When Parenting Feels Like White-Knuckling: Jenna Johnson, LCSW on the “Whoosh,” Self-Regulation, and Why You’re Not a Bad Mom
Interview by Heather Anderson
Jenna Johnson is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker who supports moms who feel like they’re holding it together on the outside, but running on fumes underneath. Her work blends practical tools with deep nervous-system support, including modalities like traditional talk therapy and traditional talk therapy and brainspotting. She sees clients in Bend, Oregon and also works with families virtually throughout Oregon and California. (Jenna Johnson, LCSW)
A lot of moms are functioning… but doing it with clenched teeth. When a mom sits down with you and says, “I’m fine, I’m just exhausted,” what are you listening for underneath that?
Most moms are white-knuckling it at least part of the time.
When a mom sits down and says, “I’m fine,” I’m listening for all the parts that are there at once: the clenched teeth, the exhaustion, and also that knee-jerk reflex to minimize it. The “It’s fine. I’m good. We’re good.”
In therapy, we make space for all of those parts. Not in a “let’s fix you” way, but in a “let’s actually see what’s happening” way. Parenting has so many layers, and I’m not interested in helping moms shove the hard parts out of the way. I want us to get curious about them, understand them, and make room for the reality of what they’re carrying.
A lot of moms have tons of compassion for everyone around them, except themselves. So we start with self-awareness and self-compassion, because I want moms to walk away from our work together with a lifelong set of skills. Skills they can use no matter what season they’re in, or what new curveball parenting throws at them.
And I’ll say this plainly because it’s the heart of it: you’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re human. When we understand the context of the world we’re parenting in, and what it means to be a woman balancing work, home, mental load, relationships, and everything else, moms usually soften toward themselves. That self-compassion is deeply healing, and most of us were never taught to make time or space for it.
You talk about helping moms move out of those familiar overwhelm patterns and into a calm that actually lasts. What patterns do you see most often, and what starts to change when things begin to feel different?
A pattern I see constantly is self-blame.
Moms come in downplaying the struggle, thinking, “I shouldn’t feel this way,” or “Everyone else has it figured out,” or “Why can’t I handle this?” They assume everyone else is doing better than they are, and it creates this constant internal pressure.
The first shift is simply seeing the pattern and naming it out loud. I often describe it like this: we take that self-judgment out, almost like we’re holding it in our hand, and we look at it together. “Okay. Here it is. Let’s understand it. Where did this come from? Is it old? Is it new? When did it first show up in your mind and your body?”
When moms can approach those patterns with curiosity instead of shame, they start to feel empowered to do something different.
And the biggest “different” thing that creates lasting calm is slowing down. Slowing down allows us to turn our focus from outward (our kids or partners) to inward. Shifting our attention inward gives us a chance to Respond instead of React.
Most of us know the strategies. We know the “right phrases” we’ve learned from parenting experts. But if your body and brain are overwhelmed, you cannot access those tools in real time. Your system gets hijacked. Stress hormones flood the body. You snap at your kids, you yell at your partner, you feel awful later, and then the shame spiral shows up at night.
When we slow down enough to get back into our thinking brain, everything changes. You can respond thoughtfully, with love and firmness, instead of reacting from pure overload.
If you pictured the mom you’re best at helping, who is she? What does her day look like, and what’s the thing she hasn’t quite put words to yet?
She’s over functioning.
She’s racing around. She feels like she’s drowning in the day-to-day chaos. She’s doing all the things she’s been told to do. She’s taken the webinar, read the article, saved the Instagram posts. She knows what she’s “supposed” to do.
And then she gets lost in a moment. She gets overwhelmed. She snaps. And later, that voice creeps in: “I’m not good enough.” “Everyone else has it figured out.” “Why can’t I do this?” and perhaps hardest of all, “I’m a bad mom.”
So many of these moms feel like they’ve disappeared into the role. Like all they are is “mom.” And then if they’re struggling, they interpret it as, “I’m failing at the only thing that I am.”
The thing she often hasn’t put words to yet is this: she’s trying to give her children something she never received.
