self-care – Erika Patterson Coaching

The Hidden Costs of Emotional Labor: Recognizing Your Burden

How Emotional Labor Silently Weighs Us Down — and How to Begin Releasing It

There’s a kind of weight many women carry that no one else sees.

It doesn’t show up in bloodwork or MRIs.
It’s not tracked in calendars or covered by sick days.

But it’s real.
And it’s heavy.

It’s the weight of being the one who holds everything —
the one who remembers the appointments, smooths the conflicts, anticipates the needs, and keeps it all together.

It’s emotional labor.

And it quietly builds, year after year…
until one day, you can’t ignore the ache anymore.

What Emotional Labor Actually Is

Emotional labor isn’t just managing emotions.
It’s managing everyone else’s emotions — while putting your own on hold.

It looks like:

• Smiling when you’re tired or hurting
• Taking on responsibilities because “no one else will”
• Keeping the peace at the expense of your own peace
• Remembering, softening, stretching, over-giving — and rarely being thanked for it

Most of us learned this so young, we thought it was just what love looked like.

We believed it was our job to hold everything — and everyone.

But here’s the truth:
Just because you can carry it doesn’t mean you have to.

The Hidden Cost

The cost of carrying it all isn’t always loud.
Most of the time, it’s quiet.

It shows up in subtle, persistent ways:

• Exhaustion that rest can’t fix
• Resentment that bubbles up when you least expect it
• A voice you can barely hear anymore
• Tight shoulders, clenched jaw, shallow breath
• Feeling invisible in your own life

It’s easy to dismiss these things.
To tell yourself you’re just tired. Or hormonal. Or being “too sensitive.”

But these aren’t flaws.
They’re signals.

Whispers from the parts of you that are tired of being overlooked — even by you.

You’re Not Broken — You’re Overburdened

If any of this feels familiar, I want you to know:

You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not “too much.”
And you’re not “not enough.”

You’ve been doing too much for too long in a world that calls that strength.

But something in you is waking up.

You’re beginning to notice what no longer fits —
and what was never yours to carry in the first place.

Three Gentle Ways to Begin Letting Go

This isn’t about dropping everything overnight.

It’s about beginning — slowly, kindly, in your own time.

Here are three quiet ways to start:

1. Notice without judgment.

Start with your body.
Where are you holding tension?
Ask gently: Is this mine to carry?

2. Say no without apology.

Let your no be simple.
You don’t need a reason or a story.
Your no is enough.

3. Offer yourself the same grace you offer others.

You’ve been showing up for everyone else.
Can you start showing up for you, too?
Even a little?

Even one breath.
One boundary.
One honest no.

You were never meant to carry it all.

You were meant to move through the world rooted, clear, and connected —
not weighed down by invisible expectations.

This month, I invite you to set something down.
Even one small thing.

There is strength in your softness.
There is freedom in your pause.
There is power in naming what you will no longer hold.

You don’t have to do this alone.
This space — and this work — is here for you.

✨ Want a gentle place to begin?

I made this for you:
Finding Clarity – A Gentle Start to Reclaiming Yourself

A quiet invitation to reconnect with your own rhythm, needs, and voice.

Start your Clarity Journey

Or simply begin by exhaling.
You’re already on your way.

© Erika Patterson Coaching 2025. All rights reserved.

When ‘Nice’ Becomes a Cage

Somewhere along the way, we were taught that being a ‘good woman’ meant being agreeable, accommodating, and selfless — even at the cost of our well-being. But behind every forced smile and quiet ‘I’m fine’ is a woman who’s been shrinking herself to fit a story that was never hers. It’s time we question the myth of nice — and reclaim the fullness of who we are.

Part 1: The Myth of a Good Woman — How ‘Being Nice’ Has Cost Us Too Much

From the earliest moments of our lives, we are taught a subtle, unspoken lesson:

To be good is to be nice.
To be seen is to be quiet.
To be loved is to be accommodating.

It sounds simple enough, wrapped in gentle words:
“Be polite.”
“Don’t make waves.”
“Take care of others before yourself.”

But beneath this gentle teaching lies a heavy, invisible weight.

Because what we call being nice is often a complex, exhausting dance of survival — a survival learned from trauma, fear, and the desire to belong.

We learn to smooth our edges so we don’t scare others away.
We carry the emotional baggage of everyone around us — the unspoken needs, the silent hurts — as if it were our own.
We apologize for taking up space, for expressing pain, for being too much.
We fold ourselves into silence even when inside, we’re screaming.

