There is a moment from my early coaching work that stayed with me far longer than I expected. Because it unsettled something in me and took time to recover from.
I was working with a new client. Early in our sessions it became clear that she carried unprocessed childhood trauma. It showed up in her emotions, in the way she spoke, in the weight behind her words.
During my coaching training, I had learned how to work with emotions. How to stay present when feelings surface. How not to rush to fix or move past them. I always enjoyed that part of the work, and it felt natural to me. So when this client’s emotions emerged, I didn’t shy away. I stayed with her. I invited her to explore what was coming up.
At the time, it felt only right to do so.
What I didn’t yet fully understand was how trauma can be relived. Not remembered, but re-experienced. The conversation didn’t lead to relief or clarity. It opened something that couldn’t be safely held within the frame of a coaching session.
When the hour ended, I gently invited her to find closure for the day so I could prepare for my next client. Only later did I understand the impact of what had happened. What was intended as support had caused distress rather than processing.
As a coach, I had moved beyond my scope. I had stepped into psychological territory without the training or qualification to hold it responsibly. That realisation landed heavily.
For months afterwards, I questioned myself. I felt uncertain, smaller in my role than before. My confidence took a real hit. I replayed the session many times, trying to understand where the line had been crossed, and why I hadn’t recognised it sooner.
With time and reflection, something began to settle.
In theory, I had always known about the boundaries between coaching and therapy. They are part of every reputable training. On paper, they appear clear. In practice, they are far more nuanced. Emotions are part of being human, and they show up in coaching all the time. The real work lies in recognising when an emotion is something to explore, and when it signals that a different kind of support is needed.
That experience became a powerful lesson.
I learned about my own limitations, not as a weakness, but as an essential part of professional responsibility. I learned the importance of not working in isolation, of having supervision and trusted peers to reflect with when situations feel complex or unclear. I learned how I respond to mistakes — my tendency to internalise, to doubt, to carry things quietly.
I also learned more clearly where my responsibility ends and where a client’s responsibility begins. And I learned how different theory can feel once it meets real people and real pain.
I wish that particular client hadn’t been on the other side of my learning. That part still sits with me.
And at the same time, that moment shaped me more deeply as a practitioner than many more “regular” sessions ever could. It made me more grounded, more cautious, and more respectful of the weight that comes with holding space for another person’s inner world.
Failure can become a profound source of learning. This one certainly was.
Career change coaching 