Why I Don't Use the Term 'Life Coach'

People sometimes ask what I do, and when I explain it, they say: "Oh, so you're a life coach?"

I understand why they reach for that term. It's familiar. It gives them a mental box to put the work in. But I've never used it to describe myself, and I don't think I ever will.

The word "coach" carries something I don't want to bring into this space.

The Aggression of Coaching

Think about where coaching comes from. Sports. Competition. There's an inherent aggression baked into the concept—a coach pushes you harder, demands more, drives you toward victory over an opponent.

That energy has its place. But it's not what I'm offering.

The work I do isn't about winning. It's not about beating anyone—including yourself. It's about coming home. About settling into who you already are, not striving to become someone you think you should be.

Who's Calling the Plays?

A coach, by definition, is the one with the playbook. They see the field from above. They know the strategy. They tell you where to go and what to do.

That's not my relationship with the people I work with.

I don't believe I know better than you about your life. I don't have a playbook for your path. What I believe is this: you already know what you want and what you don't want. Maybe you've lost touch with that knowing. Maybe it's buried under years of other people's expectations, or your own self-doubt. But it's there.

The Reflection Pool

If you haven't clarified that knowing within yourself yet, I believe you still have access to something profound: a still presence within you. Think of it as a reflection pool.

Your experiences, your feelings, your values—these aren't things I can define for you. But I can help you bring them to the surface and hold them up to that still water within. When you reflect on what you're carrying, you begin to see more clearly. You refine your self-knowing. Not because I told you what to see, but because you finally got quiet enough to look.

What I Actually Do

I sit with you. I ask questions. I hold space for whatever arises. I reflect back what I notice, not as truth, but as an offering.

Sometimes I'll share a framework or a perspective that's helped me or others. Sometimes I'll challenge you—gently—when I sense you're hiding from something. But I'm never here to run your life or call your plays.

You are the expert on you. My role is to help you remember that.

Words Matter

The language we use shapes the container we create. When I avoid the word "coach," I'm making a choice about the kind of relationship I want to have with the people I work with. One without hierarchy. Without aggression. Without the assumption that I know something you don't.

If you're looking for someone to push you, drill you, and hand you a winning strategy—I'm probably not your person. But if you're ready to sit with yourself, to look into that reflection pool, and to trust what you find there—let's talk.