MysticMag had the opportunity to chat with Nancy Colier, a psychotherapist, interfaith minister, and author specializing in women’s empowerment, well-being, and mindful technology. A longtime student of Eastern spirituality, she has been featured in The New York Times, Good Morning America, and Psychology Today. Her latest book, The Emotionally Exhausted Woman (2022), explores why women feel depleted and how to reclaim their needs. A former top-ranked equestrian for 25 years, Nancy now applies her expertise as a performance consultant, guiding professional athletes and artists to enhance their skills and mindset.
In your book “The Emotionally Exhausted Woman,” you address the pervasive issue of women feeling depleted. What societal factors do you believe contribute most significantly to this emotional exhaustion, and how can women begin to counteract these pressures?
From the very beginning, women are conditioned to believe that their worth is tied to caretaking. We are taught that being “good” means taking care of others, and this belief becomes deeply embedded in our wiring. It’s why we’re praised, why we’re valued, and ultimately, why we’re loved. And while we have made enormous strides in empowering young women, there is still an underlying, unspoken script that governs so much of our behavior: I must be likeable. I must be pleasing on some level.
Then comes the cultural conditioning—the messages about what is considered likeable, what is desirable, what will keep us safe from judgment. At its core, this is about survival. It’s Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: just above food and water is safety. From a young age, we are taught that if we take care of others, if we are selfless, we will be safe. And not just safe—we will be happy, we will be accepted, we will belong. We won’t be left behind the herd, to perish. But this creates a relentless treadmill for women—an exhausting, never-ending cycle of giving and taking care of other people’s needs, often, at the expense of our own.
Because of this early messaging, we struggle to receive and have difficulty honoring and even knowing our own wants and needs. They’ve been off the table so long and maybe never on the table. And so, we get trapped in a gilded cage where we are liked, wanted, and pleasing—but we do not get what we truly need. There is no space for our own nourishment. We don’t feel free to step off the treadmill and say, What about me? What about my life? And if we do, the response is often swift: Well, don’t make it all about you.
One of the most important things I teach women is this: Why can’t it be about you too? The exhaustion we feel comes from the endless cycle of giving while remaining selfless—of turning away from our own wants, needs, and authenticity. I don’t want women to have to live five decades before realizing that they matter too, and that their sense of value has been built entirely on what they give to others. I don’t want women to have to wait until it all falls apart and they’re entirely burnt out. Sooner or later, the unmet needs start screaming for attention but I want us to listen to those needs before they start screaming.
This is just a small piece of the enormous, complex reality of why women are so depleted. The expectations placed on us—by ourselves and by society—force us into a narrow, acceptable box. Yes, that box is expanding, but at its core, it still does not leave enough space for our truth. It still demands that we manage ourselves—our bodies, our appearance, our personalities—in order to control how others perceive us. And when we are constantly managing perception, we are blocked from the nourishment we need—spiritually, emotionally, physically. All of it.
As a psychotherapist and longtime student of Eastern spirituality, how do you integrate mindfulness and spiritual practices into your therapeutic approach, especially when working with clients experiencing anxiety and obsessive thinking?
Mindfulness is at the core of everything I do and teach. It’s the topic of my book “Can’t Stop Thinking.” At its simplest, mindfulness means being able to see what our mind is up to…and not being fully identified with or consumed by whatever thought or feeling is appearing in that moment, whether it’s anxiety or anything else. We’re raised in a culture that teaches us to believe we are our thoughts, but mindfulness offers a different perspective—it allows us to step back and recognize, Oh, look, thoughts are arising, anxiety is arising, to see it all unfolding but without having to be it. That awareness creates a kind of safe shore from which we can observe and work with our inner experience and our mind’s chaos.
Think of mindfulness as the ability to bring curiosity, compassion, and kindness to what is happening within us. When we have that skill then we can regain a sense of choice in our life. Without awareness of what’s happening inside our mind, we are simply in the anxiety, completely entangled in it. And in a time when anxiety is rampant, that entanglement can feel overwhelming. But with mindfulness in our tool kit, we create just enough space to see our thoughts clearly. Instead of being dragged around by them we can meet them with a gentle, loving awareness—and in doing so, we can begin to transform them.