A lot of moms are trying to be loving and firm, steady and safe, emotionally present and boundaried, but it wasn’t modeled for them. So it can feel like building the plane while flying it. You don’t have the schematics. You don’t have the tools. But you’re expected to keep it in the air, and crashing is not an option. Thus the “white knuckling it” experience. It’s exhausting.
My role is to come alongside her and help her find what’s already there, and sometimes also fill in what was missing. Sometimes we truly are missing practical skills. How do you set a boundary and follow through? How do you talk to your kid in a way that feels aligned with your values? But we cannot get to any of that if your nervous system is constantly in survival mode.
“Whatever shows up in the room is welcome, because it’s there for a reason.”
You use the word “whoosh” to describe what happens in the body when a parent gets triggered. What is that “whoosh,” and why does it take over so fast?
The "whoosh" is that flood of anger or frustration that crashes over your body and mind before you even have a second to realize it. Therapist Terry Real coined the term, so credit due there, but I use it often because so many women resonate with that wave that hijacks their whole system.
Your kid spills juice on the couch. You’re late again. You realize someone forgot their lunchbox. The dog poops on the carpet. In an instant, your heart rate spikes, your muscles tighten, your breath gets shallow, and you can feel yourself getting bigger. Almost like your body is bracing for impact.
Most of us were never taught to recognize that moment in real time. And that’s the problem. That whoosh is not where we do our best thinking or our best parenting. We’re not grounded. It can feel like an out-of-body experience.
Why does it happen so fast? Because of the brain’s threat-scanning system. Your amygdala is always scanning for threat. It’s trying to keep you alive.
Where we get stuck is when something like “being late to school” gets interpreted as a major threat.
Underneath so many parenting triggers is a core fear: “I’m a bad mom.” “I’m a shit parent.” “I am losing control.”
My kid’s late for school, so I’m a shit parent. My kid’s hair is messy on picture day, so I’m a shit parent. My kid is melting down in public, so everyone thinks I’m a shit parent.
When you understand that your body is trying to eliminate a perceived threat, you can soften toward it instead of attacking yourself for it. Then you can slow it down and ask: “Is this actually a threat?” “Do I even care what the principal thinks?” “Is this worth losing my hair over over?”
That shift is a game-changer. Because once you soothe the fear under the trigger, you stop micromanaging your kid, you step out of power struggles, and you redirect your energy into self-compassion, self-soothing, and regulation. From there, you can co-regulate your child and move forward in a way that actually works.
Also sometimes the answer is simply: “My kid has messy hair on picture day.” And we survive. And it’s okay. Ask me about my daughter’s preschool photos- disaster!!
In that split second when a mom is about to snap, shut down, or spiral, what’s a first step you teach that works in real life?
We usually pick one “first step” per mom, because it has to be doable.
For me personally, I place my palm on my collarbone, right on my chest, and I take a deep breath in. It’s grounding. The pressure helps, as does turning my attention inward toward my thoughts and feelings. The breath gets oxygen to my brain so it can start working again.
It sounds almost too small. Like a drop in a huge bucket. And when moms hear “take a deep breath,” it can feel insulting, like, “Please. I’m drowning. Don’t tell me to breathe.”
But the difference is actually doing it in the moment, intentionally, as a way to manage the whoosh. When you can slow down enough to get oxygen into your brain and exhale slowly, you create just enough space to respond instead of react.
That space changes everything.
What are some early signs a mom’s nervous system is overloaded, even if she’s high-functioning and “holding it together” on the outside?
Racing thoughts. Elevated heart rate. Muscle tension. Your body is paying the price in some way.
And one big one: what I call “threat monitoring.”
It’s when you’re in a room scanning constantly. “Are people looking at me?” “Does my hair look weird?” “Is anyone staring at my kid?” “Did anyone hear that?” “Oh no, my kid is acting up.” That hypervigilant scanning is a huge indicator your nervous system is running hot.
Your body is on alert, even if you’re smiling and functioning.
You describe your style as curious, non-judgmental, and gently honest. What does that feel like in the room?
