I have always been curious about what lives beneath the obvious.
People. Relationships. The things we carry. The questions that stay with us. And the moments that quietly change how we see our lives.
Hello, I’m Shay.
Why do some experiences stay with us? Why do we repeat certain dynamics? Why can something make complete sense in our head and still feel unresolved somewhere else?
I used to think the point was to find the answer. These days, I am more interested in what becomes possible when we stay with a good question long enough to hear what it is really asking of us.
“Without contraries is no progression.”
William Blake · The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
Looking back, the journey makes sense.
It has been a gradual unfolding. Curiosity first. Then experience. Then loss. Then the kind of questions that become personal.
I was drawn to things that asked me to look twice.
I found myself reading and exploring symbolism, mythology, archetypal astrology, Jungian concepts, and different ways people have tried to understand human experience. These have been personal interests and part of my own search for meaning.
My personal interests are part of my story. They are not a lens I place onto yours. In life coaching, your language, your values, and your understanding of your own experience remain at the centre.
Some questions did not need to be solved to matter.
I became less concerned with having a neat explanation for everything. I also learned that what feels meaningful to one person may not hold the same meaning for another. That difference matters to me.
I kept returning to the moments that made me stop and reconsider something I thought I already understood. Sometimes that meant changing my mind. Sometimes it simply meant being willing not to know yet.
Then grief changed the questions.
When my mother died, many of the ideas I had spent years thinking about stopped being theoretical. Loss has a way of stripping things down. It made me look more closely at what I valued, what I carried with me, and how I wanted to live while I was still here.
I began noticing how much of myself had been shaped around belonging.
I could see how easily I had learned to adapt. I knew how to read a room and how to become who I thought a situation required. Some of what I had called personality was also habit, expectation, protection, and a wish to belong. Recognizing a pattern does not mean I never fall into it. It usually means I notice it a little sooner.
I became less interested in fixing myself.
I became more interested in knowing myself. That distinction changed a lot. It made room for more honesty, more humour, and less urgency to turn every difficult moment into a problem that needed to disappear.
I started to trust that understanding sometimes arrives slowly. I did not need to force every experience into a lesson before I was ready to know what it meant to me.
Eventually, the journey led me toward life coaching.
I am currently completing my Life Skills Coach training at Rhodes Wellness College in Vancouver, BC. My training has brought professional standards, ethical practice, and discipline to something I have been drawn to for years: sitting with another person, listening closely, asking thoughtful questions, and staying with what matters without deciding the meaning for them.
My training emphasizes clear agreements, attentive listening, ethical boundaries, and reflective inquiry, with your experience and autonomy at the centre.
My training is informed by the ICF Core Competencies
I also study the Core Competencies established by the International Coaching Federation (ICF), a leading global professional and credentialing body for coaching. The competencies provide recognized standards for ethical practice, coach education, and professional development.
For me, these standards help anchor the work professionally while still leaving room for a real human conversation. They support how I want to show up: ethically, attentively, collaboratively, and with respect for the client’s autonomy.
A few things matter more to me now than they used to.
Honesty without harshness.
I value being truthful while still being mindful of how it is offered.
The freedom to change.
I do not think we have to remain loyal to an old version of ourselves simply because it is familiar.
People are more than one moment.
I try to remember that a person can be complicated, contradictory, and still worthy of being met with care.
Humour still matters.
There are serious things in life. I do not think that means we have to become serious about everything.
I used to think clarity meant finally knowing. Now I think it can also mean knowing what deserves my attention.
You can begin before you have the words for it.
Sometimes we know something matters before we know how to explain it. You can bring what feels unfinished, difficult to name, or simply worth staying with for a while. I will listen carefully, ask thoughtful questions, and stay with what matters to you.
In our conversations, your language, values, and understanding remain at the centre. My role is to offer attention, reflection, and thoughtful challenge without taking authority over what your experience means to you.
I have always been drawn to conversations that go somewhere unexpected.
Not because I am trying to get somewhere quickly. I genuinely like hearing how people understand their lives, what has stayed with them, what they have changed their minds about, and what still does not quite make sense.
And you would be welcome to ask me questions too.
That is a little of what brought me here.
If something in my story resonates with you, you are welcome to say hello.
Explore a conversation →Photography by Alex Guillaume · Unsplash