My Body Knew

I spent over a year fighting with my body. Cravings I couldn't explain. Habits I couldn't control. For someone who had lost 60 pounds and kept it off for over a decade, this was bewildering. I tracked everything. I adjusted everything. Nothing worked.

What I didn't understand yet was that my body wasn't confused. It was trying to tell me something I wasn't ready to hear.

Here's what was happening underneath: I had spent months trying to convince myself that I wanted a career I didn't actually want. All the training, all the experts, all the influencers said the same thing: if you want to be taken seriously as a coach, work with executives. Corporate clients. The C-suite. Leadership pipelines. That's the gold standard.

So I followed along. I finished my training, logged my hours, passed my certification exam. And then — nothing. I couldn't make myself move forward. I wrote. I watched fascinating videos of sheep shearing. And I fought with my body.

Because my body knew what I hadn't admitted yet.

The moment of clarity came when a generous, well-meaning coach sat down to help me map my corporate strategy — the packages, the programs, the four gala charity events a year. Buy a table. And I felt something that I can only describe as panic rising in my chest.

That panic was information.

I finally stopped listening to the noise and listened to myself instead. What I heard was this: I want to work with women who are standing in a doorway between their old life and their new one. Women in transition — chosen or not, welcome or not. I want to be a transitional coach.

And transitions come in every size. Divorce. Retirement. Widowhood. An empty nest. A diagnosis that changes everything. But also: your youngest starting first grade and suddenly the house is quiet and you don't know what to do with yourself. Doing for years what you thought you should be doing — and waking up one day wondering what you actually want. Those count too. Every one of them.

These are the women I want to walk alongside, asking together: Who am I now? How do I let go of who I was and find the courage to walk through that door?

The moment I said that out loud, to myself, to a friend, to my husband, something released. The cravings stopped. The restlessness stopped. My body and I were friends again.

It had been waiting for me to catch up.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, because the women I most want to work with are often in a version of the same experience. A body that's changing and feels unfamiliar. An inner life that's shifting faster than the outer one can keep up. A self that's trying to tell them something — if only they could slow down enough to listen.

Maybe your body is trying to tell you something too. My body knew. And now I know, too.

If any of this resonates — if you're in a transition of your own, big or small, chosen or not — I'd love to hear about it. What is your life trying to tell you right now? And if you want to talk, I'm here. Just send me a message.