My Brain, My Nervous System, and My Freedom

I’ve Always Been Me

There are a few things I know for sure about myself now that I didn’t know when I was younger.

One, I’ve always had my own path.
Two, I’ve always been creative.
Three, my nervous system tells the truth before I can always find the words for it.

When I was younger and didn’t know myself, I used to follow trends. Honestly, we all have at some point in our lives, whether we want to admit it or not. Kanye said it first: “We’re all self-conscious. I’m just the first to admit it.”

As I grew up and got to know myself, I realized, girl, you’ve been that girl all along. You’ve always been the one to follow your own path and do your own thing. You just weren’t always in spaces that made room for you to be yourself, and it showed, because I suppressed who I knew I could be. Hard love and mean girls will do that to you when you’re young, especially if you don’t have older women in your life teaching you how to be a friend to yourself first or how to love yourself first. No disrespect to my mom or my granny. I love them in the ways I’ve learned to, especially after understanding more of their life history.

God has truly allowed me to follow my own path, and when I found myself, it felt like my nervous system got freed too. Now that I know myself, I like what I like. It doesn’t have to be loud, overhyped, or everybody’s favorite for it to be good to me.

Quiet Isn’t Ingratitude. It’s Regulation.

I’m learning that I’m not someone who wants to isolate because I’m ungrateful for my life. I’m not someone who wants to pull away because something is wrong with me. I’m someone whose nervous system needs quiet. I need low sensory moments. I need space. I need softness. I need music. I need stillness. I need a shower and some peace before my thoughts can line up and introduce themselves properly.

As a counseling director in education, surrounded by a lot of personalities, people, and energies, and as a therapist who is deeply in love with the work, this requires another level of lock-in and attention to detail with my words. That’s exactly why I need those low sensory moments. They help me come back to myself so I can pour out with intention, care, and clarity, and when I reset, I can show up fully for the ones I love.

That matters.

ADHD, Hyperfocus, and the Need to Reset

One thing I’ve learned about ADHD is that a nervous system reset isn’t optional for me. It’s critical. It’s how I come back to myself. It’s not TV. It’s not extra noise. It’s not more stimulation piled on top of what I’m already carrying. It’s usually a period of doing nothing. Literally nothing. Just letting my body and mind come back home to each other.

That was comforting for me because it helped me realize that God didn’t bless me with this beautiful life and this beautiful family just for me to want to isolate all the time. It made me stop asking, what is wrong with me? Does He think I’m not grateful?

No. My nervous system just gets overloaded, and I need a reset.

Once I started learning more about ADHD, especially adult ADHD, it made some things make sense. ADHD is an executive functioning disorder, but for me it also shows up in this very specific way. My hyperfocus lives in creativeness. If I have an idea, if I’m helping someone open up their mind, if something clicks in me creatively, I’m gone. I’m all in.

That’s how my creative hyperfocus works. I can get a dopamine spark so strong that I’ll forget what I was doing while I’m still doing it. Right before writing this blog post, I was in the shower brain-dumping what felt like million-dollar thoughts into my notes app and completely forgot I still had conditioner in my hair. Then I dried off with my crispy, dry towel, realized my hair still needed to be rinsed, and had to get back in the shower. The worst part was knowing my towel was already damp from the first dry-off, because damp towels on my skin give me the ick. I don’t know if that’s an ADHD thing or just a me thing, but ew.

That’s the kind of stuff I’m talking about.

Where My Ideas Actually Come From

I also realized something else. Shower thoughts are not a joke for me. They’re real. Right when I get out of the shower, my ideas disappear. It’s the craziest thing. I really believe I’ve had some million-dollar ideas in the shower, and then the second I get out, they’re gone. The music stops, I step into the next thing, and my mind just closes the tab.

That’s why I have to write it down right then and there. My mind moves too fast, and if I don’t catch it in the moment, it’s gone.

What I’ve realized is that I’m a low sensory person. I don’t know if that’s the perfect term, but it fits. I like brown noise. I like neo soul. Music and my heart are just a perfect marriage. Add a long warm shower, with the water hitting my skin in that soft, soothing way, and my nervous system settles.

That’s where the ideas come.
That’s where the clarity comes.
That’s where I come back to myself.