At its core, mindfulness is about gaining perspective on our own experience. It invites us to approach our thoughts and feelings with curiosity and compassion, recognizing both the catastrophe and the miracle of being human. And when we cultivate even a little bit of that separation, we open ourselves up to a world of choice, to freedom, to something beyond simply being at the mercy of our monkey mind.
Your work often explores the impact of technology on mental well-being. In what ways do you see our digital lives contributing to emotional exhaustion, and what strategies do you recommend for establishing a healthier relationship with technology?
Technology is undeniably useful—it allows us to sit in entirely different cities and still have this conversation. But at the same time, it has placed us on a relentless treadmill, hijacking our attention in ways that leave us overstimulated, distracted, unable to focus or settle down, and disconnected from the present moment. Our minds, under the influence of constant digital engagement, are like high-speed pinballs, bouncing from one thing to the next—vacation ideas, social media updates, podcasts, messages, more information, more stimulation and ultimately more desperate for content and distraction.
As a result, our nervous systems are in a state of perpetual overdrive, amped up to code red.. The constant influx of information floods us with cortisol and stress hormones, keeping us in a chronic state of anxiety. We rarely, if ever, turn off. We move so rapidly from one point of attention to the next that we have forgotten how to simply be still be quiet, just be. We are trained, like heat-seeking missiles, to seek out the next source of entertainment and stimulation; we’ll do anything to not be where we are and not join the present moment. Living this way, with our attention constantly bouncing from thing to thing, around the clock, is exhausting, draining our adrenal reserves, and keeping us in a state of high anxiety.
But here’s the truth: how we live with technology is our choice, which is why I wrote my book “The Power of Off.” Many people resign themselves to the idea that “this is just how things are now.” But that’s not true—we have far more control than we realize. Yes, we need to engage with technology for work, for communication, for daily tasks. Yes, the world is becoming increasingly automated. But we do have the power to set boundaries around how technology integrates into our lives.
For instance, one of the simplest but most powerful shifts we can make is reclaiming our mornings. Instead of waking up and immediately reaching for a phone, which instantly dictates the direction of our attention for the rest of the day, we can take the first 30 minutes—an hour, even—to enter the day on our own terms. Imagine waking up and, instead of diving into notifications, asking yourself: What do I want to bring to the world today? What do I want to receive? How can I grow in some way today, or step out of my comfort zone? What am I grateful for? These kinds of questions orient us toward meaning rather than mindless consumption of entertainment. Set up your day to matter, rather than just grabbing the phone and spending the day down the rabbit hole of distraction.
The same is true for the end of the day. We don’t have to fall asleep bathed in blue light. We don’t have to let the last moments of our day be dictated by an algorithm designed to keep us engaged rather than fulfilled. Instead, we can create intentional bookends to our day—a morning practice that grounds us, an evening practice that allows us to unwind and take stock of the meaning of the day.
We also have choices in how we engage with people. When we are with loved ones, we can choose to be with them—fully present, fully engaged—to put our phone away. We can set boundaries, like keeping phones away during meals or making certain spaces, like the bedroom, technology-free. We can remind each other, Let’s be here together.
Even in small, everyday moments, we can reclaim our attention. Take a walk without your phone. Go to the store without checking notifications. Drink a cup of tea and actually experience it—the warmth, the aroma, the taste—without distraction. The more we practice inhabiting our own lives without the constant pull of digital stimulation, the more we reconnect with ourselves.
Technology companies are not invested in our well-being; they are invested in capturing our attention. Our attention translates to dollars. There is an entire industry dedicated to keeping us hooked—addiction specialists working not to help us break free, but to make digital platforms irresistible. The competition now isn’t for money or resources; it’s for our attention. And every time we reflexively reach for our devices, we are giving it away.
But we are not powerless. We are not automatons. We still have free will, and we still have choices. We can choose to set limits—taking breaks, stepping away, resisting the addictive loops of passive scrolling. We can choose to engage in real, tangible experiences—learning a skill, cultivating a hobby, doing something that stretches our human character. Because at the end of a day spent endlessly consuming digital content, we often feel undernourished, like we’ve been snacking on empty calories rather than truly feeding our minds and souls.
