Category: Opportunity Journal

Embracing the Healing Spiral: You Are Not Behind

Hi love,

I want to talk to you about something that comes up often in our sessions—especially this time of year.

It’s that moment when you say, “I thought I was past this.” “I should be further along.” “I feel like I’m back where I started.”

And I hear you. I’ve felt that too.

But here’s what I want you to know: You are not back at the beginning. You are spiraling deeper. And the spiral is sacred.

🌿 You’re Not Behind—You’re Becoming

We’ve been taught to measure healing in straight lines. Forward motion. Clear milestones. No turning back.

But healing doesn’t work like that. It spirals. It circles. It returns.

And every time you revisit something— an old wound, a forgotten truth, a tender part of yourself— you’re not regressing. You’re remembering.

You’re meeting that part of you with new eyes. With more softness. With more capacity to stay.

🦋 Softness Is Strength

I know it’s tempting to push through. To override the discomfort. To keep going.

But what if softness is the way forward?

What if the spiral is not a detour— but the path itself?

This season, I want to invite you to trust the spiral. To honor the return. To let yourself move slowly, and still know you’re growing.

🔄 Let’s Sit With This Together

If you’re feeling tender right now, if something old is resurfacing— you’re not alone.

Here are a few questions we can hold together:

  • What truth is asking to be heard again?
  • What part of me feels familiar—but deeper now?
  • What would it feel like to honor the spiral, not resist it?

Let these questions be companions. Let them guide you inward. Let them remind you: You are allowed to return. You are allowed to move slowly. You are allowed to grow in circles.

🕊️ You Are Brave

Some of the most powerful healing I’ve witnessed has come from women who stopped trying to move forward— and started listening inward.

This November, may you spiral with grace. May you return with tenderness. May you trust that your path, however winding, is holy.

You are not behind. You are in process. And the spiral is sacred.

With love,

Erika

🕊️ The Return: A November Reflection

There’s a moment in every healing journey when the path stops moving forward. Not because you’ve failed. Not because you’re stuck. But because something inside you is asking to be remembered.

This is the season for returning.

Not to old habits or outdated roles— but to the parts of you that got left behind. The quiet truths. The soft instincts. The version of you that didn’t need to perform to belong.

In my coaching practice, I see this moment often. Women arrive feeling behind. Disconnected. Ashamed of their slowness. They’ve been taught that growth means momentum. That healing should be linear. That softness is something to earn.

But healing doesn’t always blaze ahead. Sometimes it spirals. Sometimes it pauses. Sometimes it turns back for the part of you that was never given space to speak.

This week, I’m honoring the spiral. I’m choosing to return. To the body. To the breath. To the truths I’ve overridden in the name of productivity.

And I want to offer you this:

🕊️ You are allowed to return to yourself. Not once. Not perfectly. But again and again.

You are allowed to move slowly. To feel deeply. To grow inward.

If you’re craving a space where softness is honored, where your truth is welcomed without urgency— know that you’re not alone. This space is here for you. This season can hold you.

With tenderness,

Erika

The Gentle Descent into November: A Time for Rest

November always feels like a soft landing.

The air shifts. The trees let go. And something in me exhales—quietly, without ceremony. It’s not the end of the year, not yet. But it’s the beginning of the descent. A gentle turning inward.

Each November, I seem to arrive at the same threshold. Not because something new has happened— but because something old is ready to be seen differently.

I used to resist this part. I thought slowing down meant losing momentum. That rest was something you earned after the work was done. But now I know: rest is part of the rhythm. Integration is part of the work.

My growth didn’t happen in a single season. It unfolded over years—through overwhelm, through stillness, through the quiet work of returning to myself.

There were moments I didn’t know what I was carrying. Stories I inherited without realizing. Beliefs that shaped me before I ever had the chance to choose.

And slowly, gently, I began to choose again.

Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quietly. In the way I speak to myself. In the way I hold space for others. In the way I let softness lead.

I lit a candle before writing this. Not for ambiance, but for anchoring. I needed something small and steady to remind me that light doesn’t have to be loud. That warmth can be quiet. That I am allowed to grow slowly.

My body doesn’t want to sprint toward December. It wants to nest, to listen, to soften. The breath slows. The shoulders drop. The ache behind the eyes says, “You’ve done enough.”

