You know what a life coach needs to start collecting fees? An overdose of moxie, socks that don’t match, no shame, glasses taped together at the bridge, and a lust for prestige minus any qualifications to warrant it.
Not all life coaches are frauds, of course. Far from it. And yet where else can you find so many circus clowns who get by with nothing more than visions of fleecing poor, gullible souls, and a world of victims all too happy to aid and abet.
How can you tell the pros from the con artists, the chefs from the bus boys, as it were? First, ask for proof of the their ICF (International Coaching Federation) certification. According to their website: “ICF Credential-holders…pursue and complete rigorous education and practice requirements that provide unquestioned legitimacy to their commitment to excellence in coaching.”
If that doesn’t work, ask for evidence of a relevant background, such as experience as a human resource manager, business coach, therapist…how about just a plain ol’ degree in psychology.
But then you have “the others”. The self-proclaimed life coaches who can barely ride a tricycle, never mind help you achieve your life’s ambition or work through some deep-seated emotional imbalance. By my latest calculation, you can find one such animal per street corner.
“Hey pal, you look a little down in the dumps. Well, as luck would have it, I’m a life coach…yeah I know, what a coincidence, huh?…and, starting right now, I can help get your life back on track and achieve goals you’ve never even dreamed of!”
“Sounds great, but first would you mind taking your hand out of my pocket?”
You know what? Executive decision. Starting this very moment, I’M a life coach. Watch, I’ll prove it.
Client 1: “I’m not advancing in my career as fast as I should and can’t figure out why!”
Me: “Maybe you just suck and no one likes you. So quit whining and go do something you ARE good at, like boot licking or cleaning bathrooms.”
Client 2: “I have emotional scars from my last relationship and I’m having difficulty moving on with my life.”
Me: “Looks like you have scars from shaving your legs, too. Try buying a new pack of razors, you cheap fuck!”
Client 3: “I think I was a turtle in my past life…crawling seems to be my thing.”
Me: “Sorry pal…don’t think I can help you with that one.”
Client 4: “I need a new challenge in my life, something fun and exciting to focus on…can you help?”
Me: “Here’s an idea: focus on paying your fucking bills on time. You’re already three sessions behind!”’
Client 5: “I want to be a better Christian, but there’s so much evil in the world and I don’t understand how God can just sit back and let it happen! Am I missing something?”
Me: “No, but I am. It’s my lunch break, so let’s pick up from there next time.”
As you can see, I think I have what it takes to be a standout choice among life coaches, the real deal, someone with a clear knack for “tough love” problem solving. Me, a life coach, just because I say so. How cool is that?