Unlearning & Unfolding: A Trauma-Informed Reflection on Growth and Healing


A Gentle Invitation to Pause and Reflect

Sometimes, the hardest work we do isn’t visible. It isn’t the tasks we check off a list or the big goals we chase. Often, the most important work is quiet, tender, and internal: unlearning old patterns, releasing stories that no longer serve us, and allowing ourselves to unfold into something more authentic and grounded.

As a trauma-informed transformation coach, I’ve seen how deeply we carry survival stories — narratives shaped by early experiences, generational patterns, or simply the ways we learned to protect ourselves. These stories aren’t “bad” or “wrong.” They helped us endure. They helped us survive. But at some point, they can hold us back from living fully, from moving with ease, from trusting ourselves and the world around us.


Unlearning: A Practice of Awareness

Unlearning is a gentle, often slow process. It isn’t about forcing change or erasing the past. It’s about noticing the patterns we’ve inherited or adopted, sitting with them without judgment, and asking:

Which of these stories do I still need? Which ones can I gently release?

It might be an old habit of self-criticism, a survival instinct that no longer serves your present life, or a generational pattern that silently shapes your choices. Simply noticing it is a radical act of care.


Unfolding: Allowing Yourself to Expand

And then comes unfolding — the quiet expansion that follows awareness. It’s the soft growth that happens when we allow ourselves to be held in our own curiosity and compassion.

It’s saying to yourself:

I can be whole even as I let go. I can grow even as I grieve. I can be soft and still be strong.

This unfolding isn’t a destination. It’s a practice. A daily return to yourself with awareness, patience, and compassion.


Integration Through Presence

This week, I invite you to pay attention to your inner landscape. Notice the survival narratives that still run in the background. Reflect on the ways they show up in your relationships, your work, or your self-talk. Then practice gentle unlearning:

  • A breath here.
  • A pause there.
  • A conscious choice to meet yourself with patience instead of criticism.

Integration doesn’t have to be flashy. Awareness itself is transformative. Every time you pause, notice, and hold yourself tenderly, you are doing the work of real, lasting growth.


A Week to Slow Down and Honor Yourself

Unlearning and unfolding is not linear. Some days, you’ll feel progress; other days, patterns may rise again. That’s normal. That’s human. The key is to keep returning to yourself with awareness, curiosity, and self-compassion.

This week, let’s honor the stories we’ve carried, release what no longer serves, and allow ourselves to unfold with grace. You don’t have to do it perfectly. You don’t have to rush. Simply being present with yourself — noticing, breathing, holding space — is enough.

You are enough. Your awareness is enough. Your courage to unlearn and unfold is enough.

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.

Embrace Stillness: A Path to Feminine Power

In a world that demands more, faster, louder… stillness becomes radical.

This week is an invitation to slow down, soften, and return to your own rhythm.

We’re exploring how to shift from hustle to harmony—not by abandoning ambition, but by cultivating presence. Through intentional practices and soul-led check-ins, Week 1 offers spaciousness to breathe, reflect, and begin again.

Because stillness isn’t the absence of movement—it’s the presence of clarity.

We live in a culture that glorifies the grind. Productivity is praised, busyness is worn like a badge, and rest is often mistaken for weakness. But what if the most radical thing you could do this season is… slow down?

Stillness isn’t passive. It’s powerful.

It’s the moment you choose to listen to your body before your calendar. It’s the breath you take before reacting. It’s the sacred pause that reconnects you to your feminine flow—the intuitive, magnetic energy that doesn’t need to chase, prove, or perform.


🌀 Why Stillness Feels Unnatural—And Why We Need It

For many women, stillness feels unfamiliar—even unsafe. Especially if you’ve spent years surviving in high-functioning overwhelm, where movement equals control and silence feels like vulnerability.

Our nervous systems have been trained to equate stillness with danger. When we slow down, old emotions surface. Memories we’ve tucked away begin to whisper. And that can feel overwhelming—until we realize it’s actually an invitation.

Stillness is not the absence of motion. It’s the presence of you.

It’s the space where your soul speaks louder than your schedule. Where your body finally exhales. Where you stop performing and start remembering who you are.


🌿 Feminine Energy Isn’t Fragile—It’s Fierce

To live in your feminine doesn’t mean abandoning ambition. It means aligning your ambition with your soul. It means leading with softness, trusting your intuition, and allowing space for flow instead of force.