November reminds me of that.

It reminds me that healing isn’t a finish line. It’s a spiral. A return. A remembering.

It reminds me that tenderness is not weakness. That truth often arrives in whispers.

It reminds me that I can choose again.

And still—there’s pressure. To wrap up the year. To prove something. To finish strong.

But what if finishing strong looked like finishing soft? What if the most radical thing we could do this month was to listen inward and trust what we hear?

This is the kind of space I hold for the women I work with. Not fixing. Not rushing. Just witnessing. Just returning.

If you’re feeling tender this month—if you’re tired, reflective, or unsure—you’re not doing it wrong. You’re in the rhythm. You’re in the remembering.

Let it be quiet. Let it be true.

You are allowed to return to yourself again and again.

December will bring its own kind of clarity. But November is for listening.

Embracing Authenticity: The Mask We Wear

🖤

A month-long reflection series for women ready to stop performing and start revealing.

There’s a version of you that knows how to perform. She knows how to be what’s expected. She knows how to keep the peace, hold the weight, and wear the mask.

But what happens when the mask starts to slip? When the role no longer fits? When the life you built around who you were… doesn’t quite hold who you’re becoming?

This October, I’m offering a series of writings called The Mask We Wear through my Overwhelm to Opportunity Coaching practice. It’s not a course. It’s not a challenge. It’s a quiet invitation to reflect, unravel, and begin again.

🌱 The Becoming

This is not the tidy part. This is the part where you feel raw, spacious, and slightly undone. Not because you’re broken—because you’re no longer pretending.

The Becoming is not a performance. It’s not a brand-new mask. It’s the quiet, trembling truth of who you are when no one is watching.

It’s the moment you realize you don’t need to be liked to be real. You don’t need to be understood to be whole. You don’t need to be strong to be worthy.

This is the part where your nervous system starts to recalibrate. Where your body begins to trust that it doesn’t have to brace for impact. Where your breath deepens—not because everything is fixed, but because you’ve stopped abandoning yourself.

The Becoming is not a finish line. It’s a threshold. And you don’t cross it by force—you cross it by surrender.

It’s the quiet knowing that you are allowed to take up space. That your softness is not a liability. That your truth is not too much.

If you’re here, you already feel it. The ache. The pull. The possibility.

You’re not broken. You’re becoming. And that’s the most powerful thing you can do.

This offering is for all who identify as women—including trans women. If you’re a trans man or nonbinary and feel this work speaks to you, I welcome a conversation. I trust you to know if this space is meant for you.

I don’t usually offer this kind of work on public platforms. But I know there are women quietly unraveling, quietly remembering, quietly becoming. And I wanted to offer something just for you.

🖤 The full series is available now—no sign-up, no funnel, no performance. Just words. Just truth. Just you.

🦋 The Unraveling and the Reveal

It doesn’t always start with a dramatic moment. Sometimes, it begins with a quiet no. A conversation you no longer pretend to enjoy. A role you stop performing in your family. A version of yourself you no longer feel obligated to protect.

This is the unraveling.

It’s not chaos. It’s clarity. It’s the slow shedding of identities that no longer fit. The peeling back of stories you told to stay safe. The realization that the life you built around who you were… doesn’t quite hold who you’re becoming.

And that’s not failure. That’s growth.

🌱 The Reveal

When the unraveling begins, something else happens too: You start to remember yourself.

Not the curated version. Not the one who kept the peace, held the weight, or smiled through the ache. But the one who had dreams before the expectations. The one who felt deeply, even when it was inconvenient. The one who wanted more than just to be liked—she wanted to be known.

This is the reveal. It’s tender. It’s terrifying. It’s true.

💬 What Coaching Offers Here

In this moment—between unraveling and revealing—is where coaching becomes sacred.

Not to fix you. Not to push you into a new chapter. But to hold space for the version of you that’s emerging. To ask the questions that help you hear your own voice again. To remind you that you don’t have to perform to belong.

You just have to show up as you.

If you’re in the middle of the unraveling, I want you to know: You’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re becoming.

And that’s the most powerful thing you can do.

🦋

✨ Ready to explore what’s next?

