I didn't even know what a coach was until 2020.

Before COVID, "coach" meant nothing more to me than a person (usually a parent or teacher) who worked with kids on a baseball field or basketball court. My kids played sports of all shapes and sizes, and they all had coaches. But then the world began to shut down, and everything I'd been holding together for so long, came into focus, whether I wanted it to or not. The word coach began to mean something entirely new.

I was raising five kids, two biological and three foster, who later became mine through adoption, while teaching middle and high school band full time. And as a music teacher, the day rarely ends at 3:30. There's marching band rehearsal, drama club, jazz band, and more. Somehow I also managed to get my own kids to their practices and games, dinner on the table, homework done, baths run, etc. It took a village at times, that’s for sure.

Somewhere in there, I'd also become the unofficial counselor for half my students, and more than a few staff members too. I was exhausted, numb, and barely surviving most days, if I'm being honest. There were many nights I cried myself to sleep, and many mornings I sat in the car and cried before going in for the day. Yet everyone kept coming to me for advice, for an ear to listen to or a shoulder to cry on. Despite all of that, a colleague told me, more than once, "you should be a life coach."

I was flattered, even though I didn’t really know what a life coach was, but she sounded complimentary. Honestly, I had to google it because I really had no idea. As flattered as I was, it didn't sound like something a single mom of five on a teaching salary could pull off, so I dismissed it. The truth was, it wasn't just about money; I wasn't healed yet myself.

I was really good at doing everything for everyone else. I seemed to have all the answers, or at least most of them. But by focusing on everyone else — at work, at home — I never had to focus on myself. For a long time, I couldn't tell people no, no matter the damage it was doing to me. I'd forgotten how to set boundaries and stick to them, and before long, I was losing more and more of me.

I remember my mom saying she missed "her Angie." That used to break my heart. For a long time I was so angry and resentful toward life in general that even "fake it 'til you make it" (my go-to motto for struggling through a concert) apparently didn't work.

But somewhere in the middle of that season, with everything I had left in me and with God's help, I took my power back. I reclaimed my strength, and eventually, my life. My kids got a happy, healthy mommy back and my mom got her Angie back.

Thankfully, the idea of coaching stuck with me while I healed. By the summer of 2024, I started researching, watching webinars, and learning what coaching actually was. My heart and soul felt a calling I couldn't let go. I kept searching, found my own coach, got trained - and here I am.

I want to help other women reclaim their power, the way I reclaimed mine. You don't have to wait until you're numb and barely surviving to decide you matter. You don't realize how much of your daily routine is just going through the motions until you stop living that way. Let me help you fall back in love with your life. As far as we know, we only have one. Let's make it the best it can possibly be.

Let's talk.