Bio

A reformed pessimist. A city kid who loves the forest. A queer, multidisciplinary artist who can be moved to tears by almost anything, from full-body laughing to seeing a kind interaction between strangers, from cats and dogs loving their people to that moment when you’re singing with a friend and you accidentally harmonize. I’m a Cancer (though that was perhaps obvious).

Most of all, I'm someone who is curious about people. Why do we do the things we do? Especially the things that hurt us. 

I spent over 25 years as a mental health consumer, trying to understand why I was doing what I was doing when I was clearly trying to evaporate. 

And I was shamed by psychiatrists, therapists, doctors, and even my community. Why were they also doing things that were hurting me?

The shame made me hide. Hide who I was. Hide the pain. And hide my mental health diagnosis at all costs. 

It wasn't until 2017, when I wrote a very honest and vulnerable piece about my mental health journey that something shifted in me. Friends and strangers reached out to thank me for sharing. They'd shown the article to their families and got their communities to listen. No one seemed to think I was the monster I was convinced I was. Or maybe, that I'd been convinced I was. 

And so I kept sharing. And listening. 

Whether leading peer support groups, working with families of folks who struggle with emotional regulation, or in counselling training, I shared and listened to stories of guilt, grief, joy, loss, elation and recovery. Basically, to stories of what it means to be human. 

Thank you to all those who've trusted me with their tender hearts, to those who haven't, to those who are considering it, and to those who aren't. 

This work has been the greatest honour of my career. Probably of my life. 

Merci infiniment,

Erica

P.S. You can read about my education here.