Some people arrive at their True Self Threshold in a blaze of fire.

For those whose fire rises quickly, the experience can feel both overwhelming and shameful, the heat blooming in the chest before a thought can form, the sharpness in the voice that moves faster than breath, the eruption that leaves a hollow ache in its wake. You don’t choose this reaction. You don’t want it. It happens automatically, instinctively, long before you have a chance to intervene.

But beneath the shame and confusion lies a deeper truth: your anger is not a flaw. It is an unconscious adaptation, an inner guardian shaped by the world you grew up in. An inner guardian shaped long before the mind could form language around it. Anger rises because, in that moment, the nervous system senses threat;  physical, emotional or social danger: dismissal, disrespect, invisibility, the possibility of being overpowered and harmed. What looks like “overreacting” is often a guardian that rises from the oldest part of your nervous system, this is what we call your Fight guardian and its sole role is to keep you safe.

And to understand how such a guardian forms, we step into Lena’s story; a story shaped not by choice, but by the world she grew up in...

      Lena was raised in a neighbourhood where violence lived just beneath the surface, known by everyone and spoken about by no one. It was the late 80s, a time before the Me Too Movement, before trauma had language, before the vulnerable were openly protected. Girls were expected to be pretty, polite, agreeable. Not opinionated, not wild and certainly not fiery.

The silent lessons were the ones that shaped her most. Lena watched the gentle ones in her life; the quiet women, the sweet girls, the sensitive boys, shrink themselves to stay safe. She saw the vulnerable mistreated. She saw harm occur in plain sight while everyone else looked the other way. Submissiveness wasn’t rewarded; it was dangerous. Softness wasn’t admired; it was exploited. And her body learned what no adult ever said aloud.

Softness is unsafe.
Silence is erasure.
Strength is survival.
Fire is protection.

These weren’t conscious beliefs.
They were atmospheric truths her nervous system absorbed before she even knew she was learning.

By adolescence, Lena’s emotions didn’t simmer; they ignited. She wasn’t trying to be difficult. She was trying to exist without being overpowered.

At thirty-two, that instinct still lived inside her.

One evening, after yet another argument she hadn’t meant to start, Lena sat alone in her parked car. A colleague’s dismissive comment, small, almost forgettable, had triggered something ancient. Her chest tightened, her breath shortened, her words rose like sparks catching dry air. Minutes later she was outside, trembling, ashamed, exhausted.

“Why do I keep doing this?” she whispered, pressing her palms to her eyes.

But this time, something inside her shifted. Beneath the fire, she felt a small, trembling presence, a younger part of herself shaped by a world where softness was dangerous and submissiveness was taken advantage of. This part didn’t speak in words. It spoke in sensations, in memories held in the body rather than the mind.

It was the child who witnessed violence no one reported. The girl who saw gentle people vanish into compliance, and the teen who learned that if she didn’t fight for her boundaries, she would be at risk too.

Lena didn’t reason with this part, she recognised it.

A breeze drifted through the open window, carrying eucalyptus and the faint scent of the ocean. Instinctively, she placed a hand over her heart, not as a technique, but a compassionate remembering.

“I protected myself the only way I knew how,” she whispered inwardly. “And now Im ready to use my sovereignty as my boundary. They have no power over me.”

She felt her Fight Guardian relax inside her, not dramatically, but undeniably. Its fire eased, and its grip loosened. Not because she suppressed it, but because it finally felt seen, understood, and was offered the opportunity to see that she had grown, she was wiser, more capable and that maybe she would be able to hold her ground now, without the fight.

In that quiet moment, Lena crossed an invisible threshold, from automatic reaction into conscious presence, from inherited limitation into emerging potential.

When she turned the ignition to drive home, she wasn’t running from the day. She was returning differently, clearer, softer, and more whole than she’d felt in years.

Your True Self Realisations

Let yourself breathe as you reflect. This is not self-critique. This is True Self connection.

• Where in your life does anger rise faster than your breath can catch.
• Can you sense the younger part of you that learned to fight to feel heard.
• Can you offer that part compassion for the burden it carried.
• What might shift if your fire became guidance instead of defence.
• Who could you become if your power no longer needed to protect you from the world, but could help you shape it.

When you are ready to transform your Fight Guardian from a force of survival into an ally of sovereignty, the True Self Rhythm will show you how, meeting your patterns in the exact moment they activate and guiding you across every threshold of your becoming. Begin your True Self Quest when you feel the call.