Hi, I’m Rachel Martin, and I am a Career Change & Fulfillment Coach for women that are currently stuck in corporate hell. I’m here to help you find joy in the work that you do. Yes, I know that right now it sounds like a trick, but its really not.

I know why you are here. You are bored, unchallenged, its all so samey.

The dullness of your work is permeating the rest of your life, its like a fog in your head and behind your eyes.

You’re thinking “is this it” and it feels monumentally crap.

I know this because I was in the same place myself, not too long ago.

In 2016 I crashed. I had been miserable at work for years, but had been doing a fantastic Ostrich impression, which led everyone including myself to believe that it was all good. I was fine, nobody liked their job anyway right?

The crash happened as a result of a miscarriage, an event that shook me to my core. It started to make me question everything, and the biggest question mark was hanging over my career. Suddenly that whisper of dissatisfaction became a shout, one that wouldn’t go away. My distraction techniques of over spending, over eating, over drinking, and non stop scrolling had stopped working. I was being forced into action.

I had known a life of rejection, of ridicule and of being seen as simply not good enough, someone that wouldn’t amount to much. I wasn’t at all surprised that I had ended up sat behind a desk believing thats where I was supposed to be.

But the idea of change was exhausting, it felt like it would take forever, cost too much, be too difficult. I’d be judged for wanting to make more of myself.

The thing was, I knew that despite all of this I was meant for more. I believe that all of us are here for a reason, all of us can make a lasting impact on the world around us.

Now at this point, you may well be expecting me to say that this is when I went and worked with a coach, dealt with my shit and left my soul destroying job. All of thats true and it did happen. But there is more to the story.

My parents divorced when I was 6. I was and still am an only child. I was also the first kid in my class to have divorced parents and as a result of that, I was treated like I had the plague. I was viewed as different. I stood out, and not for any good reasons. The divorce meant that in one day I was uprooted and moved to another city. To a school where they didn’t like my posh accent, and where having red hair was something to be picked on for. My world changed in an instant, and so I spent the next couple of decades fighting against it as much as I could.

My parents married other people, people that were mean to me, and really didn’t want me around. My life story was very quickly becoming one in which I didn’t matter, where I wasn’t considered in anything, and where my voice, my looks and my experiences all made me a target.

This continued into my teens and twenties. Boyfriends who once again showed me that I wasn’t worthy of being treated well. Supposed friends who I always heard talking about me behind my back.

But nobody would ever have known, I was becoming the master of ‘cover ups’. I spent my time making people laugh, dancing and singing at random moments. I was always up for a laugh, for a party, and yet inside the pain was enormous.

I developed OCD, became hugely paranoid about my safety. It would take me about an hour to go to bed at night because of checking the locks repeatedly. I counted my steps as I walked, and also counted on my fingers continuously. I took drugs, lots of them, and hung out in some very dodgy places with equally dodgy people. Something was going very very wrong, but I couldn’t see what it was or how to stop it.

Yes, I did once or twice wonder if it mattered if I was here anymore. One of the people that should have been front and centre in my life, never was. Which always left me with the feeling of being defective, of being wrong for existing.

I was forever feeling like I was fighting my way out of things. I left the abusive relationship, I moved to another part of the country. But the weight of all that hurt still followed me.

This continued until 2016. I had the swanky city job, a lovely flat with the man that I loved (and still do love), a great group of friends, and a couple of lovely holidays a year. To the outside world it looked like I had it made. But I felt so lost, so uninspired and defeated. I was spending my life people pleasing and it was exhausting. I had run out of ways to hide. That’s the first time that I ever asked for help. The first time I understood that I really needed it, and without it, I would continue to spiral.

I started working with a Coach. I had never understood up until that point how a perfect stranger could feel like home, but thats exactly how it felt.

I learnt how my mind worked, I learnt how to distinguish the truth from the lies, I learnt how to lean into all of that hurt and unpick all of those knots. And I was okay, I was safe, Nothing bad happened, in fact only good things started to happen.

I learnt that I could never get rid of my fear, but that I could use it as a tool, and do the stuff regardless. I learnt how courageous I could be.

I left my job, I left it when I had a 7 month old baby, and an idea for my business. I knew that I would be okay, better than okay. I was going to be brilliant.

I started to really show up for my life, to put myself first. I fed myself good food, I exercised, hydrated, took pride in my appearance.

Out of all that I learned about myself, the number one was this. That I was and am worthy of love, that I am more than enough, and that my treatment by others was about them and not me. I was not what any of those people had ever said about me. I rewrote my story.

We all live by our stories, and what we fail to see is that by doing so, we allow our past to dictate our future. We have given over control to fear, and to untruths. We react to things the same way that we always have. We look for situations that will confirm what we fear the most.

That’s the reason you are in that career that you loathe, because you settled after a lifetime of believing and looking for proof that you weren’t worth more.

My Dad wasn’t around, he lost interest, and so I looked for men who would also treat me like I didn’t matter, it meant that in a very fucked up way I was proving to myself that they were right.

But I’m not the 6 year old with divorced parents anymore, I’m not the 12 year old who wants to live with her Dad but he says he doesn’t have room. I’m not the 17 year old taking drugs, and you aren’t those previous versions of you either.

Right now, you have a choice to make. To step boldly forward or to shrink back again.

I now count everything I went through as a blessing. Would I want to be abandoned by a parent again? No, of course not. Have I learned and grown and flourished because of it? Absolutely.

I know who I am, because I chose to find out. I didn’t want to be governed by stories that had been twisted over the years, I wanted my truth, and I wanted a life that was full of the real me, and not the distorted version I believed that I was. I wanted to hold myself accountable, to make a difference in the world, and to step into my potential.

Its time for you to say yes to yourself.

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