That’s what Episode #2 of Healing Out Loud is all about — The Red Arc.It’s that charged space between awareness and reaction, where your body remembers before your mind does.

This isn’t regression. It’s recognition — and proof that you’re human.

🎧 Listen to Episode #2

If this one resonates, I’d love for you to share it with someone who might need to hear it today.

All love,

Sue

For years, I’ve poured my heart into writing. Stories. Essays. Reflections.Words that have carried me (and hopefully, you) through seasons of healing, uncertainty, and growth.

But lately, I’ve been hearing something from the people I work with:“Susan, I needed to hear your voice.”

It caught me off guard at first. I’ve always loved the rhythm of writing — the quiet of it, the control of shaping a sentence until it feels right.But voice… voice is different.

Voice carries energy.It’s the tremble, the pause, the exhale.It’s what reminds us that healing isn’t something we just read about — it’s something we feel.

So I decided to bring my work into a new medium.🎙️ Introducing Healing Out Loud: A Guided Self-Discovery Podcast.

Each episode is an invitation to slow down and listen inward — to your breath, your intuition, and the parts of you that have been waiting to be heard.

I’ll share reflections, stories, and the same kind of truths you’ve found here — but in a way that lets you feel the words instead of just reading them.

The first episode is live now.It’s short, honest, and imperfect — but that’s exactly the point.

Because healing out loud isn’t about being polished.It’s about being present.

Thank you for being here — for reading, feeling, and now, listening.

You can also find me on YouTube - and view my full collection of videos.

Here’s to the next chapter of Healing Out Loud.

All love,

Sue

Less action. More ease. More listening.

And while I haven’t been as visible—fewer emails, fewer Substack & LinkedIn posts, fewer big projects—something real has been happening during this time.

Reading True and False Magic by Phil Stutz gave me language for what I’ve been feeling.

He writes about the Life Force—a foundational current within us that moves us toward vitality, connection, and purpose. And how, when we feel emotionally or mentally stuck, the Life Force is always the place to return to.

It’s not a strategy.

It’s not a mindset shift.

It’s not a 5-step plan.

It’s more primal than that.

It’s the act of re-engaging with life itself.

He defines the Life Force in three layers:

* Your relationship with your body

* Your relationship with people

* Your relationship with yourself (your higher self)

When I looked at my recent weeks through that lens, I realized something:

I have been nurturing my Life Force. Just in quieter ways.

* Cooking, walking, gardening, and body care.

* Letting go of the need to impress or save—cleaning up old relationship patterns.

* Reading, reflecting, and choosing not to rush—reconnecting to my higher self.

And even though it feels weird, I’m starting to settle into this ‘new normal’. I am starting to want to write again and although I may not have full clarity on what’s next for me, I trust the process.

I haven’t disappeared. I’ve been restoring the current.

If you’ve been feeling off, stuck, or unmotivated, maybe don’t start with a new goal.

Start with your Life Force.

Breathe.

Move.

Reach out.

Reflect.

Rest.

Let your return begin with living again.

I’ll be writing more about this in the weeks ahead, especially how it connects to creating from a grounded place.

All love,

Sue

And what immediately came to me was:

You’re not talking about what’s really going on right now.

So, I’ll start here.

While I’m excitedly growing a business and working with some incredible people, I’m also deeply weighed down by what I can only imagine is grief.

My mom’s heavenly birthday was this month.

My dad’s is next month.

And in the middle of it all, my sister and I are selling their house.

The house we grew up in. The house with layers of memories—some sweet, some complicated, some still sitting in silence.

It’s a lot.

I move through my day with a kind of numbness, but not in a bad way.

I’m not disconnected—I don’t feel everything as sharply as I used to.

Or if I do, I examine it, inspect it, try to understand where it’s coming from, and then I return to the moment.

Sometimes that takes a few minutes.

Sometimes, it takes hours—especially when I get caught in a memory loop or some story my mind is spinning about the future.

This is when I remind myself:

Two things can co-exist.

I can be wildly excited about this new chapter.

I can feel more spiritually aligned than ever before.

And—

I can be grieving.I can be revisiting old pain.

I can question whether this version of life—the quieter, more isolated one my husband and I have built—is what I truly want.

