Truth #4: Mabel's Buried Emotional Baggage: The Silent Stories That Shape Our Lives

Monica is guiding you through a 10-week deep dive into these ten truths, peeling back the layers of chaos with practical tools, empowering insights, and her real-life experiences. Whether you’re feeling stuck in your fertility journey or wrestling with overwhelm and doubt in another area of life, these conversations offer a roadmap to healing and transformation. Tune in to the Finding Fertility Podcast and blog for more real talk, actionable steps, and the space to create the life you’ve been working so hard to build.

Why Grief Isn’t Failure: The Raw Truth About Infertility and Healing

4. Buried Emotional Baggage
   Grief, anger, and disappointment are simmering beneath the surface. By avoiding them, Mabel is letting these unresolved feelings run the show from behind the scenes.

Mabel perched on the edge of the couch, her journal sprawled open in her lap, its crisp pages staring back at her—blank, expectant, almost taunting. Her pen hovered midair, a silent soldier unsure of its next move. She let out a slow breath, her mind swirling with thoughts too tangled to unravel. Where should she even begin?

Monica had mentioned something about Unresolved Emotional Blocks. A phrase that sounded so clinical, so put-together—like something you’d hear in a self-help book or a motivational podcast. Mabel laughed because she knew Monica had a PhD in self-help (not literally, but close enough) and always reminded her that most of that shit could be thrown out the window. So the fact that this felt like an emotional ambush? That meant it was important. That she should stick this out.

Coherence. Monica talked about it all the time—how getting your nervous system, emotions, and energy in sync creates real change. Not just think positive change, but deep, cellular-level shifts. Coherence had a funny way of shining a spotlight on all the emotional baggage you’d stuffed in a corner labeled, I’ll deal with this later. And apparently, Mabel had a whole damn storage unit full of it.

Grief she hadn’t fully processed.
Resentment she was still clutching like a security blanket.
Old wounds she thought had healed but were really just scarred over, waiting to be picked at.

She knew facing it would be uncomfortable. But avoiding it? That was like trying to build a house on quicksand. No matter how many self-help books she read or how many fertility-friendly meals she cooked, if she didn’t clear the emotional mess, it would keep seeping into everything.

And now, with Monica on holiday for two weeks, she didn’t even have her usual lifeline. No calls. No sessions. Just…

At that moment, her thoughts were interrupted by the soft ping of a notification. It was a telegram from Monica. Mabel reached for her phone, already bracing herself for what was coming. Homework. As if on cue, Monica had refused to let her off the hook, even while meditating in the mountains for two weeks.

Monica: You did great work in our last session uncovering some of the hidden emotional blocks behind the patterns you’ve been running. Let’s keep going with that—because as much as I’m here to help you see these things, remember, this is about becoming your own healer. It’s time for you to go deeper over the next few weeks before our third session.

📓 Journal entries. Deep, raw, no-filter style.
You’ve already started pulling things up to the surface—now sit with them. Think of this like emotional archaeology: the more you excavate, the more you’ll understand why these patterns keep running the show.

I’ve got three journal prompts to get you started. Then, don’t forget to access the D.R.E.A.M.S. course for more in-depth support for each area:

1️⃣ "What did I need as a child that I never got?"

• What emotions did I have to suppress?

• How did I learn to cope?

• How is this showing up in my life now?
  📌 [Refer to: Energetics—Dealing with the Past (Trauma)]

2️⃣ "If I let myself be really, truly angry, what would I say?"

• No editing. No guilt. Just raw, unfiltered emotion.

• Who am I angry at? Myself? Someone else? Life?

• What have I been swallowing down for years?
  📌 [Refer to: Energetics—How to Release Anger and Fear]

3️⃣ "What’s the story I’ve been telling myself about my body, my worth, and my ability to become a mom?"

• Where did this story start?

• Whose voice does it sound like?

• What happens if I let that story go?
  📌 [Refer to: Mindset—The Importance of Thinking & Speaking in a More Positive Way]

💡 No pressure to make it neat. Let it be messy, ugly, real. Get it out of your head and onto the page. And remember—when you uncover the emotion or belief behind it, fill in what belief or emotion you want to have instead. Get yourself into a whole brain state, release & replace that emotion.

