When we engage in the process of personal development or seek to fulfill on a vision that we hold for ourselves, one of the most significant obstacles we often face doesn't come from the outside world but from within ourselves. It's the narratives we tell ourselves, the inner dialogue that dictates what we believe we can or cannot do. As a coach, I've come to recognize these narratives, or stories, not just as mere thoughts but as powerful forces that shape the reality of the individuals I work with.

One of the most common, yet profoundly limiting patterns I encounter, is when individuals "fight" for their limitations. This isn't always about a verbal argument but an internal one, where every thought and belief they hold serves as evidence that they cannot achieve what they desire. This could manifest in various forms, from believing they're not smart enough, not talented enough, or simply not worthy of the success they dream of. But ultimately, they find ways to "defend" the status quo. To "defend" the current state of things. And inadvertently hold themselves stuck.

This is where my role as a coach becomes crucial. As someone deeply invested in their growth, I listen not just to what they say but to what lies beneath those words. It's almost like having an internal radar that's always attuned to detect these limiting beliefs. And yes, there are moments when it stirs a sense of frustration in me, almost like a righteous anger on their behalf. Why? Because from where I stand, I can see the vast expanse of their potential, the sheer magnitude of what they're capable of, if only they wouldn't stand in their own way.

This frustration, however, isn't directed at them. It's aimed at the invisible chains that bind them - the stories they've told themselves over the years, which have now hardened into what seems like insurmountable truths. It's these stories that keep them stuck, like a ship anchored firmly in the harbor, unable to sail towards the horizon of possibilities that lies beyond. But as a coach, I recognize that my frustrations actually point to my own inner work that I must continue to do, in order to show up and hold space for my clients.

Ideally, my approach, therefore, is not to challenge these beliefs head-on. That would only strengthen their resolve. Instead, it's about gently guiding them to question the validity of these stories. It's about encouraging them to see that these narratives are not intrinsic truths but constructs of their mind, which can be deconstructed and reshaped.

This journey isn't always an easy one. It requires patience, empathy, and sometimes, a bit of tough love. It's about creating a space where they feel safe enough to explore these vulnerabilities, to acknowledge their fears and doubts without judgment. This is where the transformation begins. It's a process of peeling back the layers, challenging each limiting belief, and replacing it with something more empowering.

It's important to understand that this transformation doesn't happen overnight. These beliefs are often deeply ingrained, having been reinforced over years, if not decades. The work involves not just identifying these beliefs but understanding their origins, acknowledging the role they've played, and then consciously choosing to let them go.

As their coach, my job is to hold up a mirror, showing them not as they believe themselves to be but as the limitless beings they truly are. It's about helping them shift their focus from what they can't do to what they can, from what's holding them back to what's propelling them forward. This shift in perspective is pivotal. It changes everything.

In essence, the journey we embark on is one of liberation. It's about freeing oneself from the self-imposed shackles of limiting beliefs, allowing them to step into a space of endless possibilities. As their coach, I'm there every step of the way, cheering them on, believing in them, and sometimes, gently pushing them out of their comfort zone. Because in the end, the greatest joy comes from seeing them achieve what they once believed was impossible.