Some days, it feels peaceful.Other days, it feels like a long, lonely exhale.

We’ve been married 35 years.

We don’t really fight.

We’re different in almost every way—and yet, we’re mostly aligned.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve outgrown him.

And then I see how he grows in his quiet way.

I used to think we had to grow in the same direction at the same pace.

But now I know—he grounds while I expand.

He lives in the moment, while I dive into the depths of mine.

And that’s okay. That’s us.

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

I’m calling this grief because I don’t know what else to call this numb feeling.

My relationship with my mom was complicated.

And I haven’t grieved in the way I expected myself to.

Maybe that’s the hardest part—expecting yourself to grieve “right.”

There’s no map for complicated grief.

There is no clean process for mourning what never felt fully resolved.

But I’m letting myself feel it—whatever "it" is.

I’m letting the memories rise and the numbness sit beside me.

And I’m reminding myself that I don’t have to choose between sadness and joy.

They can both live here.

So today, I’m naming it.

Letting it be real.

Letting it breathe.

Because pretending I’m only one thing—just happy, strong, excited—doesn’t tell the truth.

This season is layered.

This growth is sacred.

And this grief? It’s part of letting go that makes room for something new.

For years, I worked in corporate America and saw firsthand how executives wore the mask of “I’ve got it all together” while privately battling stress, people-pleasing, and self-doubt.

Today, I work with founders who, on paper, are “killing it.” But behind the scenes, they are emotionally drained. Yet, they seem addicted to the hamster wheel they live life on.

Second-guess every decision, delaying taking meaningful action. Having success but only seeing what they ‘aren’t’ doing or producing.

They carry the weight of their entire business 24/7 and never give themselves time to rest.

They feel exhausted, and the only break comes from complete collapse when the body and mind finally force it upon them.

I’ve developed a self-audit to help them quantify the hidden cost of staying in this unsustainable loop.

High-functioning anxiety and doubt unknowingly have them making decisions that drain them mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially.

Their overcommitment to "doing it all" slows their success and clouds what’s working.

The cost of not addressing this is far greater than they realize. They are in a race to reach a milestone, but ironically, their behavior is slowing them down in seeing results.

My self-audit tracks:

* Which tasks make me feel energized or fulfilled?

* Which tasks make me feel stressed and drained?

* Where am I overexplaining, overcommitting, or overcompensating?

* How often am I making decisions from anxiety and speed rather than clarity?

Most founders don’t realize:

Anxiety-driven decisions feel like urgency but often lead to total exhaustion.

The need to be in control keeps them stuck.

Their mental load is silently draining their capacity to lead others.

Client Example: “I Can’t Slow Down”

👤 Meet Sarah, a founder of a coaching business that looks like a huge success from the outside.

She’s doing well—clients, revenue, and a steady work stream. But inside? She’s barely holding on.

* She feels guilty about taking time off because she firmly believes business will slow down.

* She over-delivers in every client project out of fear they won’t stay.

* She avoids hiring help because she doesn’t trust anyone to handle things like she does.

* She works late at night and on weekends because she can’t turn her brain off.

Sarah’s business looks successful, but she feels trapped inside it.

When we audited her decision-making process, we uncovered this:

* She was saying YES to things that drained her to avoid conflict.

* She was making fear-based choices, which slowed her long-term vision.

* She was so used to functioning under stress that she mistook it for motivation.

What I’m Learning From This Experiment

High achievers often mistake stress for productivity.

Anxiety-driven decisions create short-term relief but long-term exhaustion.

The cost of not addressing this isn’t just emotional—it’s financial.

When I ran this self-audit with clients, they saw exactly where anxiety was costing them money, energy, and peace of mind.

Now, I’m refining this into a repeatable process for founders—so they can:

Make decisions from clarity, not pressure

Build a business that feels good, not like a dreaded chore.

Stop running in circles and slow down to speed up.

If you’ve built a business that looks successful but feels heavy,

it’s time to change the way you operate.

If you’re:

* Wondering why you always feel on edge in your business.

* Feeling like you can’t step back without losing momentum.

* Ready to see where you’re making anxiety-driven decisions (without realizing it).

