Those Letters After My Name? They’re Not the Point. But They Matter.

A few years ago, I made a deliberate decision. To focus my work on people in transition—not just changing roles, but changing identity. People transitioning through or leaving long careers. People stepping into retirement. People asking a version of the same question, “How does my next chapter look…when I no longer have a script?”

Before I did anything else, I invested in the best training I could find—not just to coach well, but to coach responsibly. Training. Mentorship. Experience. And a commitment to a real code of ethics. So yes—there are letters after my name: ACC. CRLC. CTACC.

And from time to time, clients ask what they mean. It’s a fair question. But it’s usually the wrong one. Because if you’re navigating a career transition or retirement, you’re not looking for credentials. You’re trying to make sense of something that doesn’t quite have a name yet. A loss of structure.. A shift in identity. A quiet, persistent question, “Now what?” That’s where those letters start to matter—just not in the way people expect.

CTACC — Why I Don’t Start by Giving You Answers

Through the Coach Training Alliance, I was trained to resist the instinct to advise too quickly. That’s harder than it sounds. Most high-achieving professionals are surrounded by well-meaning advice: Another board role. A part-time gig. Consulting. Sometimes those are right. But often, they’re just familiar. CTACC training means I stay with the question longer—until what emerges is actually yours, not a slightly repackaged version of your past.

ACC — Why Our Conversations Don’t Stay Comfortable

My credential through the International Coaching Federation isn’t about having “better conversations.” It’s about having more useful ones.

That means:

• Not letting you hide behind a polished narrative

• Challenging assumptions that used to work—but don’t anymore

• Turning reflection into forward movement

Insight feels productive. But without movement, it becomes a very sophisticated form of stuck.

CRLC — Where Most Retirement Planning Quietly Falls Short

This is where the real gap shows up. You can be fully prepared on paper…and still feel disoriented a few months in. Not because anything is wrong.

But because:

• Your identity was tied to your work

• Your days had structure you didn’t have to think about

• Your sense of contribution was built in

CRLC training focuses on rebuilding those—intentionally. Not by filling your calendar.

But by designing a life that still feels like it has weight, direction, and meaning.

What All of This Adds Up To

Those letters don’t make someone a great coach. But they do shape how I show up when it matters: When you’re circling a decision but can’t quite land it. When something feels “off,” but you can’t explain why. When the next chapter looks wide open—and strangely unclear at the same time. Here’s the truth most people don’t say out loud:

Retirement and career transitions are not primarily logistical problems.

They’re thinking problems. Identity problems. Design problems. And they require a different kind of conversation than most people are used to having.

A Better Place to Start

If you’re in that space—where things look fine on the outside, but feel undefined underneath—Don’t start with: “What should I do next?”

Start with:

• What do I actually want more of in this next chapter?

• What am I not ready to let go of yet?

• What would make this stage feel meaningful—not just full?

If those questions feel harder than expected…that’s not a problem. That’s the work.

Let’s Talk

I set aside a few conversations each month for people in exactly this position—not to “sell coaching,” but to help you get clearer on what’s actually in front of you. If you’re in a transition, considering what’s next and something isn’t fully clicking yet, send me a message with one word: “Next.” I’ll send you a short set of questions I ask clients to help them start defining what that actually means—for them.