I didn't set out to do any of this.
I wanted to be a buyer in retail because I wanted to shop for a living. The first real door into branding and marketing was a family business — construction, laminates — and I thought, ok, why not. They were taking a chance on me too.
Eighteen years followed. Nespresso, Aesop, Tupperware, a food tech startup. I loved the creativity and the particular anxiety of not knowing whether what you'd poured yourself into would land. One boss taught me something I'm still learning: when I came to him ranting, he'd drop one sentence that turned me back toward my own answer. Trust yourself, he'd say. I said I didn't even trust myself. He said he did, and that was enough.
The startup was where it unravelled. On a trip, during a Bible study on Joshua, something settled in me I couldn't argue with: I had to quit, trusting God would provide. I'd let my whole identity get tied to my work. I handed in my notice. The day after I resigned, they started laying my team off.
A relative who'd burned out from banking had certified as a Co-Active coach. I told her I had no idea what to do. She said: go for the first course, just to get some clarity.
Because she said go, I went. And fell in love with it. Got certified.
An early picture I had of the work: me as a coach with money guns at the end of every year. How wrong. How gross that picture is to me now.
What's different now is quieter. I can watch what's happening before I get pulled into it. I don't need to fix people — knowing that how someone else feels is not mine to fix has freed me. In conversations, I'm not trying to prove anything.