Once upon a time, the only “Coach” you knew was Hulga—the terrifying gym teacher with a whistle around her neck and a voice that could peel paint. She could get you to climb a 30-foot rope without a safety net, blistering your hands and scaring your soul. Hulga didn’t “empower” you—she yelled at you – took away your rights, said NO TALKING until you moved in fear.
Now? Oh, honey, the coaching industry has multiplied like bunnies on a high-protein diet. Coaches are everywhere. Life coach, business coach, relationship coach, pelvic floor coaches – yes, that’s a thing, (if you have questions, we have one as a staff writer.) We’ve got dog whisperers: they were called trainers back in my day. At this rate, I’m waiting for the first official fish coach to emerge: “Is your guppy sad? Let me help him visualize a happier bowl.”
I’m not throwing shade at coaches entirely. I guess I’m technically one, as a grief and bereavement counselor. But “coach” still makes my old-school brain flash back to a whistle, short shorts, and the smell of a sweaty gym. The truth is that coaches now range from the practical to the bizarre. Some call you up and tell you to get dressed and move—which, correct me if I’m wrong, is what our parents used to do before we replaced them with iPads and Siri.
Here’s the thing—modern life is so disconnected that I do get why people hire coaches. We’re all staring at screens instead of each other. We’ve stopped showing up at each other’s doors with casseroles and unsolicited advice. That’s why I love our little Lake community with the LKN Sisterhood and Brotherhood nights—it’s proof we can still gather, laugh, and look each other in the eye.
Yes, hire a coach if you need one. Some are brilliant, educated, and genuinely know how to help you get unstuck. But before you book your Tree Whisperer or Fish Happiness Consultant, try something radical—call a friend. Check in on each other. Be someone’s pep talk for free.
Because at this point, there’s a coach for everything: Sleep Coach, Breakup Coach, Closet Decluttering Coach, Gluten-Free Lifestyle Coach, and my personal favorite—The “Get Off Your Phone and Pay Attention to Who’s Right Beside You.” Coach. I think we know a few people who need one of these.
In the end, life isn’t about how many coaches you can collect; it’s about who’s in your boat when the water gets rough. And trust me, I’ve been One Paddle Short for years… but I’m still rowing. Just don’t yell at me like Hulga—I’ll get there in my own time, usually when the sun gets warm.
Monica Lucia is the Author of The Final Chapter and a passionate advocate for those navigating grief and loss. She is the Founder of Widow’s Den and Sisterhood of LKN, dedicated to supporting families In addition to her writing and community-building work, Monica is the Grief and Bereavement Counselor at Raymer-Kepner Funeral Home, Huntersville and Denver.
