They sold you healing like a cure.

What they didn’t tell you is they need you broken to stay in business.

Mainstream coaching thrives on your perpetual brokenness, packaging “healing” as an endless journey where you’re forever chasing wholeness but never quite arriving.

They’ve built empires on your trauma, convincing you that your wounds need gentle care, endless processing and constant attention.

Bullshit.

Your wounds aren’t delicate flowers to be watered with gratitude journals and affirmation practices. They’re not treasures to be displayed in sharing circles where everyone competes for who’s most damaged.

I watched a client spend three years with a “trauma-informed” coach who kept her locked in processing loops, revisiting her childhood pain weekly. Three years of “honoring her wounds.” Three years of being the eternally broken one. Three years of paying someone to keep her stuck.

That’s not healing. That’s wound worship.

And it’s a f*cking business model.

You know how I know? I was that coach once. I kept clients in those loops because I was taught that’s what healing looked like: endless introspection, constant processing, perpetual pain exploration.

Here’s what they don’t want you to see… The coaching industry has monetized your brokenness and rebranded it as “the healing journey.”

Every time you hear:

“This takes time”
“Healing isn’t linear”
“You’ll always be working on yourself”

Translate it: “Keep paying me forever.”

The wound-worship paradigm positions you as permanently damaged, always in need of another workshop, another program, another fucking breakthrough session.

They’ve built a religion around trauma where the only sin is thinking you’re done healing.

My approach? We don’t heal wounds. We forge weapons.

Your trauma isn’t your cross to bear. It’s the fire that tempers your blade.

Your darkness isn’t something to process endlessly. It’s power waiting to be unleashed.

When you come to me feeling broken, I don’t see someone who needs years of gentle healing circles. I see raw material for something dangerous.

A client came to me after four coaches and six years of “trauma work.” She’d been taught to cradle her abandonment issues like a sick child. Within three months with me, she’d transformed that abandonment into radical self-reliance that terrified everyone around her.

She didn’t heal her wound. She weaponized it.

The mainstream wants you soft, vulnerable, and eternally processing. They want you identifying as your trauma, wearing your diagnosis like a personality.

I want you lethal.

Stop worshipping at the altar of your wounds.

Stop paying people to keep you broken.

Your darkness isn’t something to overcome. It’s something to unleash.

The wound-worship coaches need you broken to validate their existence.

I need you dangerous to validate mine.

Don’t know where to start? Right here. The Trauma Paradox is the gateway to weaponizing wounds, and to no longer trying to “fix” something that was only ever there to empower you. We don’t worship wounds here. We weaponize them. #TraumaAsWeapon

Nice is what’s killing you. Slowly. Quietly. Like a good girl should.

Nice is swallowing your rage until it turns to acid in your gut.

Nice is slow suicide in sensible shoes.

Nice is what makes you apologize while someone’s stabbing you in the back.

Nice is what has you tone policing your own screams.

Nice is what keeps you bringing casseroles to people who’d watch you drown.

Nice is letting people cross your boundaries because making waves isn’t polite.

Nice is trauma wearing a pretty dress and a fake smile.

Nice is a death sentence with a smile.

Nice is why you’re popping Xanax in the bathroom at work with another panic attack.

Nice is why you’re on your third autoimmune disorder, while your digestive system eats itself alive.

Nice is trauma wearing lipstick, and calling itself love.

And I’m done being nice.

Last week, a woman came to me shaking. Not crying. Not screaming. Shaking.

She’d spent so many years being nice, she forgot how to speak. Her voice was trapped under decades of “good girl” and “be kind” and “don’t make anyone uncomfortable.”

Know what happened when she finally broke? She remembered every single person who told her to be “nice” while they were destroying her. Every. Single. One.

Your shadow remembers too.

Every time you swallowed your rage and called it peace.
Every time you froze instead of fought.
Every time you made yourself smaller, smaller, smaller, until you almost disappeared.

That darkness you keep trying to heal? That’s not darkness. That’s your power breaking through nice’s prison walls

That anger you’re afraid of? It knows where the bodies are buried.

That bitch you keep caging? She knows how to save your life.

Nice girls end up as statistics. In hospitals with mystery illnesses.
In relationships that feel like slow murder.
In therapy groups wondering why being good didn’t protect them.

Our Shadow Integration Workshop is for women who are done dying politely. Done turning their trauma into an inspiring Facebook post. Done pretending their rage isn’t holy.

For two hours, we’re going to descend into your shadow and wake up every not-nice part of you that’s been keeping your truth company.

No spiritual bypassing. No toxic positivity. No more f*cking gold stars for making yourself digestible.

$97 gets you the pre-recorded workshop and workbook. Because this work is as messy as the truth, and you’ll need to witness it more than once.

Go here to snag your seat.

P.S. They told you “nice” keeps you safe. But nice is what’s keeping you sick, scared, small. Nice is what’s keeping you in therapy trying to heal wounds that need rage, not reflection.

P.P.S. When nice girls snap, they don’t break. They remember. Every slight. Every betrayal. Every time they chose being liked over being alive.

P.P.P.S. Your shadow isn’t dark magic. It’s every truth you buried trying to be nice. And it’s long past time to dig them all up.

Tag Archive for: trauma coach

WOUND WORSHIP: THE COACHING INDUSTRY’S FAVORITE ADDICTION