Feminine energy is cyclical, intuitive, and deeply embodied. It honors the seasons within us—the moments of bloom, rest, release, and rebirth. When we reclaim this flow, we stop chasing and start attracting. We stop proving and start becoming.

Stillness is the soil where feminine power grows.


💫 From Overwhelm to Opportunity

This is the heart of my coaching practice. I help women move from survival mode to soul-led living. Not by adding more to their plates—but by helping them unburden what no longer serves.

Stillness becomes the doorway to opportunity:

  • Opportunity to hear your own voice again
  • Opportunity to lead from alignment, not anxiety
  • Opportunity to rewrite the story of what success looks like

When we stop rushing, we start receiving.


🛁 A Gentle Challenge

Each day this week, carve out five minutes of intentional stillness. No agenda. No productivity. Just you, your breath, and the quiet wisdom within.

Try placing your hand on your heart and asking:
“What do I need to feel safe in this moment?”
Let your body answer before your mind does.

Let this be your rebellion. Let this be your return.


✨ Coming Soon: Unburdened

If this message resonates, stay close. My upcoming program Unburdened is designed to help you release the emotional weight you’ve been carrying—and step into a life led by clarity, softness, and self-trust.

Stillness isn’t the end of your journey. It’s the beginning.

✨ From Chaos to Clarity: A Weekend Invitation

Chaos doesn’t always arrive loudly.
Sometimes it creeps in as disconnection.
As exhaustion that doesn’t go away with sleep.
As a constant buzzing under the surface—
a sense that no matter what you do, something is still “off.”

Clarity, on the other hand, isn’t always about knowing what’s next.
Often, it begins with a pause. A breath.
A decision to stop spinning and start listening.

This weekend, I’m inviting you to create space for clarity to emerge.

Here are a few gentle ways to begin:


🪞 1. Start with the Body

Chaos lives in our nervous system.
Try grounding techniques like:

  • Putting your bare feet on the earth
  • Stretching for five minutes
  • Placing your hand over your heart and breathing slowly
    Even one minute of conscious stillness can create a ripple.

✍🏽 2. Journal the Noise Out

Sometimes, clarity comes after the chaos is poured onto paper.
Try this prompt:
What’s swirling inside me right now that I haven’t said out loud?

Let it be messy. Let it be honest. You’re not writing for anyone else.


🕯️ 3. Limit the Inputs

Turn down the noise so you can actually hear yourself.
That might mean:

  • A few hours off your phone
  • Saying no to one more scroll
  • Listening to soft music or sitting in silence

Clarity often whispers—it doesn’t shout.


💭 4. Ask a Different Question

If you feel stuck, try shifting your question from:

“What should I do?”
to
“What feels aligned right now?”

Sometimes answers don’t come from the mind.
They rise up from within when we ask better questions.


💌 5. Connect Back to Self

Instead of trying to solve everything this weekend, try this:
Return to yourself.
To what lights you up.
To the version of you that doesn’t need to hustle to be worthy.

Clarity isn’t about doing more.
It’s about remembering who you are underneath the noise.


✨ Ready for deeper clarity?

Book your free 30-minute Clarity Call — a soft, supportive space where you can breathe, sort through the fog, and reconnect to what truly matters.
👉 Book your free call here

With love and gentleness,
Erika 🤍

Finding Freedom from Overwhelm: Small Steps to Healing

There was a time when overwhelm wasn’t just a feeling—it was my everyday reality. I was surviving, not living… until a quiet voice within began to stir, whispering for something more. More rest. More truth. More me.
This is the story of how I found my way back to myself—and how you can, too.

There was a time in my life when overwhelm wasn’t just a feeling—it was the soundtrack of every single day.

I was carrying so much all at once:

  • Healing from deep trauma,
  • Managing the invisible emotional labor of caregiving,
  • Raising three daughters, one with special needs.
  • And quietly trying to rediscover a voice I’d long silenced in an abusive relationship

The weight felt relentless, like a storm that never quite passed.

Some mornings, I’d wake up with a tight knot in my chest, the kind that whispers, “Not today. Not again.” But the world kept spinning, and so did I—barely holding myself together.


I learned early on that being “nice” was safer. It was my armor and my cage all at once.

