Meet Christy Holland

We recently connected with Christy Holland and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Christy, appreciate you sitting with us today to share your wisdom with our readers. So, let’s start with resilience – where do you get your resilience from?

Even answering this question presumes I believe myself to be resilient, and I have to admit, I wonder if that’s true. If resilience is about bouncing back from setbacks, adapting to challenges, and moving forward despite difficulties, I can certainly say I’ve done that. But does that mean I’m resilient?

I’ve faced a lot of challenges in my life, especially as a child—too many for a kid to handle, with not enough support. There was violence, loneliness, trauma, and a regular sense of feeling lost.

I think that the key to any resilience I’ve developed is found not in what happened. but in how I responded to it. As a child and young adult, I always wanted to use the painful experiences to help others. I think that was a key part of how I navigated some pretty rough stuff.

As I’ve grown, I’ve continued to believe in my value and purpose to help others. I hold myself accountable to grow, to improve, and to keep moving forward. I’ve found healing through exercise, education, healthy habits, friendships, therapy, yoga, and other practices. I try to find the positive in people and situations, even when it’s difficult.

But there have been times when I’ve held on too long, trying to make situations work when it might have been healthier to walk away. I can be hard on myself, which can sometimes do more harm than good. Despite my courage, I often find myself going it alone. I’m still learning how to balance trusting others while following my own life inner guidance. I think the key is in broadening my resilience to include caring for myself in the way that I care for others. Self care is so trendy right now, it can get eye rolls. However, true self care is not a massage or spa trip. Real self care is radical support of your feelings and your worth. Even the yucky feelings.

One of the toughest lessons in resilience for me has been learning to regulate my emotions. Growing up in an environment filled with violence and pressure made it hard for me to learn how to give my feelings space to exist. As a society, we don’t do this well, and when emotions become too painful, we push them down—leading to dysregulation. It’s tragic because dysregulation causes more pain, not only for ourselves but for those around us.

Breaking that cycle is challenging, but I’ve learned to sit with painful emotions—abandonment, betrayal, shame. I’ve learned that the way out is not to push the feelings away, but rather to support myself to feel them. I tell my clients that the way out is through. It’s not easy, but each time I make space for those feelings, I get a little stronger. And through that, I’m better able to support myself and those I care about.

Resilience, to me, is not about avoiding pain or pretending it doesn’t exist. It’s about learning how to feel it, support it, and keep moving forward, even when it’s difficult. It’s tough work, but it’s the only way I’ve found to truly heal.

I still work on myself every day. When I’m faced with challenges, younger versions of myself often resurface, bringing along old coping mechanisms. I’ve learned to thank those parts of me and reassure them that I’ve got this now.

It’s also interesting to see the reactions of people who’ve known me for a long time. For example, this past Christmas, my youngest daughter wanted to put up outdoor lights. I love them, but they always feel like such a financial racket. They break year after year, and in Pennsylvania, it’s freezing outside when you’re putting them up. The holidays always feel like there’s not enough time to do everything. But we’re out there, putting the lights up because she wants them. We face one challenge after another, and, uncharacteristically, I let her take the lead. Mostly because I’m frustrated by her detailed criteria for how they need to look.

After about an hour of struggle, the lights suddenly go out. We’ve blown the fuses. Historically, I would have lost it—yelling, ranting, and blaming her for insisting we do this. I would have complained about how it drained our time, money, and energy, just to fill landfills (which, by the way, is true). But instead of yelling at her, I paused. I took a deep breath and walked around the yard, tending to my frustration. I allowed myself to feel my feelings, and once I did that, I reminded myself how much I love her. I calmed down in about two minutes (a vast improvement from the endless rants of my past).

Here’s the funny part: my daughter, knowing she’s pushed me, watches me carefully. She knows I’ve acquiesced to her desire for the lights and can see my frustrations about the time, energy, and waste. But when I don’t erupt, her jaw drops and her head tilts in surprise. I walk around for a moment, say nothing, and when I come back, I calmly ask, with a considerable amount of strain in my voice, “What do you want to do now?” She takes over, problem-solving until the issue is resolved.

A couple of days later, she admitted she thought I was going to lose it when the lights went out. We laughed about how I walked around the yard instead of blowing up.

