anything, nothing is messy, you're "caught up."
And let's be honest — when is that ever? So you just… never feel good. You're chasing a finish line that keeps moving.
The free spirit doesn't disappear — she just gets a really tiny schedule
This part matters, especially if you've followed me for a while.
I'm naturally a free spirit. Creative. Loving. Funny. Expressive. Kind of a goof.
But somewhere in my early thirties, the responsibilities got heavy. More pressure. More caregiving. More bills. More people needing things from me.
And slowly, without realizing it, I started shrinking.
That version of me — the playful one — didn't vanish. She just became available in tiny windows. Only when everything was handled. Only when I'd "earned" her.
And if that hits you? Yeah. Me too.
Two questions that changed how I show up
This is the practical part — and it's simple enough to use in the moment.
When you catch yourself gripping, rushing, controlling, snapping, spiraling… pause and ask:
"What place am I operating from right now?"
Am I operating from trust or fear? Am I grounded or trying to manage everything? Am I present or running a mental sprint three hours ahead of where I actually am?
"What am I running from?"
This question changed my life because it exposed the real engine behind my urgency.
For me, I was running from disappointing people. Being a "bad mom." Not doing it right. Failing. Not being enough.
So I ran toward perfectionism. More money. More success. More control. More "doing it right."
But here's the thing about running from not-enoughness: you abandon yourself in the process. Because the real you doesn't need to run. She can walk at her own pace. She can handle hard moments. She can feel discomfort without trying to fix everything instantly.
The glass on the edge of the table
Here's the metaphor that helped me stop living in a constant state of bracing:
Imagine there's a glass near the edge of a table. And you keep your hand on it constantly because you're terrified it might fall — and then you'll have to deal with it breaking.
So you live on edge. Preventing mess. Preventing risk. Preventing reality.
But the truth is: you can clean up a mess. You can handle it. You've handled worse.
And when you finally trust that? Your nervous system stops sprinting. You stop treating life like an emergency. You come back to center.
The goal isn't "calm" — it's trust
For me, the shift wasn't about becoming some zen, unbothered person. (That's not me and it's probably not you either.)
It was learning how to drop urgency and find a center in myself that said: You've got this.
Not "you need to be everything for everyone." Not "you need to make sure this moment goes perfectly." Not "you need to manage everyone like employees."
Just: you can relax. You can handle what comes. You can actually live your life while you're living your life.
And the more your authentic self is in the driver's seat, the better everything gets. Your business. Your relationships. Your mornings. Your nervous system. All of it.
Try this today
Pick a moment you usually rush — getting out the door, opening your laptop, jumping into a meeting, making dinner, responding to a message that spikes your nervous system.
Then pause and ask: What place am I operating from? What am I running from?
No fixing. No judging. Just noticing.
That's where change starts.
Listen to the full episode
If this landed, Episode 1 goes deeper — the full story, the parts I didn't soften, and why I think this is one of the most important conversations we can have as entrepreneurs.
Links
Work with Robyn: https://www.robynsavage.com/services
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/robyn_savage
