Deep Breaths Won’t Fcking Work
Deep Breaths Won’t Fcking Work*
⚠️ CW: domestic violence, coercion, emotional trauma.
Her heart was vibrating with rage.
Last night had been the biggest fight at home yet.
Her Dad, yet again, just stood taking the verbal and physical slaps until the front door rattled in the frame as her Mam slammed the door on her way out.
Ava left soon after. Slipped out the back door, escaping to her boyfriend’s. She couldn’t look at her Dad’s pathetic face any longer.
She hated her Mam for being cruel, but she hated her Dad for being weak. For just standing there, letting it happen. For making her feel like she might hit him, too.
That terrified her most of all, the fear that she was becoming her Mam.
How long before she lost her temper like that?
“Just take a breath.” Are you serious?
Now here she was, in some school group, being told to breathe by a woman in Boden joggers and box-fresh New Balance trainers.
What did she know about this?
She breathed sweet air, not the stench of sweat, smoke, and last night’s fight.
Her boyfriend hadn’t been on top of her in the dark, trying to worm his hands into her clothes, pinching, rubbing, whispering, "Does that feel good?"
But sure.
Just take a fucking breath.
And all your troubles will float away like magic.
Will they fuck.
Ava clenched her jaw.
She wasn’t sure she could stay in the room without punching Miss Mindfulness in the face, which would definitely lead to getting arrested.
She needed to get out.
Doors slammed. Her heart pounded.
The thud of the door behind her echoed exactly like her Mam’s exit the night before.
And then, lurking in the corridor was Mr Dodds.
Beige outfit. Clipboard in hand. A sigh full of feigned disappointment.
“Oh, Ava… what are we going to do with you? Your temper is a problem. You need to learn to calm down or you'll never get anywhere. You have to learn to reg...u...late.”
He drew the word out in a patronising sing-song.
Ava’s fists curled tight, nails digging deep into her palms.
She wanted to scream at him:
Do you even KNOW how many people I haven’t punched today?!
She was saving lives out here. Hers included.
The fact she hadn’t told him to fuck off was an actual miracle.
“Ava, you look agitated. Let’s count to ten.”
“Fuck off.”
Oh well, too late.
A month later, Ava was dropped off outside the counselling service, her “last chance” to stay in college, according to Mr Dodds.
Interestingly, the counsellor looked as irritated with him as she did.
And she wasn’t like the group leader. She didn’t talk about breathing or letting things go or anger management.
In fact, she nodded along when Ava said those groups made her more stressed.
So Ava started to talk.
The counsellor told her she was living in a constant state of vigilance, her reactions were normal, considering.
That conversation led to a referral to the safeguarding officer. Then, social services. Initially, Ava was terrified.
But after one conversation, her Mam simply walked away to a different life.
Her Dad stayed and was finally offered support. Ava stayed in counselling.
Ava started learning what happened in her body when she felt unsafe.
What environments triggered her fight-or-flight.
What emotions were hiding underneath.
And ironically, she learned that breathing could help.
Not to fix everything. But to give her just enough space… to reg...u...late.
Stop Selling “Calm” Without Context
Mindfulness. Breathing. Relaxation strategies.
They can be life-changing, but not when they’re offered like a plaster over a bullet wound.
When you hand someone a coping tool without acknowledging the cause of their distress, you risk making them feel:
Misunderstood
Dismissed
Patronised
And worst of all, that the problem is with them
If someone is already in survival mode, being told to “take a breath” without context can feel insulting. It suggests their very human, very valid reactions are somehow inappropriate.
So instead…
Introduce coping strategies through conversation, not commands
Ask what support looks like for them
Don’t make regulation the goal before safety, context, and validation are in place
Because sometimes, not flipping out is the biggest act of self-regulation a person can manage that day.
And that deserves a little more credit.
💬 Let’s keep talking:
What’s helped you, or someone you work with, feel safe enough to regulate?