The next step on the path
As a late-diagnosed, untreated Neurospicy person , the “simple” things can be so hard.
As a transformational coach, my gifts can help literally anyone who feels “stuck” on an issue in their life. Literally. Anyone. As long as they are willing to go on the journey with me.
That’s awesome, right?
When every transformational coach can help every person with every problem our messages, collectively, sound like noise to people who are looking for very specific help with their very specific problem.
I’ll show you. Imagine that you need a new … vacuum cleaner.
You walk into Vacs-R-Us. Wall-to-wall vacuums. Every shape, color, speed, size, and strength ever made. Thousands of vacuums. Cool, you need one of these. However, they all say the same thing on the box “Good for every home”. Wait. What?
You know better, right? Surely some are lighter weightand some are heavyweights . Some have attachments you’d find useful and some have attachments you’d never need. There *are* differences between them but because the boxes don’t tell you how they are different you’re more likely to walk away with no vacuum at all than to just pick one at random hoping it’s good for *your* home. Or worse, you could spend days sorting through every box in the store comparing each model with the next because the company that actually made the product couldn’t simply describe it on the box for everyone to see.
That’s why every single business coach worth their salt offers the exact same advice on day one – Pick Your Niche.
In other words, know exactly what your brand is good at and print it on the box so everyone can see it.
Unless you have untreated ADHD…
Don’t get me wrong. Picking my niche has been really easy for me.
Sticking with that niche for more than a week? Not so easy.
For example, I’ve been passionate about pregnancy and helping women find their birthing power for over 20 years but I haven’t kept up with the subject since 2005 and I haven’t actually been pregnant since 1998, so while I thought empowered childbirth could be my “forever thing”, it honestly doesn’t feel like a solid choice for me anymore.
Then, when my mother was in Hospice in 2021, I wanted to serve the dying and their loved ones but it turned out that my sister was far better at it than I was. So while I can serve that niche, it’s not really *me* either.
I can sing , but I never figured out how to translate that into a transformation I could offer to others.
It turns out that what I’m really good at is… being indecisive. Yay.
What I’m really good at is being neurodivergent.
What I’m really good at is knowing exactly what it’s like to feel unsupported, inadequate, unable to do “simple” things that others seem able to do without a problem.
I know how to go to bed at night and spend restless hours picking apart my day, my behavior, my looks, my decisions. I know how to hate myself for who I am. Day after day. Night after night.
I know how to wake up, exhausted, again, and dread the coming day because nothing was going to change.
I know how to self-medicate because I need to numb the pain of daily life. I know how to lie to myself about my addictions and ignore the harm they’re doing to my body and my relationships.
I know how to want to sleep forever. I got really good at that after Faerin died. It was so hard to want anything else back then. Just … peace. Forever.
I know all of that, but now I know other things too.
I know how my mind works and how to change my thoughts. I know how to focus on the solutions instead of the problems.
I know how to explore my fears and break them down instead of letting them control me.
I know how to have faith. In myself, in the universe, in other people, in our collective future.
I know how to get sober and stay sober, even when things get challenging.
I know how to lay down at night and bask in the glory of positive thoughts and feelings. I know how to ask for dreams that bring me more clarity and insight into myself and the people I am working with.
I know how to wake up feeling refreshed, energized, and ready to do what needs to be done (even if I don’t always like to do it).
I know how to find joy in a job that has sucked the joy out of every other person in the building.
I know when that job is going to suck the joy out of me and I know how to walk away in faith, with my joy intact.
I know I can serve as a coach for others who are neurodivergent and struggling to not just manage their symptoms, but to see themselves as the incredible gift they are to the world.
Not merely neurodivergent, but fundamentally, brilliantly neurodivine.
I’m still working on creating an engaging, informative, dynamic box for my “vacuum cleaner” that helps people understand exactly what I do and how I can help them.
But I’m getting closer…