For a long time, I wouldn't have described myself as an anxious person.
I had a good career, worked in a senior creative production role, was reliable, organised, productive and generally pretty good at getting things done. I liked being busy. I liked doing well. I liked having lots going on. From the outside, I had it together. And in many ways, I did.
But there was something I didn't recognise at the time. I was working incredibly hard to keep myself feeling OK. I knew I needed to cycle to work, do yoga, eat well and get enough sleep. Not simply because these things were good for me, but because if I didn't, I'd start to feel really wobbly. My anxiety would creep up, I'd become irritable and exhausted, and I couldn't understand why. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I just thought it was life—living in a big city, doing a busy job.
Looking back, I can see that I was spending a lot of energy trying to stay on top of everything, including myself. I was constantly anticipating, managing and preparing for what might happen next. I didn't realise how much of my life was being lived in the future.
When being capable becomes part of who you are
Being capable has always been part of my identity. I was the person who got things done, and I was good at it.
Something I discovered much later, during an EFT session, was that being productive and capable had been praised when I was growing up. It was one of the ways I received love. That was an interesting realisation. I hadn't previously connected those things.
I don't believe my productivity was a way of avoiding my emotions. I genuinely enjoyed my work, being busy and doing things well. But understanding where some of those patterns came from helped me see myself differently. Sometimes the things we value most about ourselves have a history. They might be strengths we have developed, ways we've learned to feel secure, or behaviours that have been rewarded throughout our lives.
There's nothing inherently wrong with being capable, independent or productive. But it's worth getting curious about what happens when those qualities become something we feel we always have to maintain. Can we slow down? Can we say no? Can we let something go unfinished without feeling uncomfortable? And what happens when we can't?
My introduction to EFT wasn't about anxiety
I first came across Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT), in 2014.
Interestingly, I wasn't looking for help with anxiety or stress. I was fed up with being single and wanted a relationship. I had wonderful friends who regularly reassured me that there was nothing wrong with me. But I knew something wasn't quite adding up.
I had lovely male friends around me, and I genuinely wanted a relationship, but whenever things started getting closer, I'd experience this strange push and pull. I'd try, then find a thousand reasons why something wasn't right about the other person and pull away. I suspected there was something I was doing to keep love at arm's length, but I couldn't work out what it was.
A friend suggested EFT.
Within three sessions, something had shifted. I met someone and fell completely in love. He wasn't to be my life partner, but we stayed together for a year, and I loved him deeply. What struck me wasn't simply that I'd met someone. It was how quickly EFT had helped me access something I hadn't been able to resolve by thinking about it, talking it through or listening to my friends tell me I was perfectly fine.
I began to understand that there was an emotional response operating underneath my conscious intentions. Part of me wanted closeness, while another part was frightened of letting someone in. Having been married when I was younger, and having come away with a painful scar, I could begin to understand why. Something had needed attention, and tapping had helped me get to it. I was fascinated. I had to learn more.
Over the years, I've returned to EFT many times, working through unprocessed grief I hadn't even realised I was carrying, along with other emotional experiences and patterns that had continued to influence me. Eventually, what began as something I explored for myself became the work I now do professionally.
Anxiety isn't always about the thing you're worrying about
One of the biggest things I've come to understand is that anxiety often isn't actually about the immediate situation in front of us. Sometimes it's about what's underneath it.
An upcoming meeting might trigger anxiety, but perhaps the deeper fear is being judged, getting something wrong or not being good enough.
A relationship might bring up uncertainty, but underneath that could be an old experience of rejection, abandonment or being hurt.
A seemingly small decision might leave you feeling completely overwhelmed because it touches something much bigger than the decision itself.
This doesn't mean all anxiety comes from the past. Sometimes life really is difficult, circumstances are uncertain, and our nervous systems are responding to genuine pressures. But sometimes our present-day reactions carry the weight of an older emotional experience. We might be responding not only to what's happening now, but to what something reminds us of, what we fear might happen, or what we've learned to expect. And this is where I think we can approach anxiety differently.