Writing Is Where I’m Free

I think part of what I’m finally learning is that I don’t need to force myself into being the loudest, most visible, most always-on version of myself. That’s not where I do my best thinking. That’s not where I hear myself clearly. The world is too loud for me.

My nervous system is at complete ease when I freely write. Writing is therapy for me. I’m free in my thoughts when I write.

My Instagram name is free.dom.

Freedom, but also Dom is free.

It’s layered, just like me. It’s not just about being free in life. It’s about being free in my mind, free in my expression, free in my thoughts without shrinking them to make other people comfortable.

Those who get it, get it.

I’m Listening Differently Now

I’ve contemplated blogging for years. I stopped and started because I believed people don’t read. Now I understand something different. All it takes is one. One person to feel seen. One person to feel understood. One person to breathe easier.

That’s enough for me.

There are ideas I had years ago that I didn’t have the maturity to carry then. Now I’m in a different place. I’ve done the work. I’m learning God for myself.

I’m in a different place now, so when ideas come to me, I pay attention. When that voice in my head starts speaking, I listen differently now. The voice in my head is God (Two Chainz), and obedience hits different when you know that for real.

Even this writing feels different.

What a Reset Day Looks Like for Me

Today was one of those reset days. I got up slowly. I took a friend to run an errand, came back home, and relaxed the rest of the day. I checked in with my mom, my dad, my granny, my sister, my husband, and my daughter. I sent my son encouragement for finally starting to believe in the ability God gave him, on the court and in life. He’s awesome, and I know God is going to take my kids far. I believe in them.

I drank my rose-flavored Poppi, drank some water, and took my probiotic. I listened to music for hours, even songs on repeat, and it felt so soothing. I laid across the bed doing nothing. No sound. No pressure. Then I got in the shower for a long time, letting the water hit me, listening to music, and that’s where the ideas came.

Later, I cooked. I made ground beef, potatoes, bell peppers, and used one of those Trader Joe’s sauces. I ate a mixed salad with Brussels sprouts, bean sprouts, kale, basically a Cava-style super greens mix. Then I did my skincare routine.

To somebody else that might sound simple.

To me, that was care.
That was regulation.
That was me living the hope I try to give other people.

Music is one of my biggest regulators. If they took music away, I really don’t know what I would do.

I’m Not Scattered. I’m Layered.

So no, I’m not scattered. I’m layered.
No, I’m not doing nothing. I’m resetting.
No, I’m not too much. I’m just finally honest.

This blog, this writing, this mental mixtape, is me choosing to leave the world with an honest piece of me. It’s me choosing freedom.

They still matter.
I still matter.

This time, I’m not trying to write like anybody else.

I’m writing like me.

If you followed everything I just said in this post, you either have ADHD or you love somebody who does.

The POV of a Healing Therapist: Soft Life, Heavy Truths: The Weight of Doing the Work

This came to me at 12:03 AM. Nothing was wrong, and I was not spiraling. This is simply how my mind works. I reflect, I process, and I write when everything around me gets quiet enough for me to hear myself clearly.

That night, my mind landed on one thing: the weight of doing the work. Not the polished version people post, and not the version that fits neatly into a caption. I mean the real work. The internal work, the relational work, and the kind of work that changes how you carry yourself, love, protect your peace, and show up with other people.

Healing is beautiful, but it is also heavy. Growth is freeing, but it brings clarity. Clarity changes everything. That is what this mental mixtape was really about.

The Weight No One Sees at First

For a long time, I believed I had to carry everything. Every role, every expectation, and every responsibility felt like mine to hold. I thought being good at life meant being able to handle all of it at once. Looking back, that mindset was heavier than I even realized at the time.

At different points, that looked like trying to be everything to everybody. It looked like showing up fully in every role and trying to meet the expectations placed on women, mothers, professionals, and people who are used to being dependable. That level of pressure becomes normal if you sit in it long enough. Many people do not even realize how heavy it is until they finally put something down.

That realization shifted everything for me. Nobody can carry it all, and nobody is supposed to. Relief came with that truth, but so did perspective. I started to look back at who I was, what I was holding, and how long I had been holding it.

Growth became visible in a different way after that. I know I have grown, and I know I am more grounded, peaceful, and aligned than I used to be. There are still moments when I am learning how to fully trust that version of myself. That tension does not mean the growth is not real. It simply means growth has weight too.