We promised each other that we’d move through these emotions with ease and grace. The messy part is the discovery. The easy part is the release. So don’t overcomplicate it or overthink it. [Refer to: Energetics—How to Move Stuck Energy if needed]

If things get heavy, just message me here and we’ll work through it. And take your time—this isn’t a marathon. You’ll find some of this is easy, and some of it will be heavy and emotional. Honor what you feel. This work shows up when it’s most meaningful, not when it feels like a chore.

That last sentence felt like a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Mabel wasn’t ready for this—not tonight.

With a heavy sigh, she glanced at the blank notebook in her lap, its pages empty and waiting. She shut it with a resolute snap, whispering to herself, “Tomorrow. I promise.”

Deep down, she knew there was a world of difference between recognizing her patterns and facing the raw truth of them—laid bare, exposed, impossible to shove back into neatly labeled boxes anymore.

"Tomorrow," she reaffirmed, hoping the promise would gather strength overnight.

A beat of silence.

Then—Monique.

"Sure, Mabel. Tomorrow. And then tomorrow again. And then maybe next week, right? Oh! Or better yet—never. Because let’s be honest, we both know that’s where this is heading."

Mabel groaned, rubbing her temples. "Not now, Monique."

Monique tsked. "Not now, not tomorrow, not next week. Let me guess—you’re waiting for the right time? When it feels a little easier? Spoiler alert: it’s never gonna feel easy, babe. You just have to rip the damn Band-Aid off."

Mabel clenched her jaw. She hated how Monique was always too right, too blunt, too unwilling to let her hide from herself.

But she wasn’t ready to face it.

Not yet.

"Tomorrow," she repeated, firmer this time.

Monique let out a sigh—not exasperated, but knowing. The kind that said, I’ve been here too.

"Alright, Mabel. You can wait, you can stall, you can push it down—but it’s not going anywhere until you face it. And I need you to know, you deserve to be free from it all. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe."

Then, silence.

Monique was gone.

And Mabel was left alone with her thoughts, her notebook, and a promise she wasn’t quite ready to keep.

Three days later, she found herself staring at the same blank page.

But this time, something had shifted.

A quiet determination bloomed in her chest, steady and unshaken. She could feel the weight of what was coming, the pull of emotions waiting to surface. And she knew exactly where this journey would lead—to the woman she loved the most.

Her mom.

And how she had stayed silent to keep the peace.

"Ahh, there she is," Monique’s voice slid in, warm but laced with that signature bite. "I was starting to think you and that blank page had made a lifelong commitment to avoidance. But hey, better late than never. And for the record? I knew you’d get here. Now, don’t stop—you're onto something real.”

Mabel had spent her last session with Monica digging up buried emotional baggage she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. And now, she understood—this wasn’t just about fertility.

It was about who she had been taught to be.

She had started that call expecting to talk about stress, food, maybe even some subconscious beliefs around pregnancy.

Instead, Monica had led her straight into a moment she hadn’t thought about in years.

Eight years old.

A math test.

Her dad’s quiet disappointment.

The way her chest had caved in, the way her fingers had curled around the paper, the way something small but significant had shifted inside her.

That one moment wasn’t everything, but it was a crack in the foundation. One of many.

And suddenly, another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

She watched her mom repeat again and again, the exact same thing she did to Mabel that same night with the maths test at the kitchen table: She could see it so clearly now—how it had played out over and over again. The same way her mother had handled that night at the kitchen table after the math test: no arguments, no confrontation. Just a kiss on the top of Mabel’s head, a soft reassurance that made things easier, that kept the peace. Choosing silence over confrontation.

Mable didn’t believe that her mother did this because she was weak. But maybe because she had learned it was the safest way. Maybe, somewhere along the way, Mabel’s mom had been taught—silently, subtly—that keeping things running smoothly mattered more than how she felt. That swallowing discomfort was just part of loving people. That emotions, when inconvenient, were best left unspoken. Maybe no one ever showed her another way.

Mabel had spent countless years in pursuit of an elusive sense of being "good enough," her heart weighed down by the nearly unbearable anchor of almost-perfect. It was an unseen weight that had settled on her chest, a constant reminder of every expectation she felt pressed upon her—from others, from herself. Now, as she sat in the silence of her room, her journal open wide before her, another truth began to unfurl like a long-hidden secret.

It was a revelation that struck with the force of a gentle wave washing over sand, sculpting the landscape of her understanding. This burden she carried was not merely her own; it was an echo of something larger, a narrative woven through generations. Mabel had witnessed her mother swallow her feelings countless times—the way she managed to smooth over the jagged edges of life with practiced ease, crafting excuses rather than facing discomfort.

