Co-Regulation Is a Love Language (And “Let Me Know” Ain’t It)

Inspired by the post of one Mr. Nobody, writing from my phone.

Let me say this clearly from the beginning.

This is not about marriage.

This is not a relationship advice.

Please.

Nobody is sending coded messages. Nobody is subtweeting their spouse. Nobody is about to forward this with “See?” attached (I know y'all-so somebody might lol)

Yes, I know it’s Valentine’s Day weekend. I see the roses. I see the reservations. I see the matching red outfits and the soft lighting.

And I love that for y’all.

Meanwhile?

I’m in Atlanta.

At my daughter’s cheer competition.

Glitter floating through the air like it’s part of the ventilation system. Lashes being glued with surgical precision. Hair sprayed into architectural structures that could survive hurricane season. Music blasting. Schedules shifting. Mothers pacing. Fathers hauling garment bags like sequined security detail.

Cheer competition weekend — the absolute kryptonite to any romantic Valentine’s plans.

Nothing says “be mine” like over 1500 teams of screaming cheerleaders.

Cupid can circle back next week.

This weekend? We tumble.

But here’s what cheer competitions also have — pockets of waiting. Between performances. Between makeup touch-ups. Between lineup confirmations and snack runs.

And in those pockets?

I scroll.

So there I was, at Cheersport in Atlanta, decompressing between adrenaline spikes, scrolling — and something stopped me.

Saved me, actually.

A post about the love languages of co-regulation.

And I said, “Oh. This is it.”

Because while the timeline is full of romance this weekend, this wasn’t about romance.

It was about how we show up when someone we care about is overwhelmed.

And that applies to friendships, leadership, marriages, dating, parenting — all of it.

---The Problem With “Let Me Know”

We love this phrase:

“Let me know if you need anything.”

It sounds kind.

It sounds supportive.

It sounds mature.

But it quietly shifts the responsibility back to the person who is already struggling.

Now they have to:

Figure out what they need

Find the emotional energy to ask

Risk feeling like a burden

Most of us won’t.

We’ll say, “I’m good.”

We’ll say, “It’s fine.”

We’ll say, “I got it.”

Even when we absolutely do not got it.

Co-regulation is different.

It doesn’t wait to be invited.

It notices.

It moves.

It says, I see the shift in you. I’m stepping in.

---What It Actually Sounds Like

“I’m listening.”

“I’m on my way.”

“We’ll get through it.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Go rest. I’ve got this.”

“How are you really feeling?”

“I’m here.”

None of those outsource responsibility.

They lean in.

“You got this” encourages someone from a distance.

“I’ve got you” shares the weight.

That’s love in action.

---In Relationships & Marriages

Now let me say this carefully.

In relationships — and yes, in marriages

— co-regulation matters.

Because it’s not always the big gestures that build safety.

It’s the steady ones.

It’s noticing your partner is quieter than usual and saying,

“You don’t seem like yourself. Talk to me.”

It’s seeing they’re overwhelmed and saying,

“I’ll handle dinner tonight. Go breathe.”

It’s not keeping score of who’s tired.

It’s recognizing when the person you love is carrying too much.

Romance is beautiful.

But safety is sustaining.

You can survive without flowers.

You cannot thrive without feeling emotionally safe.

And emotional safety often sounds like:

“I’m here.”

---For the Men

There is nothing weak about steady presence.

There is nothing unmasculine about emotional steadiness.

“I’m here” is not soft.

It’s solid.

It takes strength to regulate yourself enough to help steady someone else.

The safest men are often not the loudest.

They’re the ones who notice.

The ones who don’t panic when emotions show up.

The ones who stay.

That is strength under control.

That is leadership.

That is love.

---For the Women

And for the women — especially the strong ones:

You are allowed to be regulated too.

Stop answering “I’m fine” when you’re exhausted.

Stop performing resilience like it’s a requirement.

Let someone hold you.

Let someone take the task.

Let someone sit in silence without you managing the whole emotional atmosphere.

Receiving support does not make you needy.

It makes you human.

---Cheer Taught Me Something

If you’ve ever watched a stunt, you know something important.

There’s a flyer — the one in the air.

But there are also bases.

A back spot.

And spotters.

The flyer doesn’t just jump and hope for the best.

The bases lift.

The back spot steadies.

The spotters position themselves intentionally in case something shifts.

Every role matters.

The flyer may be visible, but the strength underneath is what keeps everything standing (my kid is a base and backspot)

That’s co-regulation.

Sometimes you’re the flyer — up high, visible, carrying pressure.

Sometimes you’re the base — holding weight quietly.

Sometimes you’re the back spot — steadying from behind.

Sometimes you’re the spotter — positioned to catch before impact.

But nobody succeeds alone.

Not in cheer.

Not in friendship.

Not in marriage.

Not in leadership.

So here’s the question.

Are you a “let me know” person?

Or are you an “I’m on my way” person?

One sounds supportive.

The other feels safe.

And sitting in an arena in Atlanta, between tumbling passes and trophy ceremonies, I realized something.

God will slip a whole sermon into your scroll if you’re paying attention.

And I think I just found mine for this week.

Look at how the Lord works.