Interior Alchemy by Natalie Kirkpatrick

When We Punish From Our Own Dysregulation

How power gets misused when the body is burning

We rarely call it punishment.
We call it "boundaries," "standards," "teaching a lesson," "protecting my peace."
But if you listen under the language, you can hear a nervous system on the edge—trying to manage heat it doesn't know how to hold.

Dysregulation doesn't make you a villain.
It makes you a body without enough room.
And when there isn't enough room inside, we push the discomfort outside—onto someone else—then name it strength.

Here's what that looks like in the wild:

• Withholding affection to make a point.
• Delaying responses to "show them" what it
  feels like.
• Silence as leverage.
• "I'm just busy" that's actually exile.
• Reframing avoidance as neutrality.
• Setting a consequence meant to soothe you,
  not restore the field.

We mistake control for safety. And control,
when we're spiked or collapsed, turns into blame with good branding.

What's Actually Happening in the Body

Dysregulation is a surge or drop: Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn.

• Fight looks like precision-weapon words, rules without rhythm.
• Flight looks like disappearing, spiritual bypass, inbox radio silence.
• Freeze looks like stonewalling, dead eyes, "I'm fine."
• Fawn looks like over-agreeing now, punishing later in subtle digs or distance.

Underneath all of them: I don't know how to hold what's moving through me without making you the container.

We punish to outsource containment.

The Moral Costume

Punishment feels righteous: "If I don't draw a line, I'm enabling." 

But that line often isn't a boundary—it's a boomerang. Thrown from activation, it circles back and hits the relationship we say we're protecting.

A true boundary is placed before the fire or after the flame has cooled.
Punishment is hurled during the blaze and called wisdom.

Test: If your "boundary" is designed to make
them feel what you felt, it's not a boundary. It's vengeance wearing a clean outfit.

Where This Shows Up (and How Ownership Changes It)

Parent-Child

• Punishment move: Silent treatment after a meltdown, withholding warmth until the apology arrives with the "right" tone.
• Ownership move: "I'm flooded. I'm going to take 10 minutes so I can come back and listen." Then you model nervous system repair as the family's language.

Leader-Team

• Punishment move: Excluding someone from a meeting after they missed a deadline; a "performance plan" that's actually exile.
• Ownership move: "The miss impacted delivery. We're going to reset the process, and I'm acknowledging I went quiet because I was frustrated. That won't help us ship. Here's the new cadence." Consequence exists; dignity stays intact.

Lovers/Dating

• Punishment move: Strategic delay, coyness that pretends to be standards, withholding sex or affection to manipulate.
• Ownership move: "I felt dropped. My body spun out. I want to keep seeing you, and I need steadier touchpoint if we continue." Clear need, no edge-play.

Friendship

• Punishment move: Escalating "jokes" that are really digs, last-minute cancellations to even the score.
• Ownership move: "I felt unconsidered when plans shifted. I want us, and I also want honest yes/no's so I don't start keeping tabs."

Regulation vs. Retribution

Retribution aims to even the ledger. Regulation 
aims to return coherence.

• Retribution asks: How do I make you feel what I felt?
• Regulation asks: How do I help my body find enough room to tell the truth without weaponizing it?

Ownership sounds like:

• "My chest is tight; I need 20 minutes before I respond."
• "I'm activated. I'm not clear yet. I'll return by this afternoon."
• "I'm disappointed and I want repair. Can we walk through what happened and what each of us needs going forward?"

Notice how ownership keeps the timeline and the door. No vanishing. No edge-play. Just adulthood.

Repair Without Self-Erasure

Taking ownership is not taking the blame for the whole field. It's stating your part so the field can stabilize.

Try this three-part shape:

1. State your state: "I got spiked when the plan changed."
2. Name your need: "I need clarity on timing and a heads-up next time."
3. Offer the bridge: "Here's how I suggest we reset."

If repair is refused or impossible, ownership also speaks a consequence that isn't punishment.

• "I'm stepping back from this project until we agree on a real timeline."
• "I'm not available for last-minute plans right now. If that changes, I'll let you know."
• "If messages go unanswered for a week, I assume we're not moving forward."

These are boundaries that protect your nervous system without cutting at theirs.

How to Catch Yourself Mid-Punish

Signals you're in the punishment reflex.

• You want them to feel it. (That verb matters.)
• You're crafting a delay, not a pause.
• Your silence has an audience in your head.
• Your body feels charged and righteous.

Interrupts that work in real life:

• Name it to yourself: "I'm seeking leverage because I'm scared and hurt."
• Time-bound pause: "I'll respond in 45 minutes." Put a timer on your phone.
• Body cue: Stand up. Cold water on wrists. One exhale longer than the inhale, five cycles.
• Micro-script to send: "I care about this and I'm too spun up to be fair. I'll circle back by 4 pm."

Ownership preserves relationship while you cool down.

The Cost of Punishment

Punishment corrodes trust. It trains people to scan for your weather instead of reaching for you.

It confuses people who love you—because your words say "boundary" while your body enacts revenge.

Worse: it keeps you outsourced.  If the only way you feel power is by making someone else carry what you can't, your center never learns to hold heat. You become dependent on the next minor betrayal to feel strong again.

You deserve stronger medicine than that.

What Real Strength Looks Like

• Containment: You can hold what moves through you without turning it into a weapon.
• Congruence: Your words match your body. No moral costume.
• Clarity: You can speak a limit without theater.
• Repair: You return, even when embarrassed. Especially then.
• Choice: You end what needs ending without salt. No punishment, just clean exit.

This is clean magnetism in practice—heat without hook. Presence without performance.

Fieldwork (practices you can actually use)

Pre-agreement with Yourself
Write one sentence you send when spiked. Save it to notes:  "I'm activated and I care. I'll respond by [time]." Use it. Keep your word.

Body Reset (90 seconds) 

• Press your feet into the floor for 10 seconds.
• Exhale longer than you inhale, five times.
• Put one palm on your sternum, one on your belly. Say (silently) "I'm here."

After-Action Truth
When you've returned:

• What happened in my body?
• What felt threatened (belonging, worth, safety)?
• What boundary or request actually serves forward?

Repair Script
"I punished you with distance. That's not how I want to handle heat. Here's what I needed and here's the boundary I'll use next time."

Boundary Library
Build three non-punitive lines you can re-use.

• Scheduling: "I need 24 hours notice for changes."
• Communication: "If we go quiet for more than 72 hours, let's reset explicitly."
• Capacity: "I'm not available for real-time processing; let's book a time."

If You Grew Up in Punishment Culture

Many of us learned love with conditions attached. Warmth was currency. Approval was the leash. Of course our reflex is to punish— it's the language our bodies were taught.

You're not broken for wanting leverage. You're early in a new language. The work is to give your nervous system a different map:  safety that doesn't require someone else to shrink.

Micro-cue:  step out of the courtroom and back into your chest.

The Reframe

You don't need to make anyone pay so your body can settle.
You need your body to settle so you can tell the truth that changes things.

Ownership is not apology theatre. It's choosing coherence over control—again and again—until your presence becomes the safe room you keep trying to build with consequences.

That's the kind of strength people trust.
That's the king of love that doesn't fracture
when heat shows up.
That's the kind of leadership that can hold a 
room honest.