"It’s fine, sweetheart," her mother would say, a calmness in her voice that belied the turmoil beneath. "Your dad doesn’t mean anything by it." Each sentence was a balm, an attempt to quell the silent storms that brewed in the background. "It’s just the way things are." Those words echoed like a mantra, a comforting lie that masked deeper truths. Mabel realized, her mother had been embodying a quiet endurance, sacrificing her own emotional needs to keep the peace, to maintain a veneer of harmony in their home.

It wasn’t that Mabel’s home had been marred by any overt trauma—there were no screaming fights or explosive confrontations to scar the walls with tension. Instead, there existed a tranquil veneer, a quiet understanding that hovered in the air like dust motes in the sunlight. It was an unspoken agreement that certain emotions were better left unexamined, that making a fuss over feelings wasn’t worth the resulting discomfort.

And so, Mabel learned. She learned to bury her feelings like seeds buried in frost, hidden away from the light of day, waiting for warmth that never quite came. She came to understand that expressing disappointment was an act fraught with potential upheaval; it could shift the delicate balance, rippling through the calm surface of their family life and leaving uncomfortable waves in its wake. Being “too emotional” became synonymous with being a burden, a flaw that needed to be masked, disguised beneath layers of practiced indifference. Mabel absorbed these lessons as though they were etched into her very being, a foundational truth that shaped her thoughts and actions.

She believed that the path to love and acceptance lay in silence, in compliance, in never daring to disrupt the fragile peace her family maintained. As she sat with her journal, Mabel began to comprehend how, in her pursuit of emotional safety, she had constructed walls around her heart—walls that shielded her from discomfort but also from the warmth of authentic connection.

Mabel’s throat tightened.

Mabel had always been aware of the sacrifices her mother made for their family—her time, her energy, her personal needs. These were tangible relinquishments, easy to recognize and acknowledge. But it wasn't until now that she began to turn her attention to the invisible sacrifices, the ones that lingered in the shadows, unnamed yet profoundly impactful. These were the moments that went unnoticed but shaped their lives in ways that would echo through generations. Those instances when her mother had something to say but held back, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue, stifled by an ingrained sense of obligation to keep the peace.

Mabel imagined the countless times her mother might have yearned to ask for more—more understanding, more love, more room to breathe—yet, out of fear or habit, she chose silence instead. In the quiet corners of her mother’s heart, there lay a trove of emotions that remained unexpressed; feelings of being unseen, unheard, yet convincing herself that it was all perfectly fine. It was a paradox that Mabel struggled to grasp, the idea that love could feel like a burden—an assumption that emotional needs were secondary to maintaining harmony.

As she contemplated these unspoken moments, she could almost hear the weight of her mother's silence, a testament to resilience wrapped in love but tinged with sadness. It was a realization that left Mabel unsettled, a burgeoning awareness that those invisible sacrifices were not merely relics of the past; they lived within her now, woven into the fabric of her own existence.

Mabel was doing the same.

Mabel closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to drift through the memories and perceptions that had shaped her understanding of love. Because that’s what love looked like, right? Being easy. Being accommodating. Being pleasing. In her mind, those attributes were synonymous with affection, the markers of devotion that had been instilled in her since childhood. She had never laid blame at her mother's feet for this, and she certainly didn’t feel that way now. But for the first time, clarity washed over her like a gentle tide, illuminating a truth she had long overlooked.

In seeing her mother more clearly, she began to see herself reflected back—a mirror of unspoken expectations and unacknowledged desires. This wasn’t merely about her dad’s critical words or that singular math test that had haunted her thoughts.No, this ran deeper. It was etched into her upbringing, an invisible thread stitched through generations, shaping the way she moved through the world. Mabel realized that she had been following this creed her entire life, caught in a cycle of people-pleasing and perfectionism. Deep down, there lingered a quiet belief that if she just got everything right—if she mastered the art of making others happy—then she would be loved more fully, held more gently, seen more completely.

The weight of almost-perfect loomed like a shadow, a constant companion that filled her with dread at the thought of mistakes. She let out a slow, shaky breath as the understanding settled in her chest. The fear of errors, the hesitation to voice her own needs—it wasn’t solely her burden to carry. It was her mother’s legacy, a thread spun into the fabric of her own existence, just as it had been for her mother’s mother before that. And maybe—just maybe—it was time to release it all. Mabel glanced down at her open journal, its pristine pages waiting patiently for her thoughts.

