Part 1/3 - When your personal stuff weighs down your professional confidence
I was sat in my graduation ceremony, gown-clad, the rim of the mortar board pressing against my forehead and riling up a headache as I looked around at the buzz of the room. So many of my peers had brought their friends and family, booked dinners and hotels, and really made an event of it. Rightly so. Hours leading to days, days that led to weeks and months of intense data analysis, critical reading, and draft writing all amounted to this moment of pride.
I fumbled with the programme, looking for my name, occasionally pausing at the names of my peers and friends whom I recognised. There I was. Alphabetical order. Second name from the top.
I was happy for my friends though. It’s always so nice to see them in person after we built the foundations of our relationship through a webcam and copious amounts of caffeine. The extravert in me loves a good community, and our course certainly had that. Through student-led writing rooms and the group chats, we were a small family, becoming a village, that welcomed in one alumni year after another. I couldn’t help but think of the foundations of a literal village. Coming into barren land, one family risks it all to start new ventures. Then year upon year, more migrants, new generations, new ideas, all allowed it to grow and thrive.
It reminded me of my own history; I’m a child of the diaspora, born in the UK while my parents had migrated from Bangladesh in the 80s. At the time of my birth in the 90s, my parents moved to a small town on an Essex estuary where they were one of the first migrants of the community. I grew up knowing very few other people from non-white backgrounds. I moulded in well to a British schooling system but was living a double (sometimes triple) life. This is a story common to almost all diasporas. I somehow managed to dance between the multiple lives, never fully revealing myself to any audience, and in the performance, never really unmasking to myself either.
Navigating the coaching world felt a bit like this. Although I knew everybody was from such vast backgrounds, it felt like everybody else was more experienced, more knowledgeable, and experts in their craft. I suppose that’s one of the side effects that comes with a career change. New vocabulary, new acronyms, different laws. And the opinions! There were so many opinions on podcasts and books, and research, that if I didn’t have one, I felt like I needed one! The group chats would ping throughout the day (even on mute, I have an incessant need to remove the notifications from my phone), and the conversations were filled with such academic rigour.
Then, there was my own personal stuff. Stuff that had always existed. Stuff that I once described like carrying huge burdens in my backpack, and I can’t go anywhere without a bag (this is true both metaphorically and in real life- where else can I put my Vaseline, the emergency pen, the packet of tissues and my wallet with 7 cards that I never use but you know, just in case!).
Then again, my lovely friend taught me a coaching metaphor of a growing spiral where at one point on the lap around, we are always going to come across this backpack of ‘the stuff’ again and again, it just might take longer to get there on each round. This was somewhat warming, but why was that stuff feeling so heavy this time? I thought I had worked enough on it not to hit me so hard on each lap.
And yet sitting here in this graduation hall, fever sweats making my shirt stick to my back in the middle of January, I felt the weight of this baggage telling me that I wasn’t ready to collect this accolade yet. It told me that I didn’t deserve this day because I hadn’t put in as much work as my peers, nor did I have enough experience. And amidst all of this, I was meant to be developing my coaching business?! Is it possible to ever separate your personal stuff fully from your professional life? What are your thoughts?
You write an amazing piece. It is authentic and part of you continuing to empty the bag. Congratulations on you receiving the Masters. I have been a Coach Trainer for many years. Some of the students like you ,fully attempting to take on a new professional identity. Others, people in large companies who were very successful and yet had lost their sense of true purpose and meaning.
I do not yet know the answer but something I have been certain off for a long time is how Training in Coaching and or Psychotherapy can leave the student feeling regressed. Some people learn to speak the language eloquently and can quote all the theory…and they may not make good coaches. I think your self awareness here needs to be turned around towards Self Appreciation and ultimately Self Love. Once we truly appreciate ourselves and in this the ‘other’ we can begin to trust that our Presence to the Coachee will bring about Change and Healing for them. Our wounds then become our friends. It can be the source of empathy and compassion that a coachee will pick up without you saying a word. This will lead to Trust being built from which the best work can happen. Make sure you get support in building your practice which is like building a business. If you ever want a chat I too am based in Essex in a village called Mistley but have travelled all over the world for Coach Training. There is such a need for Coaches from your cultural background and I notice you know Taslim. Just get in touch. Anne Welsh. [email protected]
This is a really touching response and I’m grateful that you took the time out to read it. The bit that stopped me in my tracks was when you said that some coach training can leave the student feeling regressed, yet my self-awareness can become self appreciation and ultimately self-love. This is something that I find very difficult but I know it makes a difference. Your articulation of how it’s useful was truly beautiful. Thank you!
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