I took an 18 month beat in plain sight

What immigration taught me about fight-or-flight, control, and the unexpected lessons of being in the silence..

I took an 18-month beat in plain sight. I’m not 100% sure how to explain this, but I’m going to try.

I was still pushing hard - working long hours, chasing growth, staying visible - but it was a beat nonetheless. A quiet pause wrapped in productivity. One you might say was born from the hush that followed immigration… the stillness, the disorientation, the silence beneath the noise.

I grew up in a household that shaped me into someone with a hypervigilant amygdala. I’ve been running for a very long time. Running from swim practice to school, racing to meetings, squeezing in a shower after a long cycle before making lunch with friends on time. Hustling to finish work after an all-nighter, grabbing yet another caffeine spike to power through the day. I’ve never ‘had time’ to be sick, I took client phone calls while having my makeup done on my wedding day.

Here’s the truth though: I loved it. I lived for it. I thrived in it.

Reflecting on life - my habits, my pace, the way I operate in the silence - I realised this way of being is my familiar. It’s all I’ve ever known.

The environment I grew up in was disciplined. Intense. Structured. There was no room for “taking your time” or “seeing how it goes.”

I was raised on phrases like:
- “Don’t drag your feet.”
- “How badly do you want it?”
- “You’d better work for it.”
- “Don’t waste time.”
- “Don’t be lazy.”
- “If you’re only going to do it halfway, then don’t bother at all.”

A participation medal was not a thing. There was always a standard, always a push. Things had to be done fast and efficiently. There was an unspoken rule that emotion came second to action. Rest had to be earned and beneath it all, a quiet but relentless pressure: be prepared, stay sharp and don’t fall behind.

Then I immigrated.

And suddenly - wow! It was quiet!

Being an entrepreneur in a new country, I had nowhere I had to be. No clients demanding face-to-face time. No Champagne Tuesdays celebrating wins. Attending networking events where no one knows you, no one ‘catches up’ with you, No echo chambers in the gym. Just… quiet. It suddenly felt like an abundance of time.

We all have that list of things we’d do if we just had the time. Let me tell you - when that time arrives in a 24-hour travel window to your new home, seemingly out of nowhere… it hits differently.

This kind of quiet doesn’t come from a holiday, or a retreat. It comes from going from a packed life to what feels like the extreme of off-the-beaten-track quiet.

It hits in waves - depression, loneliness, deep contentment, peace, anxiety, joy, vitamin D deficiency (real talk) - name it, I felt it.

To add a little spice to that emotional rollercoaster, my fight-or-flight mode was thoroughly confused.

Two weeks into living in the UK, I nearly took out a man at a train station. I genuinely believed he was “creeping up” on me as I typed out an email on my phone. He wasn’t. He was buying a ticket from the machine behind me. He ended up apologising profusely while I stood there highly embarrassed - all 1.5 metres of me, South African adrenaline and all - convinced I was about to be mugged.

I kept feeling like I’d forgotten something every time I went for a run. Turns out, it was just my pepper spray - the one I no longer needed, but had carried back home for years.

When things got quiet, I thought I’d feel peace.
Instead, I felt pressure.

Not from outside, but from inside.
As if silence itself needed managing.

I started craving more structure, more order, more control.

You know that saying - “you’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with”? Well, what happens when those people are no longer there? When your everyday chats, the ones you didn’t even realise shaped your rhythm, just… stop?

You’re left with the silence of your memories - good and bad. You watch them fade in the rear-view mirror, and suddenly, you become the average of your own habits. The average of the content you consume. The books you read. The energy you choose.

The quiet shows you who you are - and who you’ve been performing as.

Now, 18 months in, and although my amygdala is still very much online, I’ve started to adjust and although my internal drive will always be there, I’ve had to rewire how I measure progress.

I believe that hyper-vigilance has served me incredibly well in so many ways. It got me here. I never want to “lose” it completely. However I’m starting to believe there’s another way.

Maybe it’s not about doing everything.
Maybe it’s not about controlling everything.
Maybe it’s about learning how to feel safe - without being in survival mode.

I still believe structure and order win the day - just with a different strategy behind them now. A different energy. The result? A different kind of success altogether.

The personal growth and the business growth I’ve seen unfold over the past 18 months has been beautiful and I look at it with an immense sense of gratitude.

If ever you find yourself with the option to take a beat in plain sight - still grafting, still showing up, but watching as life unfolds from a distance while not being in the mix- I dare you to take it!

It will change everything!