The Weight of Knowing Yourself

Self awareness brings freedom, but it also brings discomfort. Knowing yourself makes it easier to articulate your thoughts, your feelings, and your boundaries. It also makes it easier to recognize when others are not in that same place. That difference can create tension, especially when your clarity makes other people uncomfortable.

There is a difference between being defensive and being self aware. There is also a difference between being combative and being able to communicate clearly. I have learned how to express myself with intention, and that has created space for peace. It has also revealed that not everyone knows how to receive someone who knows themselves.

Authenticity has felt both peaceful and isolating for me. There is peace in no longer performing and no longer shrinking to fit spaces that were never designed for you. At the same time, awareness increases. It becomes easier to recognize when other people are still performing, and that can make connection feel more complex.

There is peace in being yourself. There can also be loneliness in realizing not everyone else is. That does not make authenticity less valuable. It just makes it honest.

The Weight of Survival, Resilience, and Softness

Survival shaped me early. It taught me how to adapt, how to push through, and how to stay alert. That experience created resilience, and resilience taught me how to keep moving when life required it. It became part of how I learned to function.

Resilience has served me well, but it is not the full story. Softness does not always come naturally after survival, and rest does not always feel safe right away. Peace can feel unfamiliar even when life becomes more stable. The body can still respond as if it is in survival mode, even after the danger has passed.

There is a real weight in learning how to soften after years of being strong. I have had to learn how to rest without guilt and how to exist without constantly being on guard. That process takes intention. It takes unlearning, not just insight.

Resilience still matters to me, and it is part of how I move through the world. I also recognize that not everyone has had the same experiences, and not everyone has been required to develop the same level of adaptability. That difference can feel heavy at times. My role is not to rush anyone’s process. My role is to honor my own while respecting that growth looks different for everyone.

The Weight of Protecting Peace

Flow state feels aligned. It looks like listening to your body, honoring your capacity, protecting your energy, and moving with intention. It also requires boundaries. Boundaries are where a lot of people begin to feel the shift.

Boundaries can feel like distance to people who were used to a different version of you. They may have known a version of you that was more available, more dysregulated, or more willing to carry things that were never yours in the first place. That shift can be uncomfortable for others. It can also be necessary for you.

Protecting your flow is not abandonment. It is responsibility. It is choosing to show up for yourself in a way that makes you better for everyone around you. That is part of the weight too. Healthy choices do not always feel easy when people are still adjusting to your growth.

Spiritual alignment has deepened that awareness even more. Clarity has increased, and discernment has become sharper. It is easier now to recognize what feels genuine and what does not. Clarity is a gift, but it also comes with responsibility. It sometimes requires distance, and it requires trust in what you sense even when it is uncomfortable.

The Weight of Relationships Changing

The work does not stay internal. It shows up in relationships. It changes what you notice, what you tolerate, and what no longer feels aligned. Growth does not just shift your inner world. It shifts how you move with other people too.

Confidence brought me peace, but it also revealed discomfort in others. Confidence is often misunderstood, and it has been labeled as arrogance when it is actually alignment. I used to shrink myself to make others more comfortable. That is no longer a choice I make.

Standing fully in yourself can feel lonely in spaces where people are not doing the same work. Being different carries its own weight. There was a time when I moved with the crowd because it felt easier. Growth taught me that individuality brings peace, even when it also brings separation.

Standing out can make you visible in ways that attract both support and projection. That reality requires discernment, not shrinking. Competition has shown up in ways I did not expect, too. I do not move from comparison, and I do not operate from watching others. I thrive in collaboration, shared growth, and aligned creation.

Uninvited competition feels unnecessary because I am not even in that race. I am just being myself, doing my work, and staying in my lane. That lesson has helped me keep my focus where it belongs. Not everything requires my participation. Some things just require my discernment.

The Weight of Loyalty, Friendship, and Transparency

Loyalty has been a significant part of my story. I was raised to value loyalty deeply, and that shaped how I showed up for people. It also led to moments where loyalty was not returned. That realization is heavy, and it changes the way you see relationships.

Discernment has grown from those experiences. Loyalty still matters to me, but I recognize it more clearly now. I no longer confuse history with safety or closeness with consistency. That kind of clarity may come through pain, but it still matters.