She picked up her pen, feeling the smooth weight of it in her hand, and, for the first time, she began to write. Not to be perfect. Not to get it right. But simply to let it all out, to free herself from the shackles of almost-perfect and embrace the messy, beautiful truth of her own journey.

Journal Entries:

📌 "What did I need as a child that I never got?"

Old Belief:

• I needed to know that speaking up was safe.

• I needed to know that mistakes were okay.

• I needed to feel seen and valued, even when I wasn’t perfect.

🧠 Whole-Brain Flip:
"It is safe for me to speak my truth. My voice matters. I am worthy because I am me.”

New Empowering Truth:

• My voice is important, and expressing myself strengthens my relationships.

• Mistakes are how I grow, and they are not a reflection of my worth.

• I am inherently valuable, just as I am, without conditions.

Aligned Action:

• Daily Reflection: Each morning, I will say one thing I love about myself—no conditions.

• Speaking Up Practice: This week, I will express one personal opinion in a conversation without worrying about whether it’s “right.”

• Celebrating Imperfection: I will intentionally make a small, safe “mistake” (e.g., leaving a typo in a text) and remind myself that the world keeps spinning.

📌 "What emotions did I have to suppress?"

Old Belief:

• Disappointment, because I didn’t want to make things harder.

• Anger, because I was told it wasn’t necessary.

• Fear, because I believed I had to handle things on my own.

🧠 Whole-Brain Flip:
"I feel all my emotions fully. My emotions are valid. I release emotions with ease."

New Empowering Truth:

• It is safe to feel and express disappointment. My emotions guide me to what I need.

• Anger is a sign that something needs my attention. I can express it in a healthy way.

• I am supported. I do not have to do everything alone.

Aligned Action:

• Emotional Check-In: Before bed, I will ask myself, "What emotion did I honour and release today?" and write it in my journal.

• Anger Release Ritual: When I feel anger building, I will move my body—whether it’s shaking my hands out, dancing, or going for a brisk walk.

• Seeking Support: I will practice asking for help in small ways (e.g., letting someone carry a bag for me, delegating a task, sharing a frustration with a trusted person).

📌 "How did I learn to cope?"

Old Belief:

• By being the best, so no one had a reason to be disappointed.

• By staying quiet, so I didn’t make waves.

• By pushing myself harder, so I never had to feel ‘not enough.’

🧠 Whole-Brain Flip:
"I am enough exactly as I am. My worth is inherent."

New Empowering Truth:

• My value is not tied to achievement—I am worthy just by being me.

• My voice is important. Sharing my thoughts connects me with others.

• Rest and ease are just as valuable as effort. I allow myself to slow down.

Aligned Action:

• Letting Go of the ‘Best’ Mentality: I will do one task imperfectly on purpose and remind myself that it’s still valuable.

• Speaking Even When Uncomfortable: I will share my thoughts in a conversation, even if I’m unsure how they’ll be received.

• Prioritizing Rest: I will schedule intentional downtime without guilt (even if it’s just 10 minutes to breathe or stretch).

📌 "How is this showing up in my life now?"

Old Belief:

• I struggle to trust my body because I was taught not to trust myself.

• I push myself to exhaustion, believing I always need to do more.

• I second-guess my choices, afraid of getting it ‘wrong.’

🧠 Whole-Brain Flip:
"I trust my body, my intuition, and my decisions. I am exactly where I need to be."

New Empowering Truth:

• My body is wise, and I honor what it tells me.

• I do not need to exhaust myself to be worthy. Rest is productive.

• I trust my inner knowing. There is no ‘wrong’—only learning.

Aligned Action:

• Body Trust Practice: Each morning, I will place a hand on my belly or heart and say, “I trust you.”

• Setting Boundaries with Energy: I will say no to one thing that drains me this week.

• Trusting My Decisions: I will make one small decision quickly and confidently, without overanalyzing.

Mabel exhaled, closing her eyes as she sat with these new beliefs. She had spent years carrying those old narratives, bending herself into someone more pleasing, more perfect, more “right.”

But she wasn’t that little girl anymore.

She was a woman standing at a crossroads—one path leading to the same cycles of self-doubt, and the other leading somewhere unknown, somewhere lighter, freer.

Mabel’s Text to Monica:

Just finished the first journal prompt, and… whoa. That was a lot.

