Everyone kept telling me to read this “amazing, life-changing, mind-blowing” book. It got to the point where the recommendation felt like a broken record.
For context: I’m not a self-help book person.
It’s not that I don’t understand the industry or question its intentions, I actually believe many of these books are trying to help people (and yes, the cash cow side exists, too). But I’ve always had what someone once called a “delusionally high self-esteem.” That wasn’t meant as a compliment, by the way. It was supposed to knock me down a few pegs. It didn’t.
I owned it. I still own it.
I’d much rather dive into true crime or travel memoirs about expats pet-sitting in Positano than read about unlocking inner greatness. That’s just my taste.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’ll never claim to be the most beautiful woman, the best mom, or even a great gardener. But I do know I’m great at whatever I set my mind to. I’ve always believed that’s my superpower. And yes, I’ve also been called “delusionally optimistic.” Sensing a theme?
Let’s be real: there are always people in your life who want to “ground you” or “bring you back down to earth.” I say—no thanks. “Your opinion of me is none of my business” is the nicest way I can put it. (And that’s the polite translation of “I don’t give two f*cks.”)
The truth? If you love yourself and consistently make decisions that align with your values, you’ll stay on the right side of contentment. Not happiness—that word feels overused, oversold, and a bit like something invented by the greeting card industry. Instead, I live in a space of gratitude, contentment, and joy.
And when guided meditations ask me to recall one of the most joyful moments of my life… I pause. But when asked to think of moments of giddy gratitude? That, I can do:
- Sitting outside a cabin in Big Sky, Montana, with a chilled glass of chardonnay while my kids searched for rocks in the tall grass.
- Watching a full moon eclipse under piles of blankets in college.
- Feeling the cool ocean rush against my skin while snorkeling.
- Seeing my children’s faces light up with surprise on Christmas morning.
- Watching the sunset over the rolling hills of Tuscany.
I could write for days about the things I’m grateful for.
But complete happiness? That feels like a myth. Even the big moments; my wedding day, the birth of my children, or graduating from law school; were tangled with anxiety, fear, and chaos.
Back to the Book…
I ordered You Are a Badass on a whim during a burst of New Year’s Day optimism. It arrived a few days later… and sat. First on the floor, then on a bookshelf, and eventually on my desk. For over two years, it gathered dust.
Ironically, during this time I was in the process of becoming a life coach. I got certified. I had a website. I posted consistently. I adopted the very wellness habits I was about to preach; daily yoga, journaling, meditation, reading, art.
But deep down, I was a litigator; not a shaman.
What I did understand, more than most, was burnout. Exhaustion. Illness. I was blindsided by a cancer diagnosis in 2018. And my immediate response?
“Not today, Satan. Not TODAY.”
I had a kindergartner and a third grader at home. I wasn’t going down without a fight. Their childhoods were not going to be casualties of this disease.
That experience didn’t just shape me; it redefined me
Kicking It Up a Notch
I realized that living “as if” I were already a thriving coach was cute; but insufficient. I needed focus. Precision. Drive. Luckily, drive is one thing I’ve never lacked.
Every time I’ve set my mind to something, I’ve made it happen. Like teaching myself to run five miles nonstop. It took six months and sheer willpower. I have asthma. I was 40. I’d been told, “You can’t run,” more times than I could count. So naturally, I had to prove them wrong.
Becoming a coach would be no different.
Here’s what I did know:
- It takes time. Nothing worthwhile happens overnight. If it did, we wouldn’t value it.
- It takes practice. I leaned into helping friends in transition or crisis.
- It takes boundaries. Negative critics? Goodbye. You can question me, but don’t come with hater energy.
- It takes walking the talk. Cancer was my battle scar, but lasting change came from living differently afterward.
- It takes courage. People don’t always understand you. Leaving law for life coaching drew many side-eyes. The unspoken question? “Why leave a $500/hr career for one charging $50/hr?” Because it matters.
- It takes persistence. Social media wasn’t my strong suit. I showed up anyway. Even if my posts touched just one person, that was enough.
- It takes passion. Helping someone rebuild after life hits them in the face? That’s the work I was made for.
So… Read the Book
If you’re feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, or stuck in life—it’s time to get help. Not everyone can hire a coach. So why not start with a book?
And yes, I’m referring you to another coach’s book.
Jen Sincero’s You Are a Badass is practical, honest, and (most importantly) funny. It’s one of the few self-help books I’ve actually read cover to cover. That says a lot.
Whether you’re navigating change, fighting burnout, or trying to reignite your purpose; this book is a solid place to start.
And if you ever need a coach? I’m here, too.
xo,
Laura