Friendship has evolved in similar ways. Being a good friend has always meant showing up, communicating, and being present. Not everyone operates that way, and not everyone knows how to support the strong friend. That reality can feel lonely, but it can also be clarifying.

Friendships change. Some deepen, some shift, and some reveal what they were always going to be. Growth makes that easier to see. Part of maturity is allowing relationships to be what they actually are instead of forcing them to become what you hoped they would be.

Transparency has remained one of my strengths. There is intention behind what I share, and it is not about oversharing. It is about connection. It is about helping people feel seen and reminding them they are not the only ones carrying what they carry.

There is risk in being transparent. Some people misunderstand, and some may attempt to misuse what is shared. Even so, truth spoken in alignment remains protected. I trust that fully. God shuts the mouths of lions for me.

The Quiet Weight of Being Proud

Pride has its own weight. There have been environments where celebration was not fully received, and that teaches you to minimize your wins. It teaches you to move quietly even when you have earned the right to be proud. That pattern can become familiar if you are not careful.

That pattern no longer serves me. I am mindful of what I share and who I share it with, but I am no longer interested in dimming my light to keep other people comfortable. Hard work deserves acknowledgment. Growth deserves recognition.

There is wisdom in being discerning, but there is also freedom in allowing yourself to shine. I do not have to hide what I worked for just because everyone cannot celebrate it properly. I can be thoughtful and still be proud. Both things can exist at the same time.

Closing

This reflection came from a quiet moment, but it revealed a lot. The weight of doing the work is not always visible. It can look like peace, boundaries, distance, or discernment. It can look like softness that had to be learned and clarity that had to be earned.

The work changes how you move. It changes how you connect. It changes what you carry and what you release. That is the weight. That is also the freedom.

If any part of this resonated, it may have named something for you.

Signed,

Dr. Dom Thomas, LPC, PSC

Not Every Client Will Be Ready

One year ago, while waiting for my license, I sat at my kitchen island and mapped out the vision for stepping into private practice. Just a month earlier, while sitting in church, I felt an assignment placed on my heart. My immediate response was, “Oh naw.” Yet here we are. Starting this practice was not something I stepped into alone. I am deeply grateful for a close friend who encouraged me, poured into me, believed in me, and gave me the support and tools I needed to get this practice off the ground. I will always be thankful for her. She is a real one. This first year has been filled with learning, growth, challenges, and deep gratitude for every person who has trusted this space with their story.

Reflections From One Year:

Not Every Client Will Be Ready. After one year in business, and after following an assignment from God that first connected with the 26 year old version of me, I have learned that some people are simply not ready for therapy. Some may not come back, and that does not always mean it is about you. Sometimes it is timing, finances, readiness, or the reality that you are not the right fit for where they are in that season.

Grace, Growth, and the Mission. Whatever the reason, give yourself grace and make peace with it. Stay focused on the mission, learn from your mistakes, and keep growing in your craft. Study your clients with care, knowing that each person is unique even when their stories and challenges may sound similar.

Honesty Creates Better Care. Being honest with yourself allows you to be honest with them. If someone is not a good fit for you, it is okay to admit that and refer them to someone who may serve them better. You will help some people deeply, and you will not be the therapist for everyone, and that is okay.

Therapists Need Grace Too. Healing is not linear, and growth takes time. That truth applies to our clients, and it applies to us as therapists too. The same grace we offer others, we have to learn to offer ourselves.

Continue to Focus on Your Business. I have never been someone who stays focused on what everyone else is doing. My mom used to tell us all the time, “Mind yo business.” That lesson stayed with me, and it still applies today, especially for anyone building something meaningful. This is a reminder for clients, business owners, and anyone walking in purpose: no one will ever do it the way you do it. Everyone has something within them that no one else has. It is unique to your DNA (Dr. Hope Udombon, UWG).

Bigger is not always better, and taking your time still matters. Success is not measured only by money or material things. It is measured by impact, by joy, and by the fulfillment that comes from doing work that feels aligned. When you practice with fidelity, integrity, and purpose, what is meant for you will come in abundance. Learn to lead from where you are. Do not shrink yourself. Trust who you are, because you deserve a seat at the table, or the opportunity to build the table yourself.

Signed,

Dr. Dom Thomas, LPC, PSC