I've been an executive coach for about eighteen months and I love the work. I've been lucky in that my clients and I have worked well together, identifying the real issues at play (often not the presenting ones) and stretching towards solutions that my clients can sustain without any further intervention from me.
Having got a few senior assignments under my belt, I now am looking - in a crowded marketplace - to grow this side of my business. I'm thrilled that all of my clients so far have been happy to recommend me, and have written some rather humbling testimonials. I had one this week from a client I worked with for six months, which completely lit up my day:
Karen's coaching has been genuinely life-changing for me. She has a friendly, positive, upbeat manner combined with an assertive approach which does not let you get away with anything. Karen listens, asks powerful questions, offers alternative ways of seeing situations and makes the coachee responsible for their own career. She also records conversations and sends you incredibly helpful and eye-opening summaries of what you said and what this might mean, which really highlight where you might be stuck. Having worked with Karen for six months, I feel so much more confident. I have my work-life balance in check, I am much more assertive, I am really enjoying my job and people keep telling me how great I look! I'd highly recommend Karen as a coach.
I was about to post this glowing comment on a well-known business networking site, when she asked me not to as a number of her own work colleagues were also on the site, she said.
Obviously, this doesn't mean I'm any less delighted with the testimonial, but so many people have also given me testimonials but then limited their circulation, I'm starting to wonder if coaching is something people want to hide. A bit like treatment for an unmentionable disease.
Which in turn led me to wonder if vulnerability in leadership is so unacceptable that to admit you're having a bad time is career-limiting. As is having coaching, which may imply there's something to fix.
Earlier this year, I conducted an interview with a very senior executive in a European company. He told me that when he arrived at his new post, the first thing he had to do was to restructure, putting 40% of the workforce out of a job. As we talked about this experience, his voice cracked and he became noticeably upset. He told me that he had personally been involved in talking to all those made redundant. He told me how painful it had been. He told me that he had, in effect, behaved "unprofessionally" by letting his people know, in an all-company meeting, that he was at the end of his tether, and walking out.
He told me, that as he sat back in his office, alone and in silence, wondering if he should tender his resignation, email after email began to appear in his inbox. They all said that they had known their pain, but now they understood his.
While I was setting up the interview, his personal assistant told me just how inspirational she found her boss, and how, two years after he had taken the role in the company, everyone liked and admired him.
Now - is this a coincidence? To be openly public vulnerable, to show feelings as a leader, and to be admired by his people?
Latterly, I don't think so. And yet, a leadership position often seems to mandate a patina of invincibility to be painted over your personality, and it cracks at your peril.
So I wonder if acknowledging coaching is an admission of weakness that few leaders - at whatever level - are willing to make. And I expect that, until leaders are allowed to be human and be vulnerable, and until coaching is seen as development rather than "fixing", most of the testimonials I'll get will be anonymous.
