#Real LIFE Stories

This story I want to tell you happened many years ago, back when I was just starting my coaching path. It provided me with a profound insight that has stayed with me ever since.

One Saturday morning, I was walking home from the supermarket when I heard raised voices. Concerned, I quickened my pace and saw two police officers engaged in what looked like a tense situation. Being so close to my house, I wanted to ensure nothing was wrong with my neighbors.

As I approached, I saw a woman, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, visibly agitated. The police officers, equally on edge, seemed unsure of how to de-escalate the situation. The tension was palpable, and it was clear that things could easily take a turn for the worse.

I approached one of the officers and said, "I believe I could help." He was open to hearing me out and explained what was happening. The woman had been sleeping on our street for two nights, and the police were trying to take her to a safe place. However, she was refusing their help and had become very aggressive.

"Do what you can," the officer said to me.

I asked the officers to give me some space and to step back a little. I then sat down next to the woman. We stayed like that for what felt like a long time, the only sounds around us being the distant hum of the city.

"What are you doing here?" I asked gently.

"Nothing," she replied curtly.

"Well, it can't be nothing, because the police are here. What happened?" I continued.

"Someone called them. It wasn't me, and I didn't do anything," she said defensively.

"Okay, I believe you. But why do you have this suitcase with you?"

"This is mine. I didn't steal it," she retorted, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and fear.

"I believe you. Are you running away from someone?" I asked softly, trying to keep my tone neutral and non-threatening.

This question seemed to open a door. She looked at me for a moment, as if weighing whether to trust me. Then, slowly, she began to talk. Her words came hesitantly at first, but as the minutes passed, they flowed more freely. She told me about her struggles, the circumstances that led her to the streets, and the fears that kept her there. We talked for about thirty minutes, and during that time, I listened more than I spoke.

I explained to her that the police were genuinely trying to help, that they wanted to take her somewhere safe where she could get the support she needed. Gradually, she began to see them not as adversaries, but as allies.

By the end of our conversation, she agreed to go with them. As she stood up, I promised to meet her the next day. She looked at me with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty, but she walked with the officers willingly.

True to our word, we met the next day. This time, the setting was different, more comfortable, but the bond we had begun to form the previous day remained strong.

Reflecting on this experience always reminds me of a fundamental truth: it's all about people. It's about the relationships we can create and the understanding we can foster. In the end, it's about the compassion we show and the connections we build. This insight has stayed with me throughout my coaching journey, guiding me in every interaction and reinforcing the importance of empathy and human connection.