I didn’t expect it to hit so hard, but once I started writing, it was like this floodgate opened. I could see it so clearly—how my mom and I have been carrying the same quiet weight, how I learned to shrink myself without even realizing it. How I’ve spent my whole life believing that being easy, being agreeable, being pleasing was the safest way to be loved.

And for the first time, I don’t feel angry about it. I just see it. And now that I see it, I know I get to change it.

I did the whole-brain exercise for each, and something in me softened. It’s like my body finally got the message: I don’t have to keep proving my worth. I don’t have to grip so hard. I don’t have to earn love.

So, I’m taking the next few days to just… sit with this. To let it settle. To pay attention to the moments where this pattern still tries to run the show, and remind myself that I get to rewrite it! I have my aligned action ready to go!!

After that, I’ll start on the second journal prompt. But right now, I think my body just needs space to breathe. Thank you again for these tools - life change!

Monica: Mabel. THIS. This is the work. This is what shifting looks like. 💡✨

You didn’t just intellectualize it—you felt it. You let yourself see it without judgment. And now? You’re giving yourself the space to let it land. That’s huge.

So yes, take these next few days. Breathe. Notice. Let it settle in your body. There’s no rush—this isn’t a test (see what I did there? 😉).

Proud of you, Mabel. Keep going.

A slow clap echoed in Mabel’s mind.

"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to stop playing emotional hide-and-seek with herself."

Mabel sighed, shaking her head. "Monique, can you not?"

But this time, there was no real frustration behind it. If anything, she was… relieved. As much as Monique was a thorn in her side, she was also a lifeline—proof that she wasn’t completely lost in her own head.

"Oh, but I must," Monique quipped. "Because, babe, this? This is progress. This is you finally pulling your head out of the sand and realizing you’ve been living by a rulebook you didn’t even write."

Mabel exhaled, staring at the words she had just poured onto the page. She could still feel the weight of it all, but for the first time, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt… clarifying.

"I mean, don’t get me wrong," Monique continued, "you’ll probably still have a few moments of backsliding. Maybe a solid spiral or two. But at least now, when you do, you won’t be able to pretend you don’t know what’s happening. And that, my dear, is how real change starts. And guess what? That’s OKAY. That’s part of life. No one nails it perfectly on the first try—so don’t even bother trying."

Mabel closed her journal, letting her fingers linger on the cover. The weight of what she had uncovered still pressed against her, but for once, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt… clarifying. She knew Monique was right—about all of it. And for the first time, she wasn’t resisting what was to come.

But right now, she needed air.

She grabbed her sneakers and stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against her skin like a quiet reset. The sky stretched wide above her, the scent of damp earth filling her lungs as she took her first step forward. No podcast. No music. Just the steady rhythm of her breath, the soft crunch of gravel beneath her feet, the simple, undistracted presence of being here.

Monique’s voice stirred again, softer this time, threading through the quiet.

"That’s it, babe. A peaceful walk is where the so-called work has time to marinate."

Mabel exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, because for the first time, she felt like she was finally understanding what the word coherence meant.

We’re Doing This Together,
💚 Monica

Finding Fertility

Listen to the Finding Fertility Podcast: The Hidden Block to Fertility Success: Overcoming Suppressed Emotions During Infertility & IVF

Truth # 3: Mable's Hustle Trap: Put the To-Do List Down

Truth # 2: Overthinking, Worry & Fear: How Mabel Found Peace in Her Thoughts

Truth # 1: The Illusion of Control

Grieving Together: 10 Things Monica Sees in Mabel’s Journey That Are Causing Unnecessary Chaos

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Listen up, lovelies: Everything I share about health, diet, or fertility magic is my opinion. Yep, it’s all based on years of trial and error, study, reading, listening, and side-eyeing the nonsense out there. What worked for me might be a jackpot for you—or it might be a total flop. Bodies are weird like that. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not a doctor, nutritionist, dietitian, or any other kind of licensed health wizard. If you need medical advice, run—don’t walk—to an actual qualified professional. Don’t come back here saying Monique told you to eat kale for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, okay?

As for the products I mention, they’re either what I used during my own infertility rollercoaster or what I wish I’d known about back then. No guarantees, no promises, and absolutely no refunds on your hope budget if it doesn’t work out.

Now that we’ve cleared that up, proceed with curiosity and, above all, discernment. You’ve got this. 💪✨