Rather than immediately trying to get rid of it, what if we became curious?
What is the fear behind this feeling?
What am I anticipating?
What am I trying to prevent?
Does this feeling belong entirely to what's happening now, or is there something older being stirred up?
These are the kinds of questions that can begin to open things up.
What if you stopped fighting your emotions?
I think many of us fight difficult emotions because we're frightened of what might happen if we actually acknowledge them.
What will it mean if I admit I'm angry? What if I let myself feel the sadness? What if I acknowledge how frightened I really am? Will it become bigger? Will I lose control? Will I discover something about myself I'd rather not know?
So we distract ourselves, stay busy, rationalise, push things down or tell ourselves we shouldn't feel this way. Sometimes that works in the short term. But it doesn't necessarily resolve what's underneath.
My relationship with emotions has changed enormously through my own work with EFT. I still experience anxiety. I still get overwhelmed, particularly when I've taken on too much. I'm still practising saying no! But I no longer feel the same need to push uncomfortable emotions away. When something comes up, I try to allow it to be there. I get curious about it. I look at it from different angles, rather than immediately deciding it needs to go. Sometimes I discover a belief or an expectation that's been driving the feeling. Sometimes I uncover an older experience. Sometimes I simply need to acknowledge that something is difficult. And often, when an emotion has been properly heard and acknowledged, it begins to move on its own. It's almost as though it's done its job. I don't have to make it disappear. I don't have to force myself to feel positive. I just need to be willing to listen.
How does EFT help with this?
EFT combines elements of psychological exposure and cognitive approaches with gentle tapping on specific acupressure points on the body.
As we focus on a particular thought, memory, emotion or physical sensation, we tap through a sequence of points while staying connected to what we're experiencing. The combination of attention to the emotional issue and the physical stimulation of tapping can help reduce the intensity of the stress response. As that emotional intensity settles, we may find it easier to think more clearly, access memories and perspectives, and explore what is happening without feeling quite so overwhelmed by it. This is important because when we're highly activated, it's often difficult to see beyond the immediate fear. We can become caught in the same thoughts, the same predictions and the same attempts to control what's going to happen. Tapping offers a way to slow things down.
In a session, we might start with something as simple as:
What am I feeling right now?
Where do I notice it in my body?
What does this feeling seem to be connected to?
What am I afraid might happen?
What would it mean if that happened?
Have I felt this way before?
We don't need to know the answers before we begin. Sometimes the answers emerge as we work. And we don't have to go digging into the past for the sake of it. We follow what's relevant, at a pace that feels manageable. The aim isn't to force a breakthrough. It's to create enough space to understand and work with what's happening.
You don't have to be free of anxiety to move forward
Something I wish more people understood is that experiencing anxiety doesn't mean you're failing at life, doing something wrong or not managing yourself properly. It doesn't mean you need to become a calmer, more positive or more together version of yourself before you can get on with things. You can be capable and anxious. You can be successful and overwhelmed. You can love your life and still find parts of it difficult. The important thing is learning to recognise what's happening and having ways to work with it.
For me, that has meant moving away from trying to control every feeling and towards being more interested in what those feelings are telling me. Anxiety is a message worth listening to. Sometimes it's responding to what's happening right now. Sometimes it's pointing towards an older emotional wound or an experience that hasn't been fully processed. Either way, we don't need to judge ourselves for having it. We can acknowledge that it's here, accept that this is where we are right now, and begin to explore what might be underneath. And perhaps that's where things start to change.
If anxiety or overwhelm is something you're struggling with, EFT may offer a different way to work with it.
In my sessions, I use Clinical EFT and, where appropriate, Matrix Reimprinting and other integrative approaches to help people explore the emotional patterns and experiences that may be keeping them stuck.
You don't need to know what's causing your anxiety before you come. We can start with what's happening for you right now.