So make small changes—micro-decisions that add up to something powerful. Take breaks. Step outside. Move your body. Do things that pull you out of your head and into the richness of life itself. Remember, your body is more than just a vehicle to transport your mind—it is the direct portal to experiencing the miracle of being alive. Don’t let technology rob you of that.
Having been a nationally top-ranked equestrian for 25 years, how has your experience in competitive sports influenced your perspectives on performance, mindfulness, and the importance of mental health in high-pressure environments?
Achieving at a very high level gave me a profound reverence for hard work. It’s the opposite of how many people live today, where the easy route and instant gratification are often prioritized. For me, achieving excellence has shaped everything I do because I know firsthand that humans are capable of doing hard things. I’ve experienced the rewards of perseverance—it changes how you see yourself. It builds real confidence, not the kind that comes from wearing the right brand or keeping up appearances, but the kind that comes from putting in the time, effort, and dedication.
My long history with horses gave me a deep confidence and a reverence for the human spirit’s ability to face challenges. I truly believe in our capacity to rise to difficult moments, but I also see how often people today slip into what’s easiest and most convenient. That doesn’t nourish us—it doesn’t make us stronger. When I look around and see how much we’ve come to value convenience over effort, I feel a real sadness.
I know we’re capable of great things, but we have to be willing to work for them. We need to be thoughtful, to spend time with things, to commit to mastery rather than shortcuts. That process—the struggle, the effort, the dedication—is what delivers the real gold.
You serve as a performance consultant to professional athletes and artists. What common psychological challenges do these individuals face, and how do you apply your expertise in mindfulness and psychotherapy to help them achieve optimal performance?
When people come to me, it’s often after they’ve done all the work—they’ve trained, they’ve prepared—but something inside them is sabotaging their success. When it’s time to perform, they’re holding themselves back, not allowing their full potential to be realized. The root cause of this can be infinite, but my work always begins with mindfulness—becoming aware of what’s in the way. What narratives are running in the background? What beliefs or ideas about winning, success, or self-worth are shaping their experience?
Once we identify those limiting beliefs, we need diligence and discipline to challenge them. Many of these narratives started out as protective mechanisms or habits, but they’re no longer serving a useful purpose. I teach athletes and performers how to say no to these old stories so they can evolve their self-concept. First, we acknowledge where these beliefs came from—with kindness, not judgment. We recognize that they were either intended to help or were simply repeated scripts from the past. Then, we create enough space to rewrite the narrative—one that includes success, trust, and possibility.
A key shift for high-level performers is understanding that there’s a point where you’ve learned all the skills, and when it’s time to perform, you must let go of the thinking mind. True brilliance doesn’t come from micromanaging every movement in real time—it comes from trusting the wisdom of the body, the muscle memory, the deep knowing you’ve built through practice. Too often, athletes and performers try to control everything in the moment, but that actually gets in the way of their highest potential.
Instead, the goal is to drop the mind’s interference and surrender to the flow. Once the work has been done, it’s about stepping into the present moment fully—letting go of the stories about what might happen, what has happened before, or how others will judge the performance. Whether it’s hitting a ball, delivering a line on stage, or stepping into the ring, the focus needs to be on this moment, this movement, this breath.
Most people grasp this concept quickly, especially when they experience the power of releasing old stories. The moment they stop telling themselves, I can’t do this or I’m not the winner, they become free to step into what is actually happening. When we’re caught in a narrative—whether about the past, the future, or an old criticism from a coach or parent—we’re not fully present. But when we let go and allow the moment to unfold without attachment, something remarkable happens.
That’s where the flow state emerges—that space where performance feels effortless, where something beyond the thinking mind takes over. But reaching that state requires trust. At first, we have to “fake it until we make it,” giving ourselves small moments of surrender, little glimpses of what’s possible. Over time, those glimpses become something we can lean into, and we start to realize that excellence isn’t about control—it’s about allowing.
If you would like to find out more about Nancy Colier, please visit https://nancycolier.com/
