Diary Confession: I suck at being a health coach.
Strong language, I know. But it’s the truth. I’m terrible at telling people what to do, and I’m even worse at convincing myself it would work if I did it.
For a long time, I chalked that up to just being “bad with people.” But in most cases, I’m not. I love people and deep conversations. Village is part of what makes me tick. While I can’t say I’m always the best with humans, I don’t think it’s why I suck at health coaching.
I think I suck at it because it feels out of integrity with who I am. I don’t think health, as we know it, is actually the source of most of our problems. And pretending it is just doesn’t work for me.
Most of the time, I couldn’t even get myself to do what I was telling you to do. And if I’m even more honest, I hadn’t been my healthiest self since before I got into the health space in the first place.
I know this is going to sound extreme, but I actually don’t believe I would have had my “health crisis” if I hadn’t decided to walk into this space. Of course there is a lot to that. It partially has to do with what psychologists call reticular activating system filtering. Or what is more commonly known as: self-fulfilling prophecy.
My work (like most in the health space) amounted to trying to solve problems while often creating more. And the fixation on problems is what led to my own demise. The majority of the messaging in the health space declared nearly “everything a problem,” which meant I was bound to get myself into the fight ring and go to war with…
Well, who exactly?
Who are we fighting in the ring in this so-called war on health?
See, that’s the thing I just couldn’t get over.
If health is a destination and your body is the villain? Who or what is the hero?
The next fad diet? The supplement stack? The biohacking tool?
If history repeats itself, as it often does because we repeat ourselves, then just as quickly as these become our heroes, they become another villain.
Where does the cycle end, except with you working so hard at being healthy only to end up unhealthy?
I know this because I lived it… and it’s always exactly what I can’t get behind.
What doesn’t align, ever, is you being a victim of your body. Because there is no winning in that equation. At least no winning for you. Of course, the multibillion (almost trillion) dollar health space wins, at your expense.
But here is what I realized, for you and for me.
Your body isn’t the villain. It’s not a problem just because you’ve called it a problem. It’s just void of you.
And that brings me to what I am good at… challenging the norm. Not because I want to be a rebel, but because I need it to make sense. And things just aren’t making sense.
What does make sense is that your body can’t be both the villain and the hero.
As long as you call it a problem, it will always be/have/create problems. Not because it wants to, but because that’s what you’re expecting it to.
And this is where my problem lies… WE HAVE TO STOP MAKING EVERYTHING A PROBLEM.
Even more, we have to stop sacrificing you from your story, handing it over to the worst parts of you to control. We have to stop allowing the shame, the trauma, the weight, the disease to run your story. To be your identity. Because that only makes you the master of your own misery.
It’s also not how it was intended to be. And it’s not how it has to go.
Now, to be clear…
I’m not discounting that we have or will have a problem. But what if the problem was never the problem? What if the problem was just information to help you?
What if it’s exactly the knowledge you need to stop repeating the same patterns that present similar problems? Because it’s rarely the problem that’s the problem. It’s the repetitive, systematic, chronic problem that we end up dramatizing, and eventually creating crappy health stories around, that actually aren’t true.
And then these crappy health stories get handed down and picked up by the next generation. Making them believe things that really aren’t true.
Tomorrow, in part two, I’ll be showcasing some crappy health stories I’m over. But for now, can we get on board with ending the need to call everything a problem?
And can you imagine, just for one second, what life could be like if said problems weren’t problems?
Can you imagine what else you could be doing with your time?
Maybe…
Sitting on the back porch sipping your favorite drink. Or, lingering in bed on a Saturday morning because nothing is chasing you. Playing with your kids instead of watching the clock. Talking with a friend about how beautiful this life actually is. Planning a trip. Redecorating a room just because. Taking a walk not because you have to, but because you want to.
What you have to know is this: Your current problem is only a problem to maintain the evidence needed to keep telling the story you’ve been telling. It’s the symptom, not the disease. It’s a signal. A sign attempting to get your attention that things don’t have to stay this way.
WHICH IS THE PLOT TWIST YOU DIDN’T KNOW YOU NEEDED.
Ready for a better story?
Let me help you (with what I’m actually good at). Learn how to edit your story, reclaim your past, and put yourself back into your story to create the future you were called to.
It’s the easiest way to change your life and also make it last. That’s the power of story work.
Join the next Freedom Story workshop to learn the framework and put it into action.
Note: Spots are limited to eight people per workshop. Your seat will be reserved on a first-come, first-served basis.
If you’re interested, apply here, and we’ll send you more details.
NOTES:
You have to attend live, either online or in person, on the day of the workshop.
You have to do the work.
Let’s start a conversation:
What’s a ‘problem’ you’ve been fighting for years that might actually just be information?
I’m leaving a few of mine in the comments… including the one where I thought my husband was my problem….
And I’d love to know some of yours.
Drop them below.
I thought my husband was a problem… until I learned he was just reflecting information about my own story back to me. I also thought my weight was a problem, until I realized my nervous system didn't have the capacity to maintain a lighter weight.