I don't just offer this. I pay for it myself, again and again, because it keeps changing my life. Here are the moments I think about most.
The hour in the park
In 2020 I paid a life coach for an hour. Part of me thought it was silly. It turned out to be one of the best hours I had that year.
We ran around a park yelling, I'm free, I'm free, at the top of our lungs, and as ridiculous as that sounds, it felt liberating. It cracked something open in me. It shifted my perspective. It was worth every dollar.
The day my mind told me to cancel
In 2025 I bought four hours with a life coach. On the drive to one of those sessions, my own head tried to talk me out of going.
On the way over, I heard an endless loop of complaints: Life coaching is pointless. She's not adding any value. You don't need this. You shouldn't have paid for this... By the end of our session, I felt loved, accepted, and lighter.
If you are hearing that same voice right now about scheduling a call, I understand. I went anyway. The difference between how I walked in and how I walked out was night and day.
He didn't flinch
Right after I moved out during my divorce, I sat in my car at the yoga studio feeling like my life was over. I made myself go back inside, and I found my yoga instructor.
I poured my heart out to him. I told him how miserable I was... and I started crying while I was talking. He didn't flinch. He comforted me.
Talking with him changed everything about my day. I felt dramatically better afterward. It was a real turning point.
That is what I want to be for you: someone who doesn't flinch.
An hour and twenty-seven minutes
In the first days of my separation, a man in recovery with more than forty years sober, who used to work as a psychologist, stayed on the phone with me.
He used to be a psychologist, and we talked for an hour and twenty-seven minutes. That conversation humbled me deeply.
He was honest with me about the parts of myself I didn't want to look at. It hurt, and I needed it.
I woke up feeling reborn
The day after we decided to separate, I did not sit home alone trying to figure it all out.
I spent hours on the phone with people from Alcoholics Anonymous, including my sponsor and another man who has played a mentor-like role in my life. They talked with me at length, helping me make sense of everything that had just happened. Instead of waking up overwhelmed with sadness, I woke up feeling reborn, much like I did in early sobriety.
The sponsor who called me
When I got sober, I was not good at asking for help. My first sponsor saw that.
he told me he would call me every day. That mattered more than I realized at the time. Most sponsors expect you to call them. My first sponsor flipped it around.
He would leave short voicemails telling me he was thinking of me. It wasn't dramatic or heavy. It was consistent.
Those men and women in AA shook my hand and loved me until I could love myself.
Seen and heard
Here is what actually helps me, in my own words. It is exactly what I try to give on a call:
And what really helps me is having people I can talk to about it. People that I know understand. People who often mostly just listen, but then when they do talk, it's something that leaves me feeling really seen and heard and will often help my perspective.
I still pay coaches today, including for YouTube and for my business. And over the years, people have come to me the same way. Over the years, a lot of people going through divorce have poured their hearts out to me.
I'm willing to talk about absolutely anything.