Coaching is great, but it's not the same as therapy. If you’ve been stuck, burnt out, or chasing results that never feel satisfying, this post breaks down the real difference between therapy and coaching (and why it matters more than people think). We’ll talk about subconscious beliefs, childhood patterns, and the mistakes high-achievers often make when trying to “fix” themselves through strategy alone.

When people ask, “Can trauma cause people-pleasing?”, the short answer is yes. But it’s not just trauma in the obvious sense (violence, neglect, abuse). It’s also the quiet emotional conditioning that teaches you your safety and belonging depend on your behavior. If, as a kid, you internalized the message that: Love & acceptance = performance, Conflict = chaos & resentment, Having needs = feeling dismissed/burdensome

I used to think emotional availability meant being warm, open, maybe someone who cried during Pixar movies. I assumed if someone was expressive, helpful, “good at communicating,” they were emotionally available. I also assumed I was. Emotional availability has less to do with how talkative or “deep” you seem, and more to do with your capacity to stay emotionally engaged and attuned. You can have profound intellectual conversations and still be unavailable if you shut down when things feel too real.

Why It’s Not Just a Bubble Bath, and What Childhood Has to Do With It Let’s start with the obvious: Self-soothing is a term that gets thrown around a lot, especially on social media. One minute it’s bubble baths and chamomile tea. The next, it’s being told to “journal through it.” But if you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, anxious, or stuck in a loop of self-sabotage, you know this:

Let’s clear something up right away: emotional regulation isn’t about “staying calm.” It’s not about being zen all the time. It’s not about controlling every reaction or pretending you’re fine when you’re not. Real emotional regulation is the ability to feel something, especially something uncomfortable, and stay connected to yourself long enough for it to dissipate. This lessens the overwhelm and allows you to respond intentionally.

I’ve worked with a lot of clients over the years who can’t sit still without guilt creeping in. They take a weekend off, or even just a 30-minute break, and suddenly they’re flooded with thoughts like: “I should be doing something right now.” “Did I really earn this?” “This is wasted time.”

The relationship between productivity and self-worth is a tricky one. Many of us chase productivity as if it’s the holy grail of success, but what if I told you that this drive often stems from unresolved childhood issues? It’s a pattern I see frequently in my clients, high-achievers who feel the need to constantly prove themselves, often at the expense of their wellbeing.

If you find yourself repeatedly drawn to emotionally unavailable people, it’s not a coincidence. It’s not the algorithm. It’s not some cruel glitch in the dating pool. It’s your brain doing what it’s wired to do: follow the blueprint it picked up early in life. From birth, your brain starts building a map of what connection feels like. If love meant inconsistency, distance, or walking on eggshells, your body logged that in as safe. Not because it was good. But because it was familiar. And familiarity, to the survival brain, means “we’ve lived through this before.

One of my clients came to me feeling like she was constantly at war with herself. She had big ideas, creative vision, and a lot to say, but somehow, nothing ever made it out into the world. She would write captions, then delete them. Draft an email, then save it in a folder that never saw daylight. Make a plan, then immediately second-guess it.

One of my clients used to tell me, “I always pick the wrong guys.” On the surface, it looked like another round of bad dates. But over time, something deeper showed up. She wasn’t unlucky. She was patterned. And the pattern wasn’t random, it was built years ago, in childhood. Not just in her nervous system, but in her subconscious beliefs. Beliefs she didn’t even realize she had.

As much as I hate the word “boundaries” and think it’s overused in pop psychology, they are super important, and I haven’t found a better word to replace it (open to suggestions). So we’re going to stick with “boundaries” for the duration of this blog.

I Thought It Was Just Work Stress, Then My Clients Showed Me It Was Trauma. I used to believe most people just needed better work-life balance. A calendar tweak here, a “no” there, and boom, problem solved. But the more I listened to clients, the more something didn’t add up. These weren’t disorganized people. They weren’t unaware. They weren’t flailing.