Sitting in the In-Between: Coach? Therapist? Or Something Else Entirely?

There’s a weird space nobody talks about enough.

It’s that in-between land, not quite a therapist, not just a coach. Not clinical. Not surface-level. A foot in both worlds. That’s where I live. And to be honest, sometimes it’s uncomfortable as hell.

People want you to pick a lane. "Are you a coach or a therapist?" Like, if you don’t pick, you can’t be trusted. Like nuance is suspicious. But healing isn’t black and white, and neither is the work I do.

I’ve Got the Receipts, But No Job Title That Fits

Let me give you the context.

I’ve spent over a decade coaching people through real, raw, messy stuff, burnout, chronic illness, people-pleasing, decision fatigue, self-worth meltdowns, and the terrifying moment when your whole life no longer makes sense.

I’ve trained in NLP. I’ve studied psychology. I’ve helped people sort their lives out, hold themselves accountable, and build new foundations after chaos.

And now I’m training as a psychotherapist, because I wanted to go deeper, hold things more safely, and understand the roots of what keeps people stuck. I didn’t want to be the person who helped someone chase goals when what they actually needed was to stop running.

So here I am. Coaching with therapeutic depth. Studying therapy while coaching clients through massive life pivots. Holding both tools, and still wondering what the hell to call myself.

The Branding Problem No One Prepares You For

"Coach" doesn’t always land. It gets lumped in with shiny Instagram goals and hustle-culture nonsense. And I’m not here for that. I’m not shouting affirmations in the mirror or pretending your trauma can be solved with a mood board.

But “therapist” isn’t fully true either, not yet. I’m in training. And even when I’m qualified, I won’t be the softly-spoken, blank-faced cliché.

So what do I say?

I help people untangle emotional chaos. I help them stop faking fine. I hold space for the bits that feel too much, and then we work out what to do next. I do the work between breakdown and breakthrough. Between coping and changing. The work that doesn’t always have a neat job title.

And yes, sometimes I envy the simplicity of a clear label. But I wouldn’t trade the depth I bring for a shinier box.

The Real Challenge? Selling Something That Doesn’t Fit a Box

Coaching is hard to sell when it isn’t shallow. Therapy isn’t something I can promise yet. And people don’t always know what they’re looking for until they’re in the room with me.

But when they get here, they stay.

Because what I offer isn’t just support, it’s thinking space. It’s clarity. It’s honest reflection, without shame. It’s someone who sees the big picture and doesn’t rush you to fix things before you’ve even named them.

Clients say things like:

"I’ve had therapy before but this felt more useful."

"You helped me say things I didn’t know I was allowed to think."

"This wasn’t what I expected, but it’s exactly what I needed."

They’re not looking for a label. They’re looking for change. And that’s what I help them find.

What I Know For Sure

I might not have the perfect title yet. But I know what I bring.

I bring depth without drowning people. Insight without jargon. Compassion without over-identifying. Challenge without shame. And humour, because life’s too serious to do this work with a furrowed brow the whole time.

I’m not here to fix people. I’m here to walk with them while they figure things out. To reflect what’s really going on under the surface, and help them make choices that feel like theirs.

And If You’re Sitting in the In-Between Too…

Whether you’re a coach questioning your depth, a therapist tired of models that don't leave room for real life, or someone just trying to figure out what kind of help they need, I see you.

You don’t have to fit in a box to bring value.

Some of us are building something new entirely, and that starts by telling the truth about where we are, not pretending we’ve already arrived.