If this resonates, I’d love to meet you in a Discovery Call. We’ll talk about where you are, what’s shifting, and how coaching can support your next chapter.

👉 Book your Discovery Call here

When the Role No Longer Fits

What happens when the identity you’ve built starts to feel too small?

There comes a moment—quiet, unsettling, sacred—when the role you’ve been performing no longer feels like home.

Maybe it’s the achiever who’s exhausted from chasing gold stars. The caretaker who’s forgotten how to care for herself. The strong one who’s tired of holding it all together. The good girl who’s ready to stop being so good.

These roles once served a purpose. They helped you belong, succeed, survive. But now, they feel tight. Constricting. Like clothes you’ve outgrown but keep wearing because they’re familiar.

And here’s the truth: You are allowed to outgrow the version of you that others still expect.

Letting go of a role doesn’t mean you’ve failed it. It means you’re evolving. It means you’re listening to the quiet voice inside that says, “There’s more to me than this.”

But shedding a role is tender work. It asks you to sit in the in-between—between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming. It asks you to grieve, to question, to reclaim.

That’s why I created The Mask We Wear Guide—a gentle reflection tool to help you explore the roles you’ve been carrying and begin the journey back to your authentic self.

Inside, you’ll find:

  • Journal prompts to support your inner inquiry
  • A role inventory worksheet to name what no longer fits
  • A closing affirmation to anchor your truth

This guide isn’t about fixing you. It’s about freeing you.

Because beneath every role is a woman who deserves to be seen—not for how well she performs, but for who she truly is.

🦋Download The Mask We Wear Guide

Erika Patterson Coaching

hello@erikapattersoncoaching.com

© 2025 Erika Patterson Coaching

The Masks We Wear: Understanding Identity

The Season of Disguise

October is the month of masks—plastic fangs, glittered eye patches, and cloaks that let us play pretend. But long after Halloween ends, many of us continue wearing masks that no one can see. These aren’t costumes for parties—they’re the personas we adopt to survive, succeed, or simply belong.

We wear them at work, in relationships, online. We smile when we’re hurting. We nod when we disagree. We perform, even when we crave rest. And most of the time, we don’t even realize we’re doing it.

The Invisible Masks We Wear

Some masks are easy to spot: the “perfect parent,” the “always-on professional,” the “chill friend” who never gets upset. Others are more subtle: the silence we keep to avoid conflict, the enthusiasm we fake to be liked, the self we shrink to make others comfortable.

These masks aren’t inherently bad. In fact, they often serve a purpose:

  • 🛡️ Protection: We hide vulnerability to avoid judgment or rejection.
  • 🎭 Performance: We play roles to meet expectations or gain approval.
  • 🧩 Adaptation: We shift our identity to fit into different environments.

But over time, these masks can become so fused to our faces that we forget what’s underneath.

Why We Hide

We learn early that authenticity can be risky. Maybe we were told we were “too much” or “too sensitive.” Maybe we were praised for being agreeable, quiet, or helpful—and internalized that as our value.

So we shape-shift. We become what others need us to be. And in doing so, we sometimes lose sight of who we really are.

The Cost of Constant Camouflage

Wearing a mask too long can lead to:

  • 😞 Emotional exhaustion
  • 😶 Disconnection from self
  • 😔 Difficulty forming deep relationships
  • 😤 Resentment or burnout

It’s not just about pretending—it’s about the slow erosion of authenticity.

The First Step: Awareness

Before we can take off the mask, we have to notice it. Ask yourself:

  • When do I feel most like myself?
  • When do I feel like I’m performing?
  • What am I afraid will happen if I show up unfiltered?

These questions aren’t easy—but they’re essential.

Invitation: A Gentle Unmasking

This week, try this:

Journal Prompt: “What mask do I wear most often—and why?” Write freely. No edits. No judgment. Just honesty.

You might be surprised by what surfaces.

Closing Thought

Masks aren’t always bad. Sometimes they help us survive. But we deserve more than survival—we deserve connection, truth, and the freedom to be fully seen. This October, let’s begin the slow, brave work of unmasking.

National Truth and Reconciliation Day: Honoring Survivors

September 30th marks National Truth and Reconciliation Day, a day of reflection, remembrance, and acknowledgement. It is a day to recognize the history and ongoing impacts of residential schools in Canada, to honour the survivors, and to commit ourselves to the work of truth, healing, and reconciliation.

