Coach’s Journal
When Your LinkedIn Says One Thing and Your Gut Says Another
Her profile is immaculate. Consistent titles, steady promotions, a story that makes sense top to bottom. Then she gets on a call with me and says she doesn’t know why she feels so empty. Your gut usually knows before your brain catches up.
I have a client who spent three years building a career she’s very good at.
Her LinkedIn is immaculate. Consistent titles. Steady promotions. A narrative arc that makes sense to anyone who reads it from top to bottom. She looks — on paper — like someone who has it together.
And then she gets on a call with me and says: “I don’t know why I feel so empty.”
I know that feeling. I’ve lived in it.
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes not from working too hard but from working in the wrong direction. You’ve invested so much — years, identity, reputation — that leaving feels impossible. So you stay. And you optimize. And you get better at something that doesn’t fill you up anymore, if it ever did.
The LinkedIn profile becomes its own kind of trap.
I’m not saying your career history doesn’t matter. It does. But there’s a difference between a track record and a life sentence. Between “this is what I’ve built” and “this is all I’m allowed to be.”
Your gut usually knows before your brain catches up. It speaks in small, inconvenient ways: the Sunday dread that starts on Saturday afternoon, the way your energy flatlines in a role that looks great from the outside, the moment you find yourself genuinely excited about something and then immediately think “but that’s not practical.”
That inconvenience is information.
I left a stable, senior HR career during a pandemic to build something of my own. Not because I had it all figured out. Not because the timing was right. Because the gap between who I was on my profile and who I actually was had become too wide to ignore.
It wasn’t a clean break. It was messy and terrifying, and I second-guessed it constantly.
But here’s what I know now: your gut doesn’t give up on you. It keeps raising its hand, quietly, until you’re ready to listen.
Are you listening?
Raising a Son Who Watches Me Work
He doesn’t ask why I’m on my laptop early mornings and late nights. He just watches, the way kids do when they’re taking notes they don’t know they’re taking. I think a lot about what he’s learning from it.
My son doesn’t ask about my work very often.
He doesn’t sit across from me at dinner and demand explanations. He doesn’t ask why I’m on my laptop early mornings or late nights, why we only see each other on weekends. He just watches. Quietly. The way kids do when they’re taking notes they don’t know they’re taking.
That’s what I think about.
I think about what he is learning, through proximity, about what work is. What ambition looks like. What a woman does when the world demands more than is fair. Whether you can build something of your own and still be present. Whether strength and softness can live in the same person.
I don’t have a clean answer for any of it. I’m making this up as I go, like most parents are.
But I’ve made some intentional choices along the way.
I let him see me work hard — and I let him see me stop. I talk about what I do in terms he can understand: I help people figure out what they want to do with their lives. Sometimes I tell him when I had a great call, when someone had a breakthrough. I want him to know that work can mean something beyond just paying bills.
I also let him see me rest. Laugh. Be a person outside of the role. Order takeout without guilt on a Thursday night because no one wants to cook.
I don’t know what he’ll remember. I hope it’s not the missed school events. I hope it’s the conversations, the slow weekend mornings, the moments when I put the phone down and was just his mom.
But if he does remember the work — I hope what he takes from it is this: she did something that mattered to her, and she did it on her own terms.
That would be enough.
The Guilt I’m Done Apologizing For
I love my work. Not the LinkedIn version where everything is a passion and a privilege — I mean I actually love it. For a long time I felt guilty about that, because the story we tell mothers is that ambition has to be paid back in apology.
Let me say something I’ve never actually said out loud.
I love my work. Genuinely. Not in the way you’re supposed to say you love your work — not the LinkedIn version where everything is a “passion” and a “mission” and a “privilege.” I mean I actually love it. The conversations, the breakthroughs, the moment someone finally sees themselves clearly. That part lights me up.
And I used to feel guilty about that.
Because I’m a mother. And the story we tell mothers — especially solo mothers — is that every hour you give to something outside your child is an hour you owe back in apology. That ambition is acceptable only if it’s sufficiently explained, sufficiently sacrificed for. That loving your work is fine, as long as you also look tired enough from doing it.
I’m done with that story.
My son hasn’t asked me why I work so much. He’s never sat me down and demanded an explanation. But I’ve had the conversation in my head a hundred times — the one where I have to justify the early mornings, the coaching calls, the side of me that exists outside of being his mother. I’ve pre-apologized for things he hasn’t even accused me of yet.