It feels respectful. It feels cozy. I want my clients to kick off their shoes while I make them a cup of tea (or they bring their own for virtual).
We spend time getting to know each other so there is genuine trust and connection. Every story, memory or feeling is welcome. We get curious about whatever shows up- but if a client ever wants to move on from a topic, or things feel too scary to explore right now- we can do that too.
Therapy should feel client led, but always respectful. Whatever shows up in the room is welcome, because it’s there for a reason.
And therapy isn’t one-note. Sometimes it’s tears and deep grief. Sometimes it’s laughter and lightness. Sometimes it’s “here’s what feels better, let’s make more of that.” We go at the client’s pace.
A lot of moms worry about choosing the “wrong” therapist. What actually makes therapy feel like a good fit, and what should a mom trust her gut about?
I always tell people: finding a therapist is like finding a great pair of shoes. It just has to fit!.
That’s why I encourage moms to take the free consult call and listen to their gut. Do you want to keep talking? Do you feel curious? Do you want to share? Or do you feel closed off and tense? I’m not afraid of using an f-bomb here or there- is that your style?
I also check in around the second or third session and ask, “Is this what you hoped it would be?” If it’s not, we talk about it. I truly believe I’m not the therapist for everyone, but there is a therapist for everyone. I will happily help someone find the right fit, even if that fit isn’t me.
And a really common example of “this isn’t the right lane” is when it becomes clear that what someone really needs is couples therapy. Sometimes a mom isn’t struggling outside of the context of her partnered relationship, and individual therapy isn’t the thing that will move the needle. In those cases, we pivot and I help her find a strong couples therapist and navigate the logistics and hesitation that often comes with that.
You’ve trained parents, foster families, teachers, and entire school districts. What has that work taught you about what families really need beyond behavior charts and advice?
It always comes back to regulation.
Whether I’m working with a mom, a foster family, a teacher, or a superintendent, the system functions better when the individuals in the system can slow down and self-soothe before trying to problem-solve.
When teachers learn to regulate themselves, it can change a whole classroom. When school leadership models that same slowing down and intentionality, it can shift an entire school culture.
And at home, when a mom can tune in to herself and meet her own needs, even something simple like “I need a snack,” or “I need support,” or “I’m actually really sad,” it can change the whole energy of a family. Moms can move into this new way of being: loving and firm… and sometimes that firmness means holding boundaries around their own needs first and foremost.
And when that happens, a lot of the charts and other interventions become less necessary, because the foundation is steadier.
For a mom who’s new to therapy, or who tried it before and didn’t feel helped, what does working with you actually feel like in the early sessions?
Cozy. Safe. Thoughtful.
Whether someone is brand new or they’ve done therapy before, I’m always paying attention to capacity. Where can we start, and how can I meet you there?
Some people are ready to dive into deeper modalities quickly. Other people need time to trust that they can share the thing they’ve been holding for years and I’m not going to judge them, or act shocked, or make them feel “crazy.” A big part of my job is creating a space where the full truth can exist without shame.
And it’s not all heavy. Therapy can be deep and tearful, yes. It can also be light and funny and relieving. We make space for both, and we move at your pace.
You sometimes use longer sessions and brainspotting. What is brainspotting, and what kinds of things tend to benefit from that deeper, more spacious approach?
Brainspotting is kind of a weird therapy! I say that affectionately.
It’s unique.
It goes beyond traditional talk therapy. The basic concept is that where we look affects how we feel. Different eye positions can activate different feelings connected to memories, emotions, trauma, phobias, and stuck body sensations.
The best analogy is that moment when you catch yourself staring off into space, lost in thought. Usually we snap back and re-engage. In brainspotting, we actually hold that “zoning out” moment on purpose and let the brain and body process what’s already there.
It’s especially helpful for things moms don’t want to talk about repeatedly. It can be helpful when you can’t quite put words to something, like when your body feels like it remembers something even if your mind doesn’t have a clean narrative.
