When an unexpected experience in life broke me 21 years ago, business scooped me up, put me on my feet, and put bandages on my wounds, then masked those wounds with business success and affirmation.
Love left me, and my brand new business was there to love me, and now I am the one divorcing and divesting.
They say that by the time a woman divorces a man, sheās been done a while. Iām not leaving my husband, but I know I am leaving my ābusiness coachā identity, which has been a scrambly internal mess.
I felt it last night when, from bed, looking at my phone, I saw this rage bait thread about the pay differences per hour between a therapist, a life coach, and a business coach. I dove off the high dive straight into the comment section, knowing full well the fire and lack of nuance that would be there. I found myself scurrying to my office, opening my website editor, and making sure the about me page on my website laid out the bullet point list of all the reasons I am paid extremely well.
Really, I was in the energy of white-knuckling the income business coaching has provided me over the last few years while waving my peacock feathers of having therapeutic and trauma-informed education and skills to boot. āIām not one of those coaches. " Pick me, pick me. Iām enough.ā
There wasnāt much to edit because Iāve had those moments previously, and this morning when I sat down in my creative space, that editing window was still open.
I know better than to start my day by thinking, so skincare, makeup, coffee, journaling, and breathwork brought me back to my core self. As I reminded myself to soften my search outside of myself and listen within, my body began to regulate and open up to the magic of the day.
A LinkedIn notification led me to a post by
and that led me to Rick Rubinās book āThe Creative Act.ā I promptly listened to the Audible sample of the book, and in my ears was this quote:The object isn't to make art, it's to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable.
Robert Henri
Pause for metabolizing effect.
A deep breath in. . . and, once again, life helps me REMEMBER who I am. Not that I have a predetermined fate ordained by some bearded man in heaven, but that I am nature and stardust and that I canāt not do the things that my being sprouts me to do, and at one time that was get my REALTORās license and become a business coach and build build build, but now it is to divest from business coaching and that identity and create in the ways Iām called to create (including run-on sentences).
I am living a creative, run-on life, except Iām done running as it is hard on my joints. I amble these days, and this metaphor extends perfectly into this moment.
Of course, I have parts that are afraid of all the things:
Will there be enough money to pay for healthcare and supplements, and glasses, and retirement, and my makeup and skincare indulgences - why does it cost me so much to live? I donāt even have a new car or fancy clothes.
AM I anyone if Iām not associated with earning money? Whatās funny is that before my divorce, that was never a concern or desire, but my choices then helped me give myself something I didnāt know I needed, and yes, I accidentally built my identity, enoughness, and validity through work.
People make fun of life coaches.
Dangit, me and all my attachment issues and my sticky nervous system.
All the āwhat nextā and āhow toā questions come in. Shouldnāt I just burn everything down and start freshāerase 17 years of content and start with a fresh slab (such an ADHD thing to do)? Or do I just start speaking a different language in the old homes Iāve built.
And then I breathe again. Allowing space for all those parts and their valid concerns to be expressed and witnessed.
And then. . .
Nothing. Do nothing - not out of weakness but out of trust. Startdust and nature and my creativity are actually pretty fucking trustworthy and always bloom at just the right moment.
And at this moment, my parts have parted, Iāve shared with you, and Iāve been invited to go have lunch with my Bonus daughter, Samantha, and my 7 month-old granddaughter, and that is what I am going to do.