
I have often wondered what truly makes someone a good coach.
Is it the number of certifications we collect? The years of experience we bring into a conversation? The number of clients we have coached? Or the success stories we proudly share?
Over the years, I have come to believe that the real journey of a coach begins when we stop trying to prove how much we know and start becoming genuinely curious about the person sitting across from us.
And that is not always easy.
As professionals, many of us have spent years being rewarded for having answers. We have built careers around solving problems, making decisions and offering solutions. Then we enter the world of coaching, where one of the most important things we must learn is to resist the temptation to provide an answer.
Instead, we learn to ask a question.
And sometimes, we learn to simply remain silent.
The moments nobody talks about
We often celebrate coaching breakthroughs. The leader who finds the courage to make a difficult decision. The entrepreneur who finally recognises what has been holding them back. The professional who discovers a new direction in life.
These are wonderful moments. They remind us why we chose this profession.
But what about the sessions where nothing extraordinary happens?
The client returns with the same challenge. The conversation seems to go in circles. The breakthrough we were hoping for simply doesn’t arrive.
I believe these moments are equally important in a coach’s journey.
Human transformation does not follow a project timeline. Awareness cannot be forced, and growth rarely happens in a straight line.
Sometimes, a question we ask today may find its answer in our client’s mind several weeks later.
Our responsibility is not to manufacture breakthroughs. It is to create an environment where people feel safe enough to discover their own answers.
That requires patience. And a great deal of humility.
The coach is also a work in progress
There is another side to coaching that we don’t discuss often enough.
Who coaches the coach?
We spend hours listening to other people’s challenges, aspirations, fears and dilemmas. We encourage them to examine their beliefs, challenge assumptions and explore possibilities.
But how often do we extend the same curiosity to ourselves?
Are we still questioning our own beliefs?
Are we open to feedback?
Do we recognise when our personal experiences begin influencing the questions we ask?
Have we become so comfortable being the coach that we have forgotten what it feels like to be the learner?
I have always believed that the day we assume we have mastered the art of coaching is the day we risk limiting our own growth.
Every client brings us an opportunity to learn something about human behaviour. Sometimes, they also reveal something about ourselves.
Perhaps it is our impatience. Our tendency to jump to conclusions. Our desire to rescue someone from discomfort. Or our unconscious need to feel useful.
Recognising these tendencies is not a weakness. It is part of becoming a more aware practitioner.
Your presence matters more than your performance
One of the most valuable lessons in coaching is that we do not need to be impressive in every conversation.
We do not need to ask a spectacular question every five minutes.
We do not need to fill every silence with wisdom.
Sometimes, the most meaningful contribution we make is giving someone our complete attention in a world where everyone seems to be in a hurry.
Think about the last time someone listened to you without interrupting, judging or preparing their response.
How did that feel?
That is the kind of space we have the opportunity to create for our clients.
A space where they do not have to pretend to have everything figured out.
A space where uncertainty is acceptable.
A space where they can hear their own thoughts clearly, perhaps for the first time in a long while.
And that is a privilege we should never take lightly.
Don’t forget the person behind the coach
Coaching is deeply rewarding, but it can also demand considerable emotional energy.
We encourage our clients to establish boundaries, prioritise their well-being and create balance in their lives.
Yet, as coaches, we sometimes forget to practise what we encourage.
We take another session when we are already exhausted. We neglect our own reflection. We postpone our learning. We become so invested in supporting others that our personal growth quietly takes a back seat.
I often remind myself that being committed to others does not mean being unavailable to myself.
A coach needs moments of silence that are not part of a coaching session.
Conversations where they are not expected to guide anyone.
Opportunities to learn, reflect, make mistakes and simply be human.
We cannot expect to remain curious about others if we have stopped being curious about our own lives.
A reflection for every coach this week
Before you begin your next coaching session, I invite you to spend a few minutes with three questions.
Am I entering this conversation to demonstrate my expertise, or am I genuinely interested in discovering my client’s potential?
What did my last coaching conversation teach me about myself?
What am I doing this week to invest in my own development as a coach and as a human being?
You don’t need to share the answers with anyone.
Just be honest with yourself.
Because reflection is not something we should reserve for our clients. It is a discipline we must cultivate within ourselves.
One conversation at a time
In a world obsessed with numbers, visibility and scale, it is easy to measure our coaching journey by how many people we have reached.
But I would encourage every coach to remember something.
You do not need to transform a thousand lives today.
Be fully present for the one person who has trusted you with their story.
Listen a little more deeply.
Ask the question you have been hesitant to ask.
Allow the silence to do its work.
And when the session ends, take a moment to reflect on what the conversation has taught you.
You may not always witness the transformation you helped initiate. Some of the most meaningful changes happen long after the coaching conversation has ended.
And that is perfectly all right.
Our work is not to become the hero of someone else’s story. It is to help them recognise that they have the ability to write their own.
Keep learning. Keep reflecting. Keep becoming.
Your journey as a coach matters just as much as the journeys you support.
What’s your journey as a coach…have you evolved as a coach through your personal explorations…