At the end of 2010, I found myself in a situation that was difficult to explain because, on the surface, nothing was particularly wrong. I was comfortable. I had a solid career, responsibility, experience, and a reasonably stable professional life. But precisely because of that, something had started to make me uncomfortable.
I did not have any major challenges ahead of me. I was not sure what my next step could be. And, above all, there was a feeling of being stuck that I did not like at all.
I felt lost.
I did not want to see myself in exactly the same place two years later, but I was not clear about what I wanted to change either. And the options that came to mind felt too far away, or I simply did not know how to get there.
That sense of being stuck led me to talk to some friends who had already been through coaching processes. I started researching what coaching actually was, what I could expect from a process like that, and what kind of coach might be right for me. I created a shortlist, met four professionals in person, considered the investment involved, and eventually decided to go for it.
The experience was far more revealing than I expected.
Sometimes I think it is a bit like that moment at the hairdresser when they hold up a hand mirror behind your head and, suddenly, you see yourself from an angle you have never seen before.
You do not necessarily discover something completely new. What surprises you is realising that it had always been there and you simply had not been looking at it.
Why have I never tried this before? Why do I keep doing that if it no longer works for me? Why do I keep reinforcing certain judgements when I talk to myself if there are no objective facts to support them?
Changing perspective changed the questions. And changing the questions began to change the decisions too.
There was a very clear return on that investment, and not only professionally. It created a deep change in the way I understood some of my own limitations, my decisions, and my responsibility for what I wanted to build. What mattered most was that it was not a temporary effect. Many of those conversations stayed with me for years afterwards.
In 2014, other challenges appeared. They were different, but once again I found myself facing something I already recognised: the feeling that certain pieces were not quite fitting together. Some of them I could not even define properly, but they were there, quietly affecting decisions, priorities, and behaviours.
I turned to coaching again.
And once again, I realised that sometimes the things that affect us most are precisely the ones we find hardest to explain.
From then on, I became increasingly interested in the discipline. I also completed training as a leader coach, which is worth distinguishing from the role of a professional coach. A leader who uses coaching skills still has responsibility for the business, the people, the results, and often also an opinion about what the right path should be. A coach, by contrast, creates a different kind of space: not directing someone towards their own solution, but helping the other person think more clearly, broaden their perspective, and find their own answers.
For years, I gradually incorporated some of that mindset into the way I led.
But in 2024, a different idea emerged.
I thought that one day I wanted to change chairs.
To move from having experienced coaching from the coachee’s chair, and having used some of its tools as a leader, to consciously sitting in the coach’s chair.
I did not know when it would happen. I did not even have a specific plan to turn it into a professional activity. But I did know why I wanted to do it.
Because there is something deeply human about accompanying another person at a moment that may be important in their life. Being present when someone sees something they have not been able to see for a long time. Asking a question that changes the direction of a conversation. Creating a space where someone can think without having to defend themselves, prove anything, or respond to other people’s expectations.
I was drawn to the idea of touching many lives at meaningful moments. Of contributing. Of giving back generously what you have learned along the way. Of leaving behind conversations that someone may still remember years later.
Memorable conversations.
That is why I decided to train rigorously. I looked for a programme accredited by the International Coaching Federation (ICF), and I also wanted it to be face-to-face. For me, there was something important about learning this discipline while physically sitting in front of other people, observing silences, gestures, doubts, and everything that happens in a conversation that does not always fit neatly into words.
Life has a curious way of placing doors in front of us.
For a long time, you may see them without knowing whether they are meant for you. Then the signs begin to appear. Previous experiences start to take on a different meaning. And eventually, life puts the door right in front of you, wide open, with the path illuminated… and you simply take the step.
Today, I can look back and connect many things that seemed unrelated when they happened: that first coaching process in 2010, the challenges of 2014, years of leading people, my growing interest in coaching, the training, and the decision to change chairs.
More than fifteen years after first sitting in the coachee’s chair, I can now put everything I have learned and experienced through coaching at the service of others.
And perhaps that is, for me, the most meaningful part of changing chairs:
having first discovered the value of a good conversation in my own life, and now having the opportunity to create that space for others.
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