Pleasing others was easier than rocking the boat, easier than facing the uncomfortable truth that I was shrinking, fading, disappearing.

Every time I swallowed my truth, a little piece of me grew smaller, quieter.

And yet beneath that quiet, something stirred—a deep ache for something different.

For freedom. For authenticity. For joy that wasn’t just a fleeting visitor.


That yearning didn’t come with fireworks or fanfare.

It arrived as a whisper beneath the noise of exhaustion and self-doubt.

It was the courage to say no when my body begged for rest.

The strength to set a boundary, even if it felt shaky and new.

The boldness to finally claim my own needs, even when I feared disappointing others.


Reclaiming myself was not a straight path.

It took time, patience, and an immense amount of grace.

Sometimes it meant sitting with discomfort—leaning into the hard feelings instead of running away.

Sometimes it meant stepping backward to gather strength before moving forward again.

But through it all, I discovered a truth I wish someone had told me sooner. Overwhelm feels heavy and crushing. However, it holds a hidden gift within it.


The gift of clarity.

The opportunity to recognize what no longer serves us.

And the invitation to begin the tender work of letting go.


This space—where overwhelm meets opportunity—is where my coaching heart lives.

If I can rise from silence and from that crushing weight of overwhelm, then so can you. I moved into a place of clarity, agency, and hope.


You don’t have to have it all figured out.

You don’t have to be perfect or “fixed.”

You just need to take the next small step.

And know you’re not alone on this journey.


Reflection to Carry With You

  • When have you felt overwhelmed in a way that changed you?
  • What small step toward yourself feels possible today?
  • How your story, your voice, might be a source of strength for others?

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for your courage to keep showing up.

I see you. I hear you. And I’m walking with you.

Erika

💬 Ready to take your next small step?

Whether you’re navigating burnout, seeking your voice again, or simply craving a moment to breathe—I’m here. Let’s explore what’s possible, together.

👉 Book a free discovery call
👉 Learn more about my 1:1 coaching
👉 Join my newsletter for gentle support + tools

You’re worthy of support. And you don’t have to do it alone.

Breathe and Let Go: A Guide to Self-Awareness

That moment when you say “yes” too fast…
When you offer to help before checking in with yourself…
When you clean, plan, or fix instead of feel…

✨ That’s not just behaviour. It’s a nervous system pattern.

You may not need more effort.
You may need more exhale.

Try This Today: A Gentle Grounding Exercise to Ease Overwhelm

  1. Find a quiet, comfortable space where you won’t be disturbed for a few minutes. Sit or lie down in a way that feels supportive to your body.
  2. Place one hand on your chest—feel the rise and fall of your breath there. Place your other hand on your belly. Notice the subtle expansion with each inhale. Feel the soft release with each exhale.
  3. Close your eyes (if that feels safe) and take a slow, deep breath in through your nose, counting to four. Feel your chest and belly gently lift.
  4. Exhale slowly through your mouth, counting to six, allowing your body to soften and settle with the out-breath.
  5. Repeat this breathing cycle 3-5 times, tuning into the sensations under your hands, anchoring you in the present moment.
  6. Now, gently ask yourself:
    “What am I trying to control right now?”
    Without judgment or expectation, notice whatever thoughts, feelings, or sensations arise. You might feel tension, tightness, or even an urge to push those feelings away — let them be there.
  7. Next, ask:
    “What can I gently let go of?”
    Imagine your breath carrying away any tightness, any need to fix, any heaviness you don’t need to carry. Invite a soft release — even if it’s just a small piece.
  8. Take one last deep breath. Feel gratitude for your body’s wisdom and the space you’ve created. Listen and respond with kindness.

This simple practice reconnects you to your body’s signals. It offers a pathway to ease — one breath at a time.

You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to be willing to pause and listen.

I’d love to hear how this practice feels for you. Share your experience in the comments. You can also send me a message. Let’s support each other in learning to rest well.

Leave a comment

Overcoming Overwhelm: Finding Clarity Amidst Chaos

Sometimes, it looks like smiling through the storm.

Getting through the day but forgetting how to breathe.

If this feels familiar… you’re not alone.

This week, I’m diving into the hidden layers of overwhelm — and how we begin again with breath, boundaries, and micro-moments of clarity.

