Romanticize & Regulate: What Slowing Down Really Looks Like Right Now
What Slowing Down Really Looks Like When You’re Barely Holding It Together
Sometimes I feel like my brain’s trying to outrun my body.
I’ll be sitting there, nursing the baby, completely still and inside, it’s chaos.
A mental grocery list. A half-written text. A thought about something I said to my partner last night that suddenly feels too sharp.
And it’s like, my hands are steady, but my mind’s sprinting.
I used to hate those quiet feeding moments because they made me feel trapped.
I’d sit there thinking, “I could be getting so much done right now.”
But lately, I’m realizing that maybe that’s the problem: I’ve been chasing “done” for so long, I forgot how to just be.
That’s really where my whole “romanticize and regulate” thing started.
Not as a cute trend.
But as survival.
I didn’t notice how far gone I was until my daughter started copying me.
Not my words, my tension.
The sighs. The rushing. The way I’d pick her up but still be halfway in my head.
She started sighing too. Huffing her way through playtime. Racing her toys around like the point was to finish, not to have fun.
It gutted me.
Because I knew exactly where she learned it.
And in that moment, I realized: I’m not modeling peace. I’m modeling pressure.
So something had to change.
Not because I wanted a “better routine,” but because I could feel myself slipping.
The irritability was constant.
The irrational thoughts crept in fast: you’re falling behind, you’re not doing enough, everyone else has this figured out.
I’d hand the baby to my partner and still feel like I was on call.
And when I finally slowed down long enough to notice it, my body felt wrecked.
Tight shoulders. Shallow breath. A nervous system that didn’t know what “rested” meant anymore.
That’s when I started building what I now call my Romanticize & Regulate rhythm: tiny practices that help me come back to my body before my brain convinces me I’m failing.
It wasn’t fancy.
It was things like:
- Standing outside barefoot after the first morning feed.
- Drinking water before coffee.
- Naming the feeling instead of swallowing it.
- Letting my daughter “help” even when it made a mess, because connection mattered more than control.
Bit by bit, I started remembering what grounded actually feels like.
The Shift
I used to think romanticizing motherhood meant pretending it was beautiful all the time.
Now I know it’s about being present with what’s real.
Romanticizing is slowing down while I stir oatmeal instead of rushing through it.
It’s noticing how my son’s breath steadies when I do.
It’s realizing that the goal isn’t to make life quieter, it’s to make myself calmer inside the noise.
Because this season isn’t soft. It’s sticky and loud and hormonal and hard.
But it’s still sacred.
And when I started regulating my nervous system instead of fighting against every feeling, that’s when the beauty started to show up.
Not because life changed, but because I did.
The Real Work
Sometimes I still spiral, especially around 5 p.m. when everyone’s melting down and my patience is running on fumes.
Sometimes I still resent how my partner gets to step away, even when I know he’s trying.
Sometimes I still catch myself chasing the “next thing” just to feel in control again.
But these days, I notice it faster.
I breathe deeper.
I soften before I snap.
And that, to me, is progress.
That’s regulation.
That’s slow living.
That’s what I mean when I say “romanticize and regulate.”
It’s not a perfect morning routine.
It’s a nervous system that finally believes it’s safe to rest.
I built the Romanticize & Regulate Guide out of this exact season: from the middle of the postpartum fog, the toddler jealousy, the overstimulation, and the messy attempts at calm.
It’s for the moms who don’t want a productivity plan.
They just want to feel okay again.
If that’s you , if you’re craving a way to actually enjoy this stage instead of surviving it, then peek inside the guide.
It’s everything I used to need: rhythm, grounding tools, nervous system resets, and simple mindset shifts to make motherhood feel slower, gentler, and more yours again.