Comment or message me “SELF-AUDIT,” and I’ll share the framework.

Follow me on LinkedIn

You need more stability inside yourself.Here’s the truth most people don’t say out loud:

No one escapes the storm.

Not the smart.Not the spiritual.Not even the strong.

And when you don’t know how to regulate?

Every little thing wrecks you.

Before I learned how to regulate my emotions, I was constantly one bad moment away from spiraling.

One frustrating conversation? Ruined my whole day.

One uncomfortable interaction? It made me rethink my entire approach and personality.

One unexpected change? It left me panicked, scrambling for control.

I didn’t know how to stay steady.

Storms are built into the process.

They come without warning.They’re loud, messy, disorienting.They shake your confidence, cloud your judgment, and make you question everything.

And our first instinct?Fix it.

Make it go away. Patch it. Power through it.We’ve been taught that if something’s broken, fix it fast.

But some storms weren’t meant to be fixed.

“The art of the storm isn’t fixing.It’s surviving.”– adapted from Bishop T.D. Jakes

You cannot fix the storm.But you can learn how to stay steady inside it.And more than that—you can learn how to let it shape you, instead of break you.

Regulation isn’t about not feeling things.

It’s about knowing how to hold yourself through them.

It’s learning how to catch anxiety before it spins into a full-blown spiral.

It’s feeling anger or hurt without stuffing it down or lashing out.

It’s knowing how to shift out of stress without completely shutting down.

That’s the work we do in Month 2 - Regulate the Inside, Stabilize the Outside

Mental models that actually work.

Your energy stops being stolen by every little setback.

Your days will no longer be dictated by other people’s moods, last-minute changes, or stressors you can’t control.

You start feeling calm, clear, and capable—even when life is messy.

This is where things really start to change.Most business owners live in a constant low-level state of stress—sometimes high-level.We work to understand what's actually happening in your body, how to recognize survival-mode patterns, and how to come back to calm—on command.

Because regulated founders make better decisions.And that calm? It becomes your superpower.We look at what really drives your anxiety when things feel like they’re falling apart.What you’re afraid of.What you’re still trying to prove.And how to stop letting shame or fear run the show.You’ll uncover where you’re leaking energy:People-pleasing, overworking, giving too much access, or under-delivering to yourself.

Then, we create strong, clear boundaries—not just so others respect you, but so you start showing up for yourself in a new way.You don’t need more hacks or color-coded to-do lists.You need to understand your personal rhythm—your real capacity—and how to build a business that supports it.

This isn’t about doing less for the sake of it.It’s about learning how to protect the energy required to do what matters.You’ve made it through storms before.But this time, we help you walk through it with more self-trust, more peace, and less damage to your health, relationships, or business.

This is the work most people skip.

They build a strategy on top of dysregulation.They hire help before doing the internal cleanup.They wonder why nothing ever feels “safe” or “enough”—even when it’s working.

But you won’t be that founder.

You’ll know how to sit in the storm without falling apart.You’ll know how to hold steady when things get noisy.And you’ll build from the inside out—so it actually lasts.

You’re not broken. You’re BECOMING.And you don’t have to go it alone.

Who is with you in the storm? Let’s go there together.

Sue

Instead of pushing it down, I decided to sit with it, to see what my body and mind were trying to tell me. And what I realized?

Anxiety isn’t a stop sign—it’s information.

In this episode, I break down:✅ Why anxiety shows up when we step into something new✅ How my old triggers resurfaced in this launch✅ What I’m doing in real time to shift how I respond

What’s one moment when anxiety tried to hold you back? Reply and tell me—I’d love to hear.

✔ I had to keep pushing through ✔ I had to stay productive ✔ I had to prove my worth

If I could work harder, if I could just be more chill, if I could just figure it all out, then maybe—just maybe—I’d finally feel better.

But no matter what I did, I always ended up in the same place—stuck, drained, replaying old hurts on a loop in my head.

And then, one day, I broke.

Not in a graceful, controlled way. Not in a this is my healing era way.

I hit a wall.

I was depleted of all energyI was frazzled.I was ready to try something new and scary.

And so, for the first time, I did something I had spent 15 years avoiding.