At Overwhelm to Opportunity, we often speak about slowing down, listening, and stepping into our lives with intention. Today, that same invitation extends to how we engage with the collective history of our country. True reconciliation begins with awareness, humility, and action—qualities we cultivate not just in our personal lives, but in the way we show up for one another and for our communities.

Listening and Learning
Reconciliation is an ongoing journey. It asks us to listen without defense, to learn from the stories of survivors, and to hold space for experiences that may be difficult to hear. It asks us to confront uncomfortable truths, just as we confront the parts of our lives that feel messy or overwhelming.

Taking Thoughtful Action
Awareness is not enough. Action, even small, thoughtful action, carries the power to create change. Whether it’s supporting Indigenous-led initiatives, educating ourselves, or speaking up against injustice, each step matters. In coaching, we call this turning overwhelm into opportunity—transforming awareness into meaningful, intentional steps forward.

A Gentle Invitation
On this day, I invite you to pause, reflect, and consider how you can honour this truth in your own life. Whether through personal reflection, education, or community support, every effort toward understanding and reconciliation matters.

At Overwhelm to Opportunity, we believe in the power of small, intentional actions to create meaningful change—both within ourselves and in the world around us. May this day remind us that listening, learning, and acting with compassion is always a path forward.

A Love Letter to Women: Reconnecting with Yourself

To the woman who has spent so long giving, bending, and showing up for everyone else —

this is a love letter to you.

I see you.

I see the weight you carry, the quiet sacrifices you make, and the parts of yourself you tuck away to keep the peace.

You may feel like you’ve forgotten who you are beneath all the roles and responsibilities.

But here’s the truth:

You have never been lost.

You have just been hiding, waiting for a safe place to remember yourself.

It’s okay to feel tired.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.

It’s okay to want something different.

You deserve time to reconnect with your own heart, your own voice, your own dreams.

This is your invitation to come home — slowly, gently, without judgment.

How to Begin Remembering Yourself

  • Pause for a moment each day: Even five minutes of quiet can help you tune back in.
  • Write a letter to yourself: Speak with kindness and curiosity about who you are now, not who you were expected to be.
  • Let go of shoulds: What expectations can you release today to give yourself breathing room?
  • Celebrate small victories: Every time you honor your needs, you reclaim a piece of yourself.

You Are Enough

You are more than the roles you play or the labor you perform.

You are a whole, worthy, beautiful person — exactly as you are.

If you want gentle support in this process, remember my Opportunity Library is here for you — full of free resources to help you move from overwhelm to opportunity.

👉 Visit the Opportunity Library here

The Myth of Balance & the Truth of Alignment

Balance is one of those words we hear all the time. We’re told to “find balance” between work and life, giving and receiving, doing and being. But what if balance isn’t the whole story?

For many women, chasing balance feels exhausting — like juggling plates that never quite settle. The truth is, balance often assumes equal weight on both sides, and that’s not always possible or even desirable.

Instead, I invite you to consider alignment.

Alignment means tuning into what truly matters to you — your values, your priorities, your energy — and organizing your life around that. It’s less about perfect equilibrium and more about flow and purpose.

When you’re aligned, the tension eases. You’re not trying to hold everything equally; you’re choosing what to give your energy to and what to let go.

This kind of alignment requires self-awareness and permission to say no — to the things that don’t fit your current truth.

So rather than striving for a mythical balance, let yourself explore what alignment looks like for you.

Reflective Questions to Consider:

  • What parts of my life feel out of sync with who I am today?
  • Where am I trying to balance things equally when maybe I don’t need to?
  • What would happen if I focused on alignment instead of balance?
  • What small step can I take today to live more aligned with my truth?

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re ready to explore alignment over balance, I invite you to visit my Opportunity Library — a growing collection of free resources designed to support your journey from overwhelm to opportunity.

Inside the library, you’ll find reflection guides, journal prompts, and tools to help you reconnect with your truth and create a life that feels aligned and meaningful.

Take your time, explore what calls to you, and know that each small step is part of your path home.

👉 Visit the Opportunity Library here