Some shifts in life begin with a thunderclap. Others begin with a whisper. Mine was a whisper - the kind you almost miss because the world is so loud, and your own inner noise is louder still.

In 2022, my director was approached by Cvetka from the CEF with a proposal for coaching sessions as part of the FISR2 project. I was included in the email, but thought nothing of it initially. The director told me that he himself would not be able to indulge in this activity, and left it for me to decide what to do with this opportunity.

I could have proposed this offer to anyone in my institution or beyond. After some thought, not knowing what I was getting myself into, a little voice in the back of my mind said, Why not me? To be perfectly honest, I was not looking for coaching. I did not even know what coaching entailed.

After some very rough research into the concept of "coaching," I thought that guidance was not something essential for me. If anything, I was pressing forward in the only way I knew how: quietly, dutifully, and slightly disconnected from my own aliveness. Life was not bad. But I did feel like I was on autopilot. Something essential in me had gone quiet. And in that still, searching space, coaching found me.

There is a particular ache that comes not from failure, but from stagnation-the quiet erosion of possibility. It is a slow forgetting of who you are when no one is watching. I did not realize how much of myself I had tucked away, archived under responsibility, performance, and the weight of "should."

I was not in crisis at this point in my life. I was functioning. But functioning is not the same as flourishing. And somewhere along the way, I had accepted the former as enough.

That is the strange part about self-discovery-often, we do not know what is missing until someone helps us see it. Coaching did not come to me because I was falling apart. It came because I was ready, even if I was unaware.

My first step toward coaching was almost reluctant; a conversation I did not expect to mean anything. A gentle curiosity that said, What if? I did not have clear expectations. I just had the quiet intuition that something inside me wanted to stretch, to exhale, to speak.

Cvetka offered a number of coaches to review, to see who I respond to first. Trying to tap into something (I would call it intuition), I selected Elena Antonovska-a fiery, sharp, yet soft presence in our next six sessions. I did not know it then, but Elena would meet me with both vision and grace. She did not just see me; she saw who I could become.

So, I booked the first session. And that session, in all its simplicity, cracked something open. For the first time in a long time, I was not performing. I was not problem-solving. I was not giving advice or holding space for someone else. I was being witnessed. I was being met. And somehow, in the listening presence of another, I began to hear myself again.

The next few sessions were structured. Elena would ask questions, provide space for my answers, and after each session, I would have a week to ruminate and digest what had emerged in the previous session. It was as if I was getting to know someone I had known years ago, a different Amina. It was almost nostalgic. Amid those reflections, I rediscovered passions and creativity I had assumed were long lost. I gained a clear understanding of my strengths and a grounded sense of how to meet my weaknesses with intention rather than avoidance.

I had imagined coaching would be about goals, metrics, and strategies. And at times, it is. But the kind of coaching that impacted me was not tactical. It was transformational. It did not rush to fix. It did not push for answers. It made space. Space for clarity. Space for buried truth. Space for the parts of me I had silenced out of fear they were "too much" or "not enough."

My coach did not hand me wisdom; she helped me uncover my own. She asked questions that felt like keys, opening doors I had neglected for too long. She pointed gently at the threads I did not realize I was weaving through my own story. Little by little, I began to untangle. And in that unraveling, I began to come home to myself. There is a sacred power in being seen clearly and held compassionately-not for what you do, but for who you are. Coaching offered me that kind of mirror: not a critic’s glare, but a wise friend’s gaze. In that mirror, I saw my patterns: the stories I told myself about worth, success, love, and identity. I saw where I had been performing resilience instead of embodying it. I saw how I avoided stillness, not because I did not value it, but because I was afraid of what it might show me And yet, the more I looked, the more I found grace, and the more clearly I saw my value, both professionally and personally. This transformation rarely announces itself with trumpets. It slips in quietly, changing the way you speak to yourself. It alters your posture. It rewires your choices. Over time, I noticed:

I was speaking with more conviction, not louder, but steadier. I was making decisions with less turmoil-not because I was certain, but because I trusted myself to learn. I was honoring my boundaries-not with defensiveness, but with peace. I was dreaming again-not in fantasy, but in rooted possibility. These were not changes I forced. They were natural consequences of remembering who I was before I started asking for permission. Looking back, I can name what coaching gave me-not as a checklist, but as a collection of deep, lived truths: Permission-to question what I had accepted as truth. Presence-to sit with discomfort, not rush to resolve it. Power-not over others, but within myself. Peace-the kind that does not require perfection. And perhaps most profoundly: an inner anchor-an internal steadiness. The final session with Elena was bittersweet. It felt like an ending, but also a beginning. It would be my task from then on to hold this space for myself and be accountable to my own truth.

What happened next was that, in embracing coaching for myself, I found not only personal transformation but a quiet calling-to open the path for others. By sharing my experience with honesty and heart, I created space for others to explore their own growth, to give themselves permission to be supported, and to step into the kind of self-discovery they had not realized they, too, were longing for.

The following year, when the CEF once again generously offered this opportunity, I felt compelled to extend the gift further. I suggested coaching to one of my dearest colleagues-someone whose potential I had always seen, even if she had not fully claimed it yet. What followed was both moving and affirming: I had the privilege of stepping back and witnessing her transformation unfold. Some shifts were quiet-a softening here, a new confidence there-while others were striking and unmistakable. To watch someone you care about come home to themselves is its own kind of reward-one that reaffirmed everything I had come to believe about the power of coaching.

The year after that, the CEF graciously embraced what may have seemed like an unconventional proposal: group coaching sessions tailored for our institution. Coaching, after all, is not a one-size-fits-all solution. It requires a willingness to look inward, to be challenged, to sit with discomfort as a gateway to growth. It asks participants to show up with honesty and vulnerability, which not everyone is ready or willing to do. Yet, for those who stepped into the process with openness and courage, the rewards were tangible. They discovered new perspectives, strengthened their sense of agency, and planted seeds of transformation that, like mine, may continue to bloom long after the sessions concluded.

If you have ever thought coaching is a luxury for people with time and money to spare, I hear you. That is what I believed, too. But now I understand: coaching is not about indulgence. It is about liberation. It is about carving out space in a noisy world to listen to what your soul is saying-and maybe has been saying for years. It is not about being told what to do. It is about being guided back to what you have always known, but maybe forgot how to trust. To the one who does not think they need it: this is for you-the one who is smart, capable, thoughtful. The one who gives more than they receive. The one who feels a flicker inside, wondering if there is more.

Let me say this with love:

• You are not weak for wanting support.
• You are not indulgent for choosing to grow.
• You are not behind-you are becoming.
• Coaching might not be what you think.
• But it might be exactly what you need.
• Not to change you, but to help you return.

There is one more thing I would like to say: I am not finished. I am still unfolding, still meeting parts of myself I had forgotten. But now, I walk this path with intention, not just momentum. And that, to me, is everything. Coaching did not hand me a different life. It helped me reclaim the one that was waiting beneath the noise. So if this is the sign you did not know you were looking for, take it.

• You are allowed to want more.
• You are allowed to seek support.
• You are allowed to be guided back to the deepest, truest parts of yourself.

And who knows-you might look back one day and say, "This is the help I did not even know I needed. And it changed everything."