It was the homework from my coach. Tomorrow, I want you to sit in your feelings for 10 minutes she said. I remember being shocked and saying, ’10 MINUTES?!’. She said yes…and no tv, no magazine, no book. Nothing. Just you sitting there and feeling what comes up.

So I always did what Maia suggested because this woman knew her stuff and she cared about me.

I knew she had my best interests at heart so I did what she asked me to do.

I let myself fall apart.

I ugly cried on the couch in my living room. Sitting there leaning up against the arm, looking outside at the beautiful pond in my backyard. I allowed every repressed emotion hit me like a wave. It sucked.Why am I doing this? God this is a lot to deal with. I’m gonna need therapy today for sure.

I didn’t journal my feelings into a notebook.I didn’t meditate them away.

I didn’t even know about these things back then.

I sat there, eating a bag of cheese doodles and drinking an orange soda, and finally, I let myself feel. Even though Maia said nothing w/you I was sure she didn’t mean no to my favorite snack and drink.

And for the first time, I realized:

I had spent decades running from sitting with myself.

Running from my anxietyRunning from my exhaustion.Running from the broken version of me..

But here’s the thing about emotions:

They don’t disappear just because you ignore them.

They sit there, buried under your productivity, busyness, and ability to hold it all together.They live in your chest, stomach, and body—until one day, you feel like you might internally combust if someone looks at you the wrong way.

That day, I finally stopped treating my emotions like problems to fix.

Instead, I let them speak.

✨ The tightness in my chest? My body begging me to slow down.✨ The exhaustion? Not just from life—but from holding up the mask.✨ The anxiety? Not an enemy—but a sign I had been ignoring myself for too long.

And when I finally stopped fighting myself?

Everything shifted.

✔ I learned how to catch myself people-pleasing before it drained me.✔ I stopped ignoring what my body was trying to tell me.✔ I realized I wasn’t broken—I was burnt out from proving myself.

Here’s what I know now:

✨ You don’t have to keep running.✨ You don’t have to earn your way to peace.✨ You don’t have to fix yourself to be worthy of feeling good.

Feeling good isn’t something you achieve.

It’s something you allow.

And that’s exactly what I help others do.

With or without cheese doodles and orange soda (your choice).

If this resonates, stay tuned. I’ll share more soon for those ready to stop waiting and start feeling better.

💬 Have you ever felt like you were running from yourself? Tell me in the comments.

The reliable one.

The one who could handle anything—or at least, that’s what I let people believe.

I thought that if I just kept it together, stayed productive, and pushed through, I’d be okay.

And for a while? The mask worked.

✔ I knew how to smile, even when I was struggling.

✔ I knew how to be “fine”, even when I felt like I was drowning.

✔ I knew how to keep showing up, even when I had nothing left to give.

But then?

The cracks started to show.

🔸 Someone would ask how I was doing, and I’d hesitate—because the truth felt too messy to say out loud.

🔸 A single offhand comment or a less-than-ideal interaction would send me spiraling—not because of what was said, but because of everything I had been carrying for years.

🔸 I’d catch myself replaying the same old hurts and disappointments, like a loop in my mind I couldn’t turn off no matter how much I wanted to.

And then one day, it happened.

The mask wasn’t protecting me anymore.

It was obvious—not just to me, but to everyone who looked at me.

I could swear they could see “BROKEN” written on my forehead.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I hid.

I stayed home. I secluded myself. I withdrew from everything.

I lost friendships as people didn’t understand my ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ behavior.

Because the thing about wearing a mask for so long?

When it finally slips, you don’t know who you are without it.

And that? That was the worst part.

The Truth About Why We Wear the Mask

This isn’t just my story—it’s the experience of so many people living with high-functioning anxiety, depression, and hidden mental resilience struggles.

We don’t wear the mask because we want to.

We wear it because we were taught that’s what “strong” people do.

✔ We learned early on that emotions make people uncomfortable—so we packaged them neatly or pushed them away.

✔ We believed that if we were struggling, we just weren’t working hard enough.

✔ We got praised for being the responsible one, the reliable one, the strong one.

And at some point, we believed that’s all we were allowed to be.

But here’s the truth no one tells you:

The mask doesn’t actually make you stronger.

