I believe that for us to work together effectively, we need to build trust.
When I was a therapist, I usually began by asking clients to share their insecurities.
Now in coaching, I’ve found that flipping the script works much better to gain your trust.
I’ll start by showing my vulnerability.
Here are a few of the most profound realizations I’ve had as a mother, a therapist, and a Christian.
I have many regrets about my 40s. I spent far too much time ‘doing’ — focused on my duties as a mother and building my career — without being fully present. The memories from that time feel blurred as if I lived them without truly experiencing them. By my 50s, I knew something needed to change. I began prioritizing sleep, replaced early morning workouts with quiet time for reading, journaling, and prayer, and made space for meaningful moments with loved ones.
After watching my daughter display micro-managing behaviors, I used to vent to my husband about it. His response was always the same: “I wonder where she gets that from?” It hit me one day — I hadn’t realized that the way I saw myself was very different from how others experienced me. I learned a crucial lesson: our assumptions about ourselves are often just that — assumptions.
I’ve come to see that much of our suffering is self-created. This became clear while working with a male coach who, to my surprise, didn’t notice the imperfections I thought were so obvious. I realized that the only thing standing between me and my financial success was the version of myself I kept clinging to—fueled by self-imposed fears and distractions, rather than focusing on the feeling of my desires already fulfilled.
At 56, I redefined what love means to me. I used to believe that to love someone, you had to truly know them. But St. Thomas Aquinas said something that changed my view: “To love is to will the good of another.”
This new perspective allowed me to love even those connected to the loss of my two brothers.
During a separation from my husband, I faced an uncomfortable truth: anger and resentment were tools I used to avoid confronting myself. My thoughts, judgments, and assumptions clouded my vision and allowed me to avoid taking responsibility for my actions.