It’s also great for really specific issues: intrusive thoughts, phobias, public speaking anxiety, driving anxiety. It can be deep work in a shorter period of time, which can also help people who can’t come weekly and need a more spacious, less frequent schedule. It’s not uncommon for me to see someone once per month for 2+ hrs instead of weekly therapy- which makes it a flexible option for busy Moms.
If a mom reading this wants something tangible to try this week, what’s one small regulation shift you’d invite her to experiment with?
Oh Yes! I have a short acronym I want to share. I invite Mamas to practice GELS- Notice your body at the very beginning of irritation. G- go Inward. E- Explore with curiosity. L- Listen to what you need. S- Self soothe or soften…take a deep breath, drop your shoulders, step outside for a moment, say to yourself the encouraging thing you would say to your bestie in a moment of stress.
This little practice will help give you valuable information.
Before the explosion. Before the snap. Before the power struggle.
Get curious about your tells. Where do you hold tension? How do you hold your shoulders? What happens to your breath? What happens to your voice?
Then see if you can soften one thing. Soften your shoulders. Soften your voice. Soften your jaw.
Again, it can feel small. But it’s the first step in pulling your own energy back to yourself, and shifting the dynamic in the room.
You’re building a workshop centered on helping parents regulate themselves in the moment. What made you realize this was the missing piece for so many families, and what do you hope it changes long-term?
This workshop came from my own crash landing into parenting.
For years, as a therapist and in-home behavior consultant, I had all the tools. Charts. Reinforcement systems. Strategies. I was going to be the greatest at being a Mom! Ha! Life had a different lesson for me.
I became a parent and realized: My frustrated reactions came flying out before I had a chance to use any tools. I did not have skills for my own self-regulation when I was sleep-deprived, starving, and postpartum. I had all the interventions, but I couldn’t access them when my body was overwhelmed.
That’s the whole point. You can’t get to the strategies if you can’t slow down enough to respond thoughtfully. Self-regulation and co-regulation are the baseline. They are the foundation most of us are missing, and that missing foundation becomes the block to using all the “cool tips” we save online.
What I hope changes long-term is that moms stop feeling like failures for not being able to implement strategies while in survival mode. I want them to feel steadier in their bodies. More resourced. More capable. And I want home to feel calmer, not because life is perfect, but because the nervous system is supported.
You’ve shared that your own “why” is being present for your kids while still supporting your family. How do you personally notice when you’re getting stretched too thin, and what helps you recalibrate?
It happens all the time.
There isn’t some plateau where everything becomes easy. Recognizing you’re stretched and recalibrating is an ongoing practice.
For me, I notice my patience gets thin. My tone gets snippier. I move faster and more frantically. Sometimes I get tearful out of nowhere.
Those are my red flags. My body saying, “Hey, something’s out of balance.”
That’s when I slow down, put my hand on my collarbone, breathe, and check in: What do I feel? What do I need? How can I pivot?
And honestly, sometimes it’s practical. It might mean having my kids do more chores. Taking shortcuts. Tossing clutter into a laundry basket and hiding it for a day. Eating breakfast. Drinking the glass of water I didn’t drink. Sometimes I’m not “mad,” I’m dehydrated.
It’s not glamorous. It’s real.
If a mom finishes this and thinks, “I might need support, and this feels like it could be a fit,” what’s the easiest next step to reach out, and what would you want her to know before she does?
Just reach out.
You don’t have to know what to ask. That consultation call to a new therapist can be intimidating- I get it! I will guide you. I will explain the process, share my style and answer frequently asked questions.
I offer a free 15-minute consultation call, and I truly talk to everyone who reaches out. We’ll spend that time hearing what you’re looking for and being honest about whether we’re a good fit, or whether I think someone else would serve you better. (Jenna Johnson, LCSW)
If you’re feeling nervous, that totally makes sense. Your only job is to take the first step. I will help take it from there and make it as seamless as possible for you.
Prefer to text? You can send a secure text message to 530-464-5557 (and yes, double-check your email when you fill out forms, because typos happen to everyone).
You can also find Jenna Johnson on The M List, The Mamahood’s searchable database of mom-recommended resources, or connect and collaborate with Jenna Johnson inside The Club membership for women Founders.