Life coach. Ugh, just typing that makes me cringe a little, like I’m admitting I needed someone to hold my hand through adulting. Sitting here in my cramped Boston apartment, the radiator hissing like it’s judging me, I’m thinking back to last spring when I was a hot mess. I’d just bombed a job interview—spilled coffee on my shirt mid-Zoom, forgot my own resume points, the works. My confidence was in the gutter, and my friend Jenna, who’s all about “manifesting your truth,” kept yammering about this life coach she swore by. So, yeah, I caved and booked a session, half-expecting some guru in a flowy scarf to tell me to “find my inner light.”
Spoiler: It wasn’t like that. My life coach, Sarah, was this no-nonsense woman who Zoomed in from her own messy home office—dog barking in the background, same as mine. She didn’t hand me a vision board or chant affirmations. Instead, she asked me point-blank: “What’s the one thing you’re most embarrassed about right now?” I froze, my cheap IKEA chair creaking under me, and blurted out how I felt like a fraud at work. That raw honesty? It was terrifying but freeing, like accidentally ripping a Band-Aid off in public.
What a Life Coach Actually Does (From My POV)
So, what does a life coach really do? Based on my sessions—and I only did three before I ran out of cash—they’re like a mix of a therapist, a tough-love friend, and that one teacher who believed in you but also called you out. Here’s my take:
- They listen (like, really listen): Sarah didn’t just nod and smile. She caught every dumb thing I said and made me unpack it. Like when I rambled about hating my job but being too scared to quit—she zeroed in on the “scared” part and pushed me to define it.
- They ask hard questions: I’m talking stuff like, “Why do you keep saying ‘sorry’ when you’re not wrong?” or “What’s stopping you from just trying?” It’s annoying but forces you to face your own BS.
- They help you set goals (without the fluff): No “visualize success” nonsense. Sarah had me write down one thing I could do that week to feel less stuck. For me, it was updating my LinkedIn, which felt so small but was a big deal.
I found some solid info on what life coaches do from the International Coaching Federation, which breaks down how they focus on goal-setting and accountability, not just warm fuzzies. It’s not therapy—more like a structured nudge to get your life together.
Why Life Coaching Felt Weirdly Personal
Here’s where I get a little embarrassed. In our second session, I admitted I was jealous of my coworker who always seemed so put-together. Sarah didn’t judge; she just asked, “What’s one thing she does that you could try?” I mumbled something about her confidence in meetings, and Sarah gave me this tiny homework: practice one sentence I’d say in my next team call. I did it, stammering like an idiot, but nobody laughed. That tiny win? It felt huge, like I’d cracked open a door I didn’t know was there.
Do You Actually Need a Life Coach?
Okay, real talk: Do you need a life coach? I’m still not sure, and I’m writing this with my dog snoring on my lap, which is honestly more grounding than any coaching session. Life coaching isn’t cheap—mine was $100 a pop, and I’m still eating ramen some nights. But here’s when I think it’s worth it:
- You’re stuck in a rut: If you’re spinning your wheels—like I was, refreshing job boards but too scared to apply—a life coach can give you a push.
- You want accountability: I’m the queen of procrastination. Having Sarah check in on my tiny goals made me actually do them.
- You’re not ready for therapy: Therapy’s great (I’ve done it), but it’s heavier. Life coaching felt lighter, like a workout for my brain.
The Forbes article on life coaching nails it: it’s about clarity and action, not fixing deep trauma. But if you’re expecting a miracle worker to solve your life? Nah, that’s on you.
My Big Life Coach Mistake
Here’s where I fumbled. I thought life coaching would just fix me, like downloading a new app for my brain. I got frustrated when Sarah didn’t give me a step-by-step life plan. One session, I straight-up sulked on Zoom, my laptop balanced on a pile of laundry, because I wanted her to tell me what to do. She didn’t. Instead, she said, “You’re waiting for permission to try. Why?” That hit me like a brick. I was mad, but she was right—I was dodging my own decisions.
Tips If You’re Thinking About a Life Coach
From my own trial-and-error, here’s what I’d tell you about diving into life coaching:
- Be ready to get real: You gotta spill your guts a little. It’s not about faking it till you make it—it’s about admitting where you’re at.
- Set a budget: I didn’t, and my bank account cried. Check out BetterUp’s pricing guide for a sense of costs.
- Don’t expect a guru: Your life coach isn’t Yoda. They’re just a person helping you sort your own mess.
My Surprising Takeaway from Life Coaching
The biggest shock? Life coaching didn’t “fix” me, but it made me okay with being a work in progress. I’m still in this noisy Boston apartment, with my dog farting in his sleep and my inbox a disaster, but I’ve got a little more guts to try stuff. Like, I applied for a new job last week. Got rejected, but I didn’t spiral. Progress, right?
Wrapping Up This Life Coach Chat
So, what does a life coach do? They’re like a mirror that talks back, showing you your own mess but also your potential. Do you need one? Maybe, if you’re stuck and need a nudge, like I did. I’m not sold on it being life-changing, but it gave me a few tools to stop tripping over myself. If you’re curious, try a session—worst case, you’ll have a story to tell. Got thoughts on life coaching? Hit me up in the comments or whatever—I’m just chilling with my coffee and my chaos.