It just makes you exhausted.

What Happens When You Take the Mask Off?

Taking off the mask doesn’t mean falling apart.

It means finally learning how to live as yourself—without fear, without apology, without the constant exhaustion of pretending.

✅ It means feeling safe in your own mind—not like you’re battling yourself every day.

✅ It means trusting yourself again instead of gaslighting yourself into pushing harder.

✅ It means building resilience—so you can navigate stress without slipping into survival mode.

✅ It means letting go of guilt—for needing rest, boundaries, or support.

But most of all?

It means knowing you don’t have to prove your worth through struggle.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but this moment—this breaking point—was when I found my “why.”

The version of me underneath the mask?

She had been waiting for me all along.

In my next post, I’ll share what happens when we start loosening the mask’s grip—and the first step to finding yourself beneath it.

All love,

Sue

For years, I thought the only way to feel better was to fix my broken self.

I spent my whole life trying to turn myself into something else—

Trying to be less anxious, less emotional, less "too much."

Trying to overcome my self-doubt, my overthinking, my sensitivity.

Trying to eliminate the parts of me that felt messy, broken, or inconvenient.

I saw them as weaknesses. Flaws that needed to be erased.

So I tried - NON-STOP

I read the books.I pushed myself harderI set goals to be better, stronger, more disciplined.

But no matter what I did, those parts of me never really left.

They just got louder.

* The more I tried to suppress my emotions, the more overwhelmed I felt.

* The more I tried to "reframe" my anxiety, the more it controlled me.

* The more I tried to push through exhaustion, the more disconnected I became from myself.

I was at war with myself.

Until I realized something that changed everything:

The traits I was trying to eliminate weren’t weaknesses. They were strengths that had been misused.

The self-help industry, now worth over $14 billion, keeps us stuck in loops of endless optimization. We read and integrate the same generic advice without considering whether it truly aligns with our unique patterns, needs, and circumstances.

Some of the BS reframes I thought served me, when it just reinforced the behaviours I was trying so hard to “fix”:

👉 Perfectionism is attention to detail—but when misused, it paralyzes you.

👉 Overthinking is deep analysis—but when unregulated, it spirals into anxiety.

👉 People-pleasing is emotional intelligence—but when unchecked, it leaves you drained.

The real work isn’t to get rid of these traits.

It’s about learning to channel them into something that serves you instead of controls you.

And that’s what I had to learn the hard way. The parts of me I thought I had to fight were the very things that held my power.

In the next few days, I’ll share something I’ve been working on—something for those of us who are tired of keeping it all together, tired of self-improvement that only makes us feel worse, and ready for something different.

More soon.

All love,

Sue

It’s just… always been there. The capable, composed, high-functioning version of you that shows up every day, handles everything, and keeps going—no matter what.

At some point, it stopped being a mask and became who you are.

But then, something happens.

✔ Someone asks how you’re really doing, and you hesitate—because the truth feels too messy to say out loud.

✔ You snap at something small, and suddenly, frustration, exhaustion, or resentment bubbles up out of nowhere.

✔ A casual comment slips out—something unfiltered, something raw—and for a moment, you feel exposed.

That’s the moment the mask slips.

For a split second, you see something beneath the surface—a habit, a belief, a way of coping you weren’t fully aware of before.

That’s when you realize: there’s a version of you underneath this mask that’s been waiting to be seen.

And here’s the thing about the mask: it’s incredibly heavy.

The longer we wear it, the more exhausted we become.

We all wear them.

The "I’ve got this under control" mask.

The "I’m fine" mask.

It is the one that keeps us moving, even when something deep inside calls for us to stop, pay attention, and look closer.

But what if you didn’t have to hold it up anymore?

What if you didn’t have to push through, pretend, or exhaust yourself just to feel okay?

The truth is, there’s nothing wrong with you.

There’s just a story that’s been running on repeat. A story you’ve been stuck in for so long that you’ve started believing it’s the only way.

But it’s not.

In a few days, I’ll share something I’ve been working on—something for those who are tired of holding it all together but don’t know how to stop.

Something that helps you step out from behind the mask—without losing yourself in the process.

More soon.

All love,

Sue.

Peace.