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Journal

A collection of field notes and reflections on clarity, creativity, and self-trust.

Welcome — this is a space for the thoughts, questions, and small moments that shape personal growth. I hope these reflections offer perspective, grounding, and gentle encouragement as you navigate your own path.

Many of us learn early on to become reliable—to play a role that earns approval, safety, or belonging.


For some, this shows up as the achiever. Work, productivity, and success offer structure—and often praise—making them powerful coping mechanisms.


When disappointment or emotional pain arises, the achiever instinctively reaches for the next goal, the next project, the next milestone. Over time, this pattern can bring positive reinforcement: mentors appear, opportunities open, and competence is rewarded.


But a quiet question often emerges beneath the surface: What is the cost of constant striving?


And more importantly: What happens when achievement becomes the primary way we relate to ourselves and others?


The Survival Roles We Play


Achievement is rarely the only role people adopt. Many also find themselves slipping into familiar patterns—the good girl, the doormat, the helper, the always-available one, to name a few.


These roles can offer a sense of safety. They help us avoid conflict, maintain harmony, or secure approval in uncertain environments.


Yet these strategies often come with hidden consequences. Over-accommodation and self-silencing can leave people vulnerable to burnout, resentment, or unhealthy dynamics. What once protected us can begin to limit us.


Eventually, these roles start to feel constricting. They require constant performance and vigilance. Slowly, a deeper disconnection can form—from our needs, our desires, and our authentic selves.


At this point, many people begin asking:Who am I beneath these roles?What do I actually want?


The Emotional Terrain of Change


Letting go of long-held survival roles is not simple or linear. It can bring unexpected waves of grief—for lost time, missed opportunities, or parts of the self that were never fully expressed. Anger may surface too, as awareness grows around patterns that once felt invisible.


This phase of self-discovery often unfolds in cycles: progress followed by regression, clarity followed by doubt. Patience and self-compassion are essential. Change asks us not to rush, but to stay present with what arises.


Reconnecting With the Self Beneath the Roles


As old patterns loosen their grip, something new begins to emerge. Beneath the achiever, the good girl, or the caretaker is a self far more expansive than any role.

This deeper self is not defined by performance or approval. They are curious, creative, grounded, and alive. They hold both strength and softness. They have been patiently waiting for space, attention, and permission to step forward.


Coaching can be a powerful place to explore this transition—to understand the roles that once served you, release what no longer fits, and reconnect with who you are becoming.


I work with clients in transition, supporting them in gaining clarity, confidence, and direction as they step into the next chapter of their lives.


Cartoon So, does anyone else feel like their needs aren't being met?


On the road toward our goals—especially during the lonelier stretches, the ones that feel like spiritual wilderness—a strong support system can make all the difference.


During setbacks and bad days, when doubt creeps in, one thing that has consistently helped me is intentionally nurturing a network of support.


For me, that includes close friends, mentors, mentees, coaches, therapists, healthcare providers, family and chosen family—people who see me not just for who I am, but for who I’m becoming.


They lift me up.

They listen.

They offer honest feedback with kindness when I need it.


They celebrate my wins and hold steady space when I struggle. My growth doesn’t threaten them because they’re committed to their own paths, passions, and values.


They show up—even when life gets busy. They reach out. They make an effort to understand me, to be patient, and to give me the benefit of the doubt.


When things get difficult, they lean in rather than pull away. They understand that real relationships require care, repair, and reciprocity. They know how to receive and take responsibility—and they understand that a healthy connection is a balance of giving and taking.


When you find people like this, tend to those relationships like a garden. The more intention and care you bring, the more nourishment you receive in return.


Because who we surround ourselves with matters—not just for our dreams, but for how we move through the world.


If you’re finding yourself craving stronger, more aligned support in your life, this is something I help people explore in my work. I’m a life coach based in Vancouver, and I support clients in reflecting on, strengthening, and reshaping their support systems as they grow.



spiritual wilderness

They say the heart breathes and dreams long before the mind catches up.


That’s why I love this question:


Is there something your heart is asking for, but your mind has decided isn’t a good idea?


The practical mind is good at keeping us safe. It plans, evaluates risk, and keeps us tethered to what feels familiar. But life — the most vibrant parts of it — happens in the flow. In expansion. In play, colour, and possibility.


And yet, sometimes we talk ourselves out of what we want. It’s not practical. It’s too expensive. What will people think? Who am I to ask for something so big?


When we ignore our deeper desires, life can begin to feel stagnant. Motivation fades when our days no longer align with what quietly lights us up. We settle into what’s familiar — sometimes even when it feels deeply wrong.


The truth is, change can be scary. Desire is risky. It asks something of us.

But if we’re lucky, discomfort eventually nudges us forward.


We may remember that our heart has been whispering all along — toward a slower pace, a creative practice, a different life, an open heart. And when we listen, even briefly, we can take one small, brave step.


Because the life we long for also longs for us.


“What if I fall?”“Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?” — Erin Hanson


If you’re curious about coaching, you’re welcome to learn more here.


Woman's feet on the edge of swimming pool
A quiet moment at the edge of something new.

© 2025 by anikayuzakcoaching.com

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