Nervous System Privilege: The Hidden Inequality in Therapy and Healing

When we talk about privilege, most people immediately think of the visible forms: race, class, education, able-bodiedness. A white person doesn't get followed in stores. A wealthy person doesn't worry about making rent. Someone born into an upper-middle-class family has access to opportunities - quality education, professional networks, financial safety nets - that others don't.

These privileges are well-documented and increasingly acknowledged. But there's another form of privilege that operates largely invisible: nervous system privilege.

The term "nervous system privilege," coined by Steph Jagger, describes the unfair advantage of having a relatively lower trauma burden and the calmer, more regulated nervous system that comes with it. Like racial privilege or class privilege, it's largely unearned - shaped by circumstances of birth, early attachment, and life events beyond our control. But unlike race or socioeconomic status, nervous system capacity can actually change through healing work.

How Other Privileges Shape Nervous System Capacity

Nervous system privilege doesn't exist in a vacuum. It's deeply entangled with every other form of privilege and oppression.

Racism creates chronic nervous system activation. When you navigate daily microaggressions, carry the weight of stereotypes, face systemic discrimination in housing and employment and healthcare, or live with the reality that your body is perceived as a threat - your nervous system never fully rests. Add intergenerational trauma - the biological legacy of slavery, genocide, colonization passed down through generations - and you have nervous systems shaped by centuries of survival.

Poverty is a chronic stressor that fundamentally shapes nervous system development. Children growing up in financial instability experience toxic stress that affects brain architecture. Adults living paycheck to paycheck exist in constant survival mode - the nervous system never gets the safety signal it needs to fully relax. Meanwhile, someone born into wealth has had a nervous system that developed in relative safety, with access to nutrition, healthcare, stable housing, and the luxury of rest.

When you hold multiple marginalized identities, the nervous system bears compound burdens. Each layer of marginalization adds to the chronic stress load, making nervous system privilege even more inaccessible. This is why nervous system privilege, while changeable, isn't simply a matter of individual effort.

What Nervous System Privilege Actually Looks Like

If you have nervous system privilege, you can walk into therapy already able to sit with uncomfortable emotions without immediately dissociating or going into fight-or-flight. You can tolerate the distress that comes with therapeutic work. You can hold boundaries while staying connected to others. Your window of tolerance for stress is wide enough that everyday challenges don't regularly push you into dysregulation.

If you don't have nervous system privilege, you might walk into a session already activated from just showing up. Sitting with difficult emotions might trigger dissociation, panic, or shutdown. "Doing the work" requires Herculean effort just to stay present. Your window of tolerance might be so narrow that what feels manageable to your therapist feels completely overwhelming to you.

The Therapy Industry Assumes Nervous System Privilege

Here's what I've observed as a therapist: most therapeutic approaches assume a baseline level of nervous system capacity that not everyone has. We talk about "insight-oriented therapy" as if everyone can access metacognition when activated. We encourage clients to "sit with discomfort" without acknowledging that for some people, discomfort immediately triggers trauma responses. We offer grounding techniques and wonder why they don't work - without recognizing these tools require nervous system regulation to implement in the first place.

Even in trauma-informed spaces, there's often an unspoken assumption that clients should be able to regulate themselves with the right techniques, that if they're "motivated" enough they'll do the work, that stability is simply a matter of effort.

When "Resistant" Really Means "Under-Resourced"

I think often about how we label clients. Who gets called "motivated" versus "resistant"? In my experience, the difference often isn't about willingness - it's about nervous system capacity. The client who can quickly identify feelings and implement coping strategies often has nervous system privilege. The client who dissociates when asked about emotions or struggles to maintain boundaries might be working just as hard, but from a much more dysregulated baseline.

This labeling has real consequences. Clients who appear "resistant" might be discharged from therapy or referred to endless "stabilization" programs. Meanwhile, the underlying issue - nervous system dysregulation born from developmental trauma, chronic stress, or ongoing marginalization - goes unaddressed or gets framed as personal failing.

Neurodivergence and the Nervous System

As a neurodivergent person, I spent my childhood making mistakes constantly - not because I was careless, but because I was slow to catch onto social expectations and unspoken rules. I didn't always consciously know I was being shamed for these mistakes, but my body knew. My nervous system learned that mistakes weren't safe, that getting things "wrong" meant disconnection, that I had to work exponentially harder than others just to stay afloat.

Even now, decades into healing, I can feel how deeply that patterning runs. Neurodivergent nervous systems often exist in chronic activation simply from navigating a neurotypical world. Sensory overwhelm, social confusion, and constant masking all tax the nervous system in ways neurotypical people don't experience.

The Hope: Neuroplasticity Is Real

Here's the crucial piece: nervous system privilege can be built. Unlike race or class, nervous system regulation is neuroplastic. New neural pathways can be laid down through healing work. Trauma can be processed. In Internal Family Systems terms, parts can unburden and protective systems can relax when there's enough safety. Through therapy, somatic practices, safe relationships, and sometimes medication, genuine transformation is possible.

When we provide the conditions for healing - safety, attunement, co-regulation - the system can develop new patterns. A window of tolerance that was once razor-thin can gradually expand. I see this in my clients and have experienced it in my own life.

But Healing Requires Resources

And here's where we run into another layer of inequity: building nervous system capacity requires resources not everyone can access. Quality trauma therapy is expensive, and many specialists don't take insurance. Somatic therapies, EMDR, neurofeedback - these modalities that profoundly impact nervous system regulation are often out of reach without significant financial resources. Class privilege often determines who can access the healing work needed to build nervous system privilege.

Beyond money, healing requires time - time to find the right therapist, build trust, slowly process trauma. For people working multiple jobs or navigating unstable housing, that time doesn't exist. And healing requires safety. You can't regulate a nervous system still under active threat. If someone is still experiencing racism, discrimination, or living in survival mode, their nervous system is doing exactly what it should - remaining activated for protection.

What This Means for Therapists and Clients

If you're a therapist, consider: Are we acknowledging our own nervous system privilege? Most of us have enough regulation to complete graduate school and sit with clients' distress without becoming overwhelmed - that's privilege, often connected to other privileges we hold. Are we pathologizing what's actually a reasonable nervous system response? When a client dissociates or shuts down, is that "resistance" or protection? Are we creating space for clients who need more support - longer sessions, more frequent contact, slower pacing?

If you're in therapy struggling with what feels like an inability to "do the work": Your nervous system isn't broken. It's responding exactly as it was trained to respond based on your experiences, including systemic oppression. You're not resistant - you're working with the capacity your system currently has, and that capacity can grow with the right support. You deserve a therapist who understands nervous system work and doesn't label you as "not ready" without addressing the underlying nervous system piece.

Moving Forward

Understanding nervous system privilege invites awareness and systemic change. For those with nervous system privilege, it means recognizing the invisible advantages you carry and extending grace to those working from a different baseline. It also means recognizing how that privilege may connect to other privileges you hold.

For those without it, it means knowing your struggles aren't personal inadequacy. Your nervous system is responding to what it's experienced, including systemic oppression. With support, resources, and time, your system can learn new patterns.

For all of us, it means advocating for a mental health system that truly understands trauma, doesn't gatekeep healing behind arbitrary markers of "readiness," and makes nervous system-informed care accessible regardless of race, class, or other forms of privilege.

Because everyone deserves the chance to heal. Everyone deserves a nervous system that feels safe in the world. Until we make that reality for all people - not just the privileged few - we have work to do.

CONTACT ME