When the Resilience Coach Hits a Wall
The other day, I made the choice to answer the phone. It was my best friend calling on a long drive, ready to catch up on life, vent, and connect like we always do. But I hesitated. I knew the second she heard my voice, she’d know I wasn’t okay. And honestly? I didn’t want to talk about it. Because the truth is: I’ve been drowning.
Not in a dramatic, movie-scene kind of way. In a quiet, slow, creeping kind of way. A weight on my chest. A desire to sleep more than be awake. A fog that won’t lift.
I’m a motivational speaker. A resilience coach. The person people look to for strength, tools, clarity. I teach people how to realize they’ve overcome everything they’ve overcome, reset their mindset, and move in the Bright Direction. And yet lately, I’ve felt like a hypocrite. Like I’m failing at my own message.
Shame’s a nasty companion. Especially when it partners up with depression and whispers, “You’re not enough.” That whisper has been loud lately.
I’ve been on some type of medication since my daughter died almost 20 years ago. It keeps me functioning but sometimes it feels like it also keeps me from feeling. I haven’t cried like I did today in a long, long time. I was walking the dog through the cemetery, talking to my bestie, and it all cracked open. The elephant on my chest, the one I keep pushing down so I can be “okay,” finally broke loose.
And I let it.
I cried because I’m tired. I cried because I miss my daughter. I cried because I’m afraid of who I’m not. I cried because I don’t feel like I’m measuring up to the version of me I wanted to be by now. And honestly, I cried because I don’t know how to not feel like I’m failing when I’m not producing, selling, or creating something.
Being a high-achiever has its perks. But when the well runs dry creatively, financially, energetically…it can leave you questioning your worth. Especially when your career depends on momentum, motivation, and purpose.
But here’s the thing: I do have purpose. I just forgot for a minute.
Today reminded me. That walk brought me to Caroline’s resting place, where my mom and dad also rest. And as I stood there in that special space, I remembered that I’m still here. I’ve survived every storm so far (and trust me there have been a few doozies!) I’ve been equipped for this life, even when I feel unequipped.
I also realized that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. And maybe it’s time we stop pretending like resilience means never feeling broken (by we…I mean as in me…any maybe you too.)
Resilience is knowing you’re in the thick of it and choosing to keep going anyway.
It’s crying the big tears and still packing your suitcase for the family trip of a lifetime.
It’s admitting you’re not okay and asking for help anyway. That last one is the toughest for me.
So, I’m asking you now: if you’ve been feeling the weight too…tired, stuck, ashamed, anxious, please know you are not alone. Even the people who “have it all together” hit walls. Even the motivational speakers who write the books and give the talks find themselves lost sometimes.
My best friend threw my own mindset reset exercise back at me today (gotta love her). She asked:
What’s the worst that could happen?
What’s likely to happen?
What can you do if it does?
Those three steps brought me back to something I can control: my perspective.
And while I can’t promise I’ll feel 100% tomorrow, I can promise I’ll keep showing up.
For my family.
For myself.
For the purpose party I believe in.
Because pity parties might pop up, but they don’t get to win.
So, I’m going to finish packing now. My suitcase, my gratitude list, my resilience.
Because I’ve got an adventure ahead.
And I plan to enjoy it.
If you’re heading into summer feeling heavy, overwhelmed, or stuck…girl (or boy:) I see you! My book 6 Steps in the Bright Direction isn’t a beach read, but it just might be the tool you need to reset your mindset and rediscover your spark. Grab a copy and start moving forward—even if it’s just one small step at a time.
Keep moving,
Karen