What Louise Taught Me About Story, Strength, and Showing Up Anyway

What imposter syndrome taught me — and how a hotel check-in reminded me why this work matters.

SPARK Insights by Coach Reg — Issue #0038

First, to those of you who replied last week with bold honesty:
“I want to change my story.”
“I’m ready for a plot twist.”
Thank you.
You said the quiet part out loud — and that means you’re already in motion.

We’re building something together.
An experience. Not a class.
A space for people to rewire what’s been running the show.
And the irony? I’ve been bumping up against my own imposter story while preparing it.

Let me be real with you a moment…

What does it mean when you get imposter syndrome…
…about leading a session that’s supposed to abolish imposter syndrome?

That’s been the echo in my head this week.
 Who am I to teach this?
What if no one gets a breakthrough?
What if I’m not enough?

And here’s the thing: I’m not surprised by any of it.

This is the cycle. It shows up right before the moment we decide to own something bigger.

It doesn’t mean stop.
It means step in — anyway.

That’s what this experience is about.
Not denying the fear. Not outrunning the questions.
But standing inside the discomfort long enough to meet what’s true underneath it.

Which brings me to Louise.

Arlene and I spent a long weekend golfing up in Milwaukee and visiting our dear friends Brandon and Leah and their daughter, Kaiya.

When we checked into our hotel, we met Louise — one of the kindest, most present humans I’ve ever encountered at a front desk.

Louise greeted us with warmth and energy, even though she sat in one of those chair-walkers used for mobility support.

She stood up to serve us. Took her time. Treated us like we were VIPs, even though we’d stayed there before.

We saw her every day of our trip. And on the last day, I asked her a question:
“What makes you so happy?”

That led to a 10-minute story.

She told me about her husband, who passed away young.
About her daughter, who’s faced serious health struggles.
About why, even at her age, she still has to work.

And after pouring out this story of grief, love, and quiet resilience, she looked at me and asked,
“What made you stop and listen?”

I said, “I’m a professional listener. But more than that, I just really care about people’s stories. I am inspired by your joy and positivity.”

Later that night, Arlene had the beautiful idea to bring her flowers.
Not for thanks. Not for recognition.
But because someone who gives that much light deserves to have a little reflected back.

Here’s what struck me about Louise:

She doesn’t want to be working.
She shouldn’t have to be working.

But she chooses to show up kind, positive, and full of joy — anyway.

She is living a story.

One that includes hardship. But also one she is actively writing with how she chooses to be.

And that, my friend, is the essence of this entire upcoming experience.

It’s not about learning a new tactic.
It’s about remembering something true.
It’s about creating the space for clarity to meet you — when you’re ready to stop fighting and start listening.

So today, just pay attention.

Who’s the Louise in your life?
Who’s showing up with light when they have every reason not to?

And more importantly:
How will you choose to show up — even if you're not where you want to be yet?

If you haven’t raised your hand yet to say, “I’m ready to change my story,” now’s the time.

I’ll be sending details this week to those who already did.

Looking forward to sharing what’s next.

— Coach Reg