Stick with me. It’s not about overhauling everything.

It’s about starting here.

When ‘Nice’ Becomes a Cage

The hardest boundary you’ll ever set might not be with your partner, parent, or boss — but with yourself. In this final post of When “Nice” Becomes a Cage, we explore what it means to stop overfunctioning, reparent the part of you that learned to earn love through exhaustion, and finally rest without guilt. This isn’t the end — it’s the beginning of coming home to you.

Part 6: When the Boundary Is with You — Breaking the Habit of Over Functioning


Sometimes the hardest boundary isn’t with a partner, a parent, or a boss.
It’s not with the people around you.
It’s with you.

It’s that quiet, familiar voice that urges you to say yes — even when your body’s begging for rest.
It’s the reflex to jump in, fix it, smooth it over, take it on…
Because that’s what you’ve always done.

This is what over functioning looks like.

And it doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

It’s shaped by survival.
By childhood roles.
By trauma and identity.
By being “the strong one” — the one who holds it all together.

Over functioning wears the mask of competence and care.
But underneath?
There’s often fear.

Fear of letting people down.
Fear of being forgotten if you’re not useful.
Fear of sitting with your own unmet needs.

I know this place deeply.
I lived there for years.

Professionally, I over-delivered.
Personally, I self-abandoned.
I believed being needed meant I mattered.

But eventually, the weight broke me open.

The most radical shift in my healing didn’t come from saying no to others.
It came from saying no to myself — to the part of me that was addicted to overfunctioning.


🕊 Reparenting the Over Functioner Within

Often, the part of us that overfunctions is still trying to earn love, safety, and belonging — as if we’re stuck in a younger version of ourselves who had to be helpful to be seen.

Breaking that habit meant learning to reparent myself:

To speak to that younger version gently.
To say:
“You’re not responsible for holding the world anymore.”
“You don’t have to earn your place here.”
“It’s okay to let go — I’ve got you now.”

Setting a boundary with yourself sometimes looks like protecting that younger part from old patterns that no longer serve your present life.


🌿 Quiet, Sacred Boundaries

I had to learn to speak new truths:

🌀 “You don’t have to take that on.”
🌀 “It’s not your job to carry other people’s comfort.”
🌀 “You are allowed to rest — without earning it first.”

These weren’t loud boundaries.
They weren’t dramatic.
But they were revolutionary.

They gave me back my breath.
They reintroduced me to myself.


💬 Reflection & Growth: Journal Prompts

If you’re ready to look more closely at your own patterns, try journaling on one or more of these:

  • Where in your life do you feel the need to constantly prove your worth?
  • What’s something you wish someone would say to you when you’re overwhelmed?
  • What would shift if you trusted that being loved doesn’t require being everything?

Let these questions stir — not as problems to solve, but as gentle openings into something more truthful.


🌱 The Payoff: What You Gain When You Let Go

When you stop overfunctioning, you begin to feel your own aliveness again.
You reconnect with your body.
Your intuition gets louder.
You remember how to exhale.

✨ You make space for relationships built on mutual care — not obligation.
✨ You discover joy in your own enoughness.
✨ You begin living from a place of being, not proving.


🌿 Clarity Call Invitation

If this series has stirred something in you — if you’re feeling the ache of overfunctioning, the burnout of emotional labor, or the longing to come back home to yourself — I invite you into a free 60-minute Clarity Call.

This is a private, compassionate space to explore:
✨ What you’ve been holding
✨ Where you’re stretched too thin
✨ What it might feel like to finally breathe again

🦋 Book your Clarity Call here
This space is yours, if you’re ready to step into it.


Thank you for walking with me through this series.

We’ve explored the cost of emotional labor, the cage of “being nice,” the ache of saying no, and now — the quiet revolution of choosing yourself.

This isn’t the end.
It’s the beginning.


🔑 Empowered Affirmation to Carry Forward

“I am no longer the keeper of everyone’s comfort. I choose rest — not because I’ve earned it, but because I exist.”


🔔 Stay Connected

If this series spoke to your heart, there’s more to come.

Subscribe for future series from Erika Patterson Coaching — thoughtful, soul-deep reflections to help you navigate real life with more clarity, boundaries, and self-trust.

Lighting the Way from Overwhelm to Opportunity.
You don’t have to walk this path alone.