Have you ever attempted to do something that felt like such a Big Deal that rather than plunge ahead with all of your energy and enjoyment you actually avoided it for as long as possible and shoved it down to the bottom of your list? Today is that thing for me. Today is the day I officially launch my own business, my website, and this, my first ever blog post. During the time that I’ve been working on this idea, I’ve had to give myself little mini booster shots of self-confidence that usually wear off after only a few hours. I wasted an embarrassing amount of time wondering and worrying about what other people might think. But today I am finally pushing myself out of the plane and pulling the parachute cord, and I want to make sure I don’t let fear stop me from enjoying the view.

A week ago I turned 39. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be 40 years old, imagining that at 40 I would have the independence and education and career and personality and financial stability – you name it – that would give me the credibility I’ve always wanted. From kindergarten until my early 30s I often found myself the youngest person in the room. My mentor once said to me, “if you were a man I would just tell you to grow a beard and people would take you seriously.” So for me, middle age is the equivalent of finally growing my beard. But instead of finding that Holy Grail of wisdom and self assurance, I find myself living Brené Brown’s definition of the midlife unraveling:

“Midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:I’m not screwing around. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go. Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy and lovable, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever. Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through your veins. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”

Brené Brown

This definition of Brené’s stopped me in my tracks. I would love to tell you that I became a new person from that day forward and never experienced any more fear or self-doubt.

Hahahahaha.

No. It’s a process. I come back to her definition often, however, and it gives me another boost. So here I am, showing up and being seen, in spite of the fear.

There’s a lot of pressure in a first blog post- what to share? What will you care about? What will you judge me for? (It’s ok, we can’t help but judge). Most of my story can wait; it can unfold gradually through these posts, it’s not like trying to jump into the Harry Potter series at book four. All I want you to know today is this: I’m a coach. I’m here for you if you need a coach.

People associate all kinds of weird things with non-sports coaching, many of them based on unfortunate caricatures. What it boils down to is, we talk. You have something on your mind, I ask you a few questions, and we try to get you to a new perspective or understanding of what’s on your mind. You set the agenda, you are in charge. I keep your confidence. That’s it. I’ve had incredible experiences being coached, and it amazes me every time I say out loud the answers I didn’t know I knew. And watching others have those flashes of insight is my favorite part of being a coach now.

I will blog again in a few weeks. For now, I hope that if you, like me, have been standing in a (metaphorical) airplane, sweaty hand gripping the parachute cord, you will find the courage to jump. That freedom feels incredible.