So, does that moment “repair” all the times I lost my temper with her in the past? I’m not sure. There will still be many nights I self-examine and wish I’d done better for her and her sister. I’ll still wish I’d been kinder to myself. I wish I had had a few more resources and hadn’t always felt it was up to me. But I do believe that our chances for healing are greater now because of the work I’ve put in. And, as a friend once told me, if we did everything right, what would our kids have to work through? She was kidding, but there’s truth in it. We all have the capacity to learn and grow through our experiences. The lineage of trauma can be broken, but it may take a few generations. Learning resilience is the same.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

Looking back, the three qualities that have been most impactful in my journey are empathy, self-awareness, and transformation. At the heart of everything I do is a deep focus on people. I’ve always sought to listen to and understand others’ stories so I can help them live lives filled with meaning, purpose, and joy. This is reflected in my work with organizational teams and leaders, in my writing, and in the classes, workshops, and therapy I provide. I believe my childhood experiences shaped my desire to create deeper support systems for others, helping them find paths forward that align with what matters most to them. My aim is to foster interconnection—helping people align deeply with themselves so they can build connections with others that support their purpose and enhance their joy. I believe spirit is a key component in discovering both purpose and joy.

If I were to offer advice to someone early in their journey, it would be to prioritize supporting your nervous system. When our nervous system is in balance, it allows us to connect with our spirit, which in turn guides both meaning and enjoyment. But when our nervous system is unsupported, we feel unsafe, which triggers feelings of uncertainty, discomfort, or fear. In response, we often reach for familiar strategies or tools from our past—approaches that have worked before. While this instinct is understandable, it can limit our ability to adapt to new situations and hinder growth and transformation. Therefore, I believe it’s essential to create space to notice how our nervous system and body are reacting, and to seek the support we need in those moments. By acknowledging and supporting our reactions, we can navigate them with a broader range of skills, opening ourselves up to new possibilities. Relying on old strategies or narrow thinking can reduce our options and limit growth.

I would encourage those early in their journey to engage in practices that help them connect with their body, emotions, and energy. Anything that shifts the focus from thoughts alone to incorporate somatic awareness can be transformative. This could be yoga, stretching to music, a walk in nature, or even sitting by a window sipping tea—whatever you choose, the key is to focus on the physical sensations of what you’re doing. When you notice your mind drifting (something that happens naturally) bring your attention back to feeling: notice sensations, breath, and energy. It’s really helpful to attend classes or join groups because, while this may sound simple, it’s not easy. I remember when my first teacher encouraged me to brush my teeth for two minutes and focus solely on the sensation. I was to notice how many times, in those two minutes, my mind would wander back to thoughts. It’s humbling to realize how often we seek thought because it makes us feel safe, busy, and in control. But when we disconnect from the signals of our bodies, emotions, and energy, we miss out on some of the most powerful tools we have for living a happier life.

Before we go, maybe you can tell us a bit about your parents and what you feel was the most impactful thing they did for you?

It’s interesting how, as an adult, talking about the tragic events of my childhood feels so complicated. It’s hard for me to explain comprehensively because there was just so much violence and emotional pressure. I often felt lost, and there was this constant pressure to fix things, to make things better—even though I was just a child. I felt like it was my responsibility, even though I didn’t have the tools to change anything. That said, I also knew my parents loved me deeply and were doing their best. I saw their efforts to provide a better life for my brother and me, moving us into a safer neighborhood and better schools, all with the hope of advancing our life experiences.

Now that I’m a parent, with two children who are emerging adults, I’m humbled by how they see me. Just like me, they see things from their own perspective. While it’s often painful to hear their version, it’s also shifted my perspective on my parents. They did so much better than their own parents were able to. My grandparents faced so many challenges and endured a difficult life, which impacted their ability to raise my parents in a way they might have wanted. As I reflect, I become less focused on blame or criticism, and I stop trying to assess who should have done what. Instead, I focus on supporting my children’s experience. This includes acknowledging my own feelings, while also making space for theirs. It’s incredibly challenging, but it’s worth the effort.

Ultimately, and without even intending to, I’ve become more appreciative of what it must’ve felt like for my parents. I can now see what they were working with, and how much they did to set us in the right direction. I can name three times that what they did literally saved my life and it took them deep sacrifice. All of that lives right alongside of the more tragic events in my childhood. This acceptance of all that happened, leads to more understanding and helps me connect with them on a deeper level. I believe many of us are battling long lineages of trauma and hurt, alongside joy and purpose. I’m starting to realize that by making space for my own experience and supporting my feelings, I create more room for healthier relationships. In doing so, I begin to see my parents differently, and a new path forward feels possible. I’m not sure what that path looks like yet, but it certainly feels better than the road behind me.

Contact Info:

• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BreakWideOpen
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/christyholland1/
• Other: https://ismeta.org/registered-somatic-movement-educators-therapists#!biz/id/664e663fcae27cd08803b835

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