Today, I will share the story of the coaching session that frustrated me the most in my 20+ years of coaching.
It was a few months after my husband got well.
My mom’s friend asked me if I could receive her relatives for coaching. She explained to me that their son's leg was very swollen and had been swollen bigger and bigger for months.
I categorically refused and referred them to the doctor. I'm not a doctor.
However, considering that my husband was healed entirely, everyone thought it was a miracle, and the belief was that I cured him.
After a few days, she called me again and begged me to talk to her cousin on the phone to calm her down and give her hope. Then my mother called me to push me and beg me.
Ok, I agreed to phone talk.
I told the desperate woman to take her son to the doctor. To control the blood, heart, kidneys, flow of blood vessels, liver, etc.
She told me they had done all that with several specialists, but they couldn't find the cause of the leg swelling. She begged me to take him in and talk to him because she had no idea what to do anymore.
Ok, I agreed to receive them without any promises, just to talk, with the idea of comforting and encouraging them a little.
She came with her husband and the son. I will call him M in this text.
M was a tall and big guy. He was 19 years old at the time. His right leg was so swollen that he could only wear beach slippers three sizes bigger.
I brought him into the coaching room while his parents waited in the admissions office.
When he entered, M sat semi-recumbently on a comfortable sofa. It was not the position of someone sick but the position of "relaxing and laziness." His look said, "I'm bored; I can't wait for it to be over."
The session started badly from the start.
The essence of coaching is not to tell the client what to do but to ask him so-called "powerful questions" that help him better understand and define his situation. In this way, he arrives at the best possible answers for himself and can find his authentic way, which makes it easiest and best to move from problem to solution.
I briefly explained to him what and how I work and then moved on to questions.
He answered all my questions with body language that meant "I don't know"—he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and sank even deeper into the sofa. He seemed to me as if he was terribly bored by all this and too lazy to open his mouth and say something.
The session lasted 45 minutes, during which I tried everything possible to get at least one word out of him. I asked different questions and offered alternative answers, such as "Some people would answer this question in this way, and some in that way... some people would feel y in x situation..."
I explained various ideas and concepts to him, intending to get him started. Nothing. No reaction.
At the end of the session, I told him that I was sure we agreed that this was pointless and that there was no need for him to come again.
That's when he spoke for the first time, finally sat up on the sofa, and told me clearly that he wanted us to continue.
Hmmm, this really surprised me, so I asked him: Why?
He told me that he found it very interesting.
Now, he and his parents have switched places.
I explained that, unfortunately, I could not help them because M was not cooperating. Then they told me their story:
During the war in the 90s, they escaped from Croatia. They bought a house and some land in a village in Central Serbia and started growing vegetables. They worked hard and developed an excellent business. They supplied vegetables to a large number of families in a nearby town.
They had three sons. M was the oldest. When he was in elementary school, he was the best student in the school. He went to all inter-school competitions as a school representative. He was equally brilliant in natural and social science subjects. He had an IQ far above average.
When he was about to enroll in high school, he wanted to enroll in a school that would best prepare him for college, and his parents insisted that he enroll in an agricultural school. They felt that M was the eldest son who should inherit the business they had started.
He did not manage to finish his first year of high school. He rarely went to school, and almost all his grades were insufficient. The agony with the school continued, so when he came to me, he attended the third year of the "evening agricultural school," which he did not go to again. He accumulated insufficient grades and unexcused absences. He was on the verge of being kicked out of that school.
He lay in bed and played video games all day long. His parents were turning off the internet to force him to get up and go to school or help with their growing business. They were desperate because their son had become lazy and had no responsibility.
They cried and begged me not to "throw him away" to give him another chance...
I couldn't refuse them. I agreed to try to do something.
I held two more identical "useless" sessions, during which M, deeply relaxed on the sofa, "shows no interest in participating." I told him about life, youth, possibilities, ideas, music, girls, relationships, sports, joy, and gratitude.
I heard only silence and saw a guy with a disinterested expression—a stone face—with no reaction. It was so frustrating for me.
Despite the tears and pleas, I decided the fourth session would be the last.
Apart from being frustrated, I was sorry that his parents were wasting time traveling to Belgrade and money for sessions. They insisted on paying even though there was no progress because they wanted to pay for my time.
I felt really terrible about it all. I firmly decided that this would be our last session.
I started the fourth session with the following words: M, this is our last session, and my decision will not change. As far as I'm concerned, we don't need to sit here for 45 minutes; we can finish right now.
M said: But I really want to come to you.
I asked him: Why do you come to me? What is the goal of our meetings?
Reclining on the sofa, he immediately answered: Well, we must figure out why my leg is swelling.
Completely unplanned, I heard myself telling him: We have achieved that goal. You don't have to come for that anymore. I understood.
For the first time since he arrived, he straightened his back, looked at me with interest, and asked: Would you share it with me?
I said: Yes, but I have to warn you that you might not like what you're about to hear. Namely, you can expect your other leg to start swelling soon.
Now he became even more interested: Why?
I asked him: M, why do you need a leg? Physically, for what serves your leg to you? You don't go anywhere, you don't move, you lie in bed all day and play a game. And metaphorically, what is the next step you want to take in life? What is your plan and goal? For what do you need the leg, M?
I really hadn't planned on telling him this. I was surprised by my tone and the text I spoke. But I was not sorry because I sincerely believed I had spoken the purest truth.
From that moment, everything changed.
M straightened up entirely and started talking. He talked nonstop for more than two hours. He told me about his successes in elementary school, his wishes and plans for the future, his desire to study, how everyone at the agricultural school looked stupid to him, how he knew more about some things than his professors, and how everything in him fought against that school and the way of life that followed it.
Then he told me about the video game he was playing. It was the only thing he felt successful at. He qualified for the big Balkan competition that will be held in four days, but he doesn't have 50 euros to pay the registration fee.
He told me how much our sessions meant to him and what he learned from me.
I was stunned. I thought he was not listening to me at all, and he remembered every word and thought about everything I told him.
I asked him if he really wanted to participate in the video game competition. "Oh, yes," he replied.
I said I would take care of it, but I expected him to promise me he would start living. He promised me.
After that, I held a session with his parents, during which they realized their priority was their son's health and happiness.
They decided to support him in his dreams.
They paid him the registration fee for the competition, and M won the first prize of 5k euros.
The swelling completely disappeared within a week.
In the meantime, M graduated from university.
Every year, he sends me a touching message for my birthday.
“For what do you need the leg, M? is the question that changed my life,” - M likes to tell me.
I am really happy for him!
I'm always eager to hear your stories. Think, what are you forbidding yourself? Where do you feel held back? Are you forbidding something to someone "for their good," or is someone forbidding you?
I look forward to your stories, comments, questions and likes.
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Great article Mladena, sometimes I think about where we are today and wonder what M's outcome would have been a generation or two generations ago when medicine treated the body like a machine only (of course, no video games either). Also, thank you for recommending Mack's newsletter, I just signed up and am looking forward to learning from him.
All the best,
Tom
First Mladena, thank you so much for the Backstage Pass mention. You are such a wonderfully supportive friend.
I loved your story and congrats on making such a breakthrough for M! You stuck with it and finally found a way to reach him and that made all the difference!
It’s funny, everything I am reading on Substack seems to be pointing in the same direction: Keep going, stick with it!