Coaching vs. Therapy: How I Chose My Path

A fork in the road

“Are you a therapist?”

“Aren’t coaching and therapy basically the same thing?”

I get these questions all the time — and they matter. While there is overlap, coaching and therapy are different in crucial ways, especially when it comes to how we heal, grow, and move forward after major life transitions.

I’m not a therapist. I’m a certified coach with a background in conflict resolution. And I didn’t take this path by accident. Here's why I chose coaching — and why it might be exactly what you’re looking for.

From Science to Coaching: My Unlikely Path

I didn’t start my career in coaching. Or even in anything remotely close. My first degree was in molecular biology. I spent my early twenties immersed in reagents and lab coats, and while I enjoyed working on trying to solve global health crises with the help of mice, something in me always yearned for a more... ahem... human connection, deeper personal interactions, more soul.

So I pivoted.

I entered the marketing field, first in biotech and then in tech. I spent almost twenty years climbing the corporate ladder, leading teams, launching products, and checking every conventional box of success. And from the outside, it looked like I’d made it.

But on the inside, something still felt… off. I was successful, but not fulfilled. Productive, but disconnected from my deeper purpose.

That’s when the real search began. I started volunteering, learning various emotional healing modalities, taking mindfulness classes, and coaching on the side. Slowly, I realized I felt most alive and in the flow when I was helping people navigate difficult conversations, major transitions, and inner turning points.

As I continued honing my coaching skills through various programs and workshops, I finally felt like I was on the right path.

And that was when I hit a fork in the road: should I become a therapist… or build something different?

Why I Didn’t Become a Therapist

I applied to—and was accepted into—three highly regarded graduate programs in Marriage and Family Therapy (LMFT). I thought I wanted to become a licensed therapist. After all, I was already supporting people in deep, vulnerable moments. It seemed like the logical next step.

But as I sat with the decision, something didn’t feel quite right. I started to examine more closely what being an LMFT would actually entail — not just the education, but also the ethical constraints, licensing requirements, and limitations on practice. And the more I learned and talked to my licensed friends, the more I realized: being a therapist wasn’t the right path for me.

Therapy is a vital, regulated profession invaluable for addressing various mental health conditions like anxiety and depression, processing unresolved trauma, and managing emotional dysfunction that significantly impacts daily life. Licensed therapists are trained to:

• Diagnose and Treat: They provide clinical diagnoses and evidence-based treatment plans.

• Maintain Clinical Boundaries: This includes generally not sharing personal experiences in session to keep the focus on the client's clinical needs.

• Adhere to Specific Modalities: They often work within frameworks approved by their licensing boards.

All of this has deep value — not just for people in crisis, but for anyone willing to look inward. I’ve worked with therapists since my late teens, and those sessions helped me heal parts of myself I didn’t even know were hurting.

We all carry wounds — unintegrated parts of ourselves, old stories we’ve internalized, and protective patterns that once kept us safe but now keep us stuck. Therapy gave me the tools and space to meet those parts with compassion and understanding. It helped me make sense of my internal landscape and offered healing that I believe everyone can benefit from, not just those with a diagnosis.

At the same time, I realized that traditional therapy has its limits — at least for the kind of work I felt called to do. The structure is rigorous (and for good reason), but it often doesn’t allow for personal experience, alternative modalities, or meeting clients in a more fluid, human way.

I wanted to show up with my whole self — to share, when appropriate, what helped me. To integrate embodied practices, conflict resolution tools, and storytelling. To support people who aren’t in crisis, but are in the thick of big life transitions — the “messy middle” where clarity, agency, and aligned action feel just out of reach.

That’s why, after leaving my corporate job and investigating the differences between coaching vs. therapy, I chose a different path. I enrolled in a Master's program in Negotiation and Conflict Resolution — a field that equips me to work with both interpersonal and internal conflict. And I built a coaching practice around everything I wish I’d had whenever I was in that uncertain space myself.

Coaching vs. Therapy: A Different Approach

Therapy is essential when your nervous system is overwhelmed or you’re in emotional crisis. I’ve been there myself, and I’ve done the deep work in therapy that helped me regain my footing.

But coaching meets you in a different place. It’s for when you’re no longer just trying to survive — you’re ready to rebuild. To realign. To move forward in a way that actually feels like you.

Coaching is where we gently untangle what still feels sticky — the patterns, beliefs, or fears that keep you from moving forward — from a place of uncovering truth, reconnecting with your values, and stepping into a new version of your life.

It gives me the freedom to show up fully and bring all of who I am into our work together.

Here’s what that looks like:

• I can share my own lived experience. In therapy, self-disclosure is often off-limits. In coaching, I can tell you what helped me navigate divorce, co-parenting, remarriage, and all the messy middle parts of rebuilding. When it’s helpful, I’ll share it. When it’s not, I’ll just listen. But the boundary is flexible — and human.

  
  

• We can work with parts and patterns, without a diagnosis. I often use Internal Family Systems (IFS), somatic practices, and nervous system regulation tools. We explore your protective parts, your stuck patterns, and your deeper needs, without needing to label or medicalize what you’re feeling.

  
  

• We can draw from a broader range of tools. Because I’m not bound to one clinical model, I integrate what works: Hakomi-inspired mindfulness, Tao-informed practices, body-based trauma healing, conflict resolution skills, and insights from my graduate work in negotiation and conflict resolution. If it supports your growth, I’ll bring it in.

  
  

This is the kind of work I’m most passionate about — helping people reconnect with their truth, reclaim their voice, and live in alignment with who they are. Not someday, but now.

Coaching vs. Therapy: What’s the Difference?

Feature	Therapy	Coaching
Focus	Healing past wounds, stabilizing mental health	Moving forward, aligning with goals
Tools Used	Evidence-based clinical models (CBT, EMDR, etc.)	Not limited by approved clinical models
Self-Disclosure	Typically discouraged	Can be used intentionally
Regulation	Licensed, state-regulated	Certification-based, more flexible
Best For	Mental health conditions, trauma	Transitions, growth, relational challenges

How Coaching Can Support You

If you're considering working with me, here's what you can expect:

• You’ll never be pathologized. We won’t focus on what’s “wrong” with you — we’ll work with what’s true and what wants to change.

• You’ll get honesty and experience. I won’t pretend to have all the answers, but I will share what I’ve lived through and what helped me grow.

• You’ll get tools... and heart. Expect a blend of structure and soul. Science and story. Strategy and self-trust.

Coaching is not therapy. It’s not a substitute if you’re dealing with trauma, depression, or anxiety that requires clinical support. In those cases, I’ll help connect you with someone qualified and licensed.

But if you're in a place where you’re ready to move forward — to break old patterns, find your voice, and navigate relationships with more clarity and courage — then coaching might be the support you didn’t know you needed.

Sometimes the best support doesn't come from someone with a clipboard and a license. It comes from someone who has walked through the fire, found the path, and is willing to walk with you, as both a guide and a fellow human.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to connect. Book a free session!