I Made $100K/Year Selling People Poison

This is the story of why I left my 6-figure bartending job to go full time as a coach.

(Preface: This is not a post trying to convince you to quit drinking, so you can relax about that. You do you. I myself still enjoy the occasional glass of vintage champagne or upper-mid-shelf bourbon. But the reality is that despite any potential health benefits of some alcohol consumption, alcohol is, in fact, a poison. And for over 5.5 years, I made a lot of money selling it to people.)

When the pandemic hit, I experienced the same emotions as pretty much everyone else: fear, loneliness, anxiety, confusion, uncertainty, disorientation.

The first week or two of lockdown, I dove head first into indulging in ALL my favorite vices: sleeping in, binge watching TV, eating nonstop, scrolling mindlessly on my phone, day drinking, getting high... I wasted a lot of time.

But it didn't take me long to see that this wasn't going to end soon, and living like this was NOT good for me. I had a serious talk with myself, and I decided I was going to make the best of this time I'd been gifted. I was going to do something valuable with it.

After I set a schedule for myself--and stuck to it--I found myself proactively thinking about the future. What would happen when the restrictions lifted and I had to go back to work at the restaurant?

It wasn't long after posing this question that an overwhelming realization hit me: If I went back to bartending at the end of it all and didn't have a plan for what I was going to do "next," it would destroy my soul.

But what else would I do? I considered various possibilities, like going back into education, enrolling in law school, and starting my own copyediting business.

Deep down, though, I already knew what I wanted to do. I always know. I'd known since I was 25. I was just afraid to admit it. To myself, let alone aloud to anyone else.

I wanted to be a life coach.

Saying that felt scary, intimidating. Who the hell did I think I was to coach anyone on their life? Yet, I couldn't silence that voice that kept nudging me in that direction.

I knew that if I were to act on this nudge, I had to first hire my own coach. I had to experience it firsthand for myself.

One day the owner of the restaurant I was working at invited me for a socially distanced hike. She was making efforts to check in on all her core staff. "How are you doing?" she asked.

I told her how I'd pivoted from indulgent despair to a routine and how it had forced me to think about the future. I was afraid to tell her about my vision because I didn't want her to think I was ungrateful for the years of a highly lucrative, flexible job she'd provided me, but I found myself confessing to her anyway:

"I want to hire a coach. I believe I'm meant to use my words, my background in education, all the tools I have gathered over the years in the various professions I've worked in to serve people powerfully. I just don't know exactly what that looks like, and I want someone to help me. I know that when this ends, if I haven't done something to move myself forward, I will regret it."

Rather than object to me wanting to quit bartending for her, she said, "My friend's sister is a life coach. I'll put you two in touch. She's amazing."

And that is how I met my first ever coach, Laura.

After our first call, I knew without a doubt that I wanted to do for others exactly what Laura was doing for me: guiding them to follow their own Inner Knowing.

Within 3 months of working with Laura, I finished my first chapbook of poetry (something I'd planned to do since college), launched my own business, and signed my first client.

More importantly, though, how I was showing up every day changed. I became a better listener. I had difficult conversations with more grace. I had a more positive outlook on life. And I held myself in integrity with my word, to others and myself.

Still, I continued to bartend. Because the money was incredible, the schedule was flexible, and my boss and coworkers were amazing. (Remember how amazing my boss had been to introduce me to Laura in the first place?)

I also got to practice "coaching" on the job. I often joked that I was the spiritual bartender (pun intended). I wouldn't make small talk just to make small talk, but if you wanted to pour out your heart, I was there for it. And people gravitated toward it.

Finally, though, at the end of last year, I knew it was time to go all in as that coach.

Since I began coaching full time, an overwhelming majority of my clients have been in the same place I was in before I hired Laura. A space of transition coupled with fear.

Standing on the edge of knowing that something has to change--or else it will slowly eat away at them forever.

And while I love coaching people 1:1 through these big transitions (moves across the country, career changes, breaking self-destructive habits, lasting weight reduction journeys), I've also come to see the value in being a part of a community of people on a similar journey.

That's why I created my next group coaching program, If I'm Being Honest. To guide 8 individuals together through the process of slowing down, getting quiet, and listening to their own Inner Voice. The one that knows they have to make this change in order to live as their most authentic selves.

Because that is medicine. And I would rather make $30k/year selling people that medicine than $100k selling them poison.

Four people have already said yes to this journey. If you hear even the slightest whisper that you might be one of the other 4, contact me here. We'll set up a call to see where you're at and make sure this is the absolute right fit for you, and you for it.

There's ZERO PRESSURE to say yes after the call. Remember, I only sell medicine these days, no poison ;)

With Fierce Love,

Chazz