And all the while, we wear this mask of niceness like armor — fragile, and yet so demanding.

But here is the truth most don’t say out loud:

Being nice is not the same as being kind.

Kindness is rooted in presence — an authentic honoring of both ourselves and others.

Niceness, by contrast, is often rooted in performance — a scripted behavior shaped by fear of rejection, conflict, or abandonment.

When we choose niceness over truth, we sacrifice the most vital parts of ourselves: our voice, our boundaries, our worth.

We swallow our honest feelings to keep the peace.
We enable harmful patterns because confronting them feels too risky.
We become invisible caretakers, holding the world together at the expense of our own sanity.

But silence is not kindness.
Self-abandonment is not compassion.
Saying yes when every fiber of your body says no is not generosity — it is a slow erasure of self.

Behind many smiles lies a quiet desperation: burnout, loneliness, resentment, and exhaustion from pretending that everything is fine.

In our last series, we named the invisible work that women do every day — the emotional labor that holds families, friendships, and workplaces together.

Now, it’s time to name the cost of that labor.

It’s time to stop over-giving, to stop sacrificing ourselves for others’ comfort.

Because you deserve more than survival.

You deserve boundaries that feel like safety — not prisons.
You deserve relationships rooted in respect — not fear.
You deserve to say “no” without guilt, and to hold your ground with love.

This series is a quiet revolution — a reclaiming of your power, your voice, and your heart.

It’s not about shutting people out or becoming cold.
It’s about becoming whole — fully alive and unapologetically you.

If you feel tired of carrying invisible burdens, if you’ve ever felt crushed beneath the weight of being “nice,” this series is for you.

Together, we will unravel the myths, heal the wounds, and build a new foundation — one where kindness and strength live hand in hand.

Because your worth is not measured by how pleasant you are.

It is measured by your courage to be real.

Coming up next:
What a Boundary Actually Is — And What It Isn’t

We’ll break down the myths around boundaries and explore what they look like when they’re rooted in love — not fear.

If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you.
Hit reply, or forward this to someone who needs to know: you don’t have to earn your worth by being pleasant.

With warmth,
Erika

Recognizing Overwhelm – The First Step to Change

We’ve all done it. Smiled when we were breaking. Said “I’m fine” with a throat full of tears. Juggled work, kids, caregiving, deadlines, expectations, bills — all while quietly managing the deep, hollow ache of loneliness. And somehow, we still show up. We hold the center. We do what needs to be done.

It becomes second nature. Expected, even.

And the more we hold it all together, the more invisible our overwhelm becomes. We disappear into our roles, our responsibilities, our shoulds.

But here’s the quiet truth no one tells you:
Holding it all together doesn’t make you strong.
It makes you vanish.

For decades, I wrote my thoughts, feelings, and stories—sometimes quietly, sometimes fiercely—but I didn’t always share them.
Now, I’ve stepped into the light.
I’ve moved beyond performing stability while quietly crumbling inside.
I’ve faced and honored my grief instead of tucking it away.
I’ve reclaimed my place—no longer living in the margins, but fully present in my own life.

And I realized — I wasn’t the only one.

So many women — especially those who’ve had to lead, protect, survive — become masters of emotional containment. We tidy our breakdowns into neat compartments. We swallow our needs. We shape-shift to fit what the world demands of us. And then we lie awake at night, wondering why we feel so far away from ourselves.

This isn’t strength.
This isn’t resilience.
This isn’t living.

Here’s what I believe now:
There is radical power in letting it fall apart.
In being seen in your softness.
In asking for help without shame.
In saying “I can’t carry this alone.”
In choosing rest over performance. Truth over image.
Wholeness over hustle.

The “Overwhelm Reset” isn’t about productivity hacks or color-coded calendars.
It’s about permission.

Permission to stop pretending.
Permission to step out of the roles that are costing you your peace.
Permission to unhook from perfection.
Permission to be human again.

This is your invitation.

To unlearn the myth.
To come home to yourself.
To stop performing wholeness and begin living in your truth — messy, real, unfiltered.
To let go of the version of you that always keeps it together — and make space for the version who breathes deeply, who tells the truth, who asks for what she needs, who receives.

If you’re feeling ready to take a next step toward reclaiming your energy and peace, I offer several coaching paths designed to support you at every stage—from gentle resets to deep transformation. Whether you’re looking for short-term relief or a longer journey home to yourself, there’s a place here for you.

Let’s begin there.
Together.

Erika