And somewhere along the way, I realized that’s not something he needs from me. What he needs is a mother who models what it looks like to live a life that means something. To keep going even when it’s hard. To do work that matters, and to own it without shrinking.
Being a solo parent didn’t kill my ambition. It clarified it. I’m not doing this in spite of him — I’m doing it because of him. And for me. Both are allowed. Both are true at the same time.
The guilt isn’t gone. I won’t pretend it is. It still shows up on the mornings I leave early and the evenings I’m answering messages at the dinner table. But I’ve stopped treating it as evidence that I’m doing something wrong.
It just means I care. About him, and about myself.
Women aren’t supposed to need both. But we do. And it’s about time we stopped apologizing for it.
On Being the Breadwinner and Falling Apart
There is a specific kind of pressure that comes with being the person everyone is counting on — the kind where if you stop, things actually stop. I have fallen apart in bathrooms, in cars, in the middle of ordinary Tuesday afternoons.
There is a very specific kind of pressure that comes with being the person everyone is counting on.
Not the abstract, motivational kind — the real kind. The kind where if you stop, things actually stop. The bills, the groceries, the school fees, the future that you’ve promised your child through work and sacrifice and pure willpower. You are the one holding it together. So you hold it together.
And then one day — sometimes gradually, sometimes all at once — you fall apart.
I have fallen apart in bathrooms, in cars, in the middle of perfectly ordinary Tuesday afternoons. I’ve cried in ways that felt disproportionate to what triggered them, which is usually something small — a meeting that went wrong, a delayed payment, a moment of being stretched one direction too many.
The small thing is never really what you’re crying about.
There’s a lie we tell breadwinners — especially women, especially solo parents — that strength is a permanent state. That you either have it or you don’t. That asking for support means you’re losing your grip on the thing you’ve built.
I don’t believe that anymore.
Falling apart, when it happens, is not failure. It’s your body and mind doing the only honest thing left to do after a long period of carrying more than one person was designed to carry.
The capacity to hold things together is real. And it has limits. And those limits do not make you weak — they make you human.
What helped me: letting myself fall apart in small, controlled ways before the bigger one. Crying when I needed to cry. Saying “I’m not okay today” to someone who could hold it. Giving myself permission to be held up, even occasionally.
You don’t have to earn the right to fall apart. You just have to let yourself.
What I Wish Someone Had Told Me at 35
Good job. Good reviews. A clear ladder in front of me. And a quiet, persistent sense that I had missed a turn several years back without noticing. Nobody tells you that you can be on track and still be lost.
I turned 35 in the middle of what I thought was the right life.
Good job. Good performance reviews. A clear ladder in front of me. I had done everything I was supposed to do, in the order I was supposed to do it. And I felt, quietly but persistently, like I had somehow missed a turn several years back without knowing it.
Nobody tells you that you can be on track and still be lost.
Here’s what I wish someone had said to me at 35:
The discomfort you’re feeling is not ingratitude. It’s your instincts. Don’t talk yourself out of it just because your life looks fine from the outside.
Being good at your job and being fulfilled by it are different things. You can have one without the other for a long time. Not forever.
The things you keep gravitating toward in your spare time — the coaching conversations, the people problems, the “can I give you a thought on that?” — those are not hobbies. Those are signals.
You are allowed to build a career that fits who you actually are, not who you were when you started.
You will lose things in the rebuilding. Some of them will be losses you grieve. Not all of them will matter as much as you fear.
Your son is watching everything. Not to judge you — to learn what’s possible. What you model now is what he’ll believe about work, about identity, about whether a person can change course without falling apart.
The courage to change is not reckless. It’s one of the most responsible things you can do — for yourself, and for the people who are quietly watching you figure out how to live.
At 35, I had more time than I thought. And less than I assumed I could waste.
The Kind of Tired Sleep Doesn’t Fix
I slept eight hours and woke up exhausted. Not groggy — exhausted. There is a kind of tired that rest doesn’t reach, because it isn’t sitting in your body. It’s sitting somewhere underneath it.
I slept eight hours and woke up exhausted.
Not groggy — exhausted. The kind where your eyes open and your first coherent thought is already heavy. Where the prospect of getting through the day feels like something you have to gear up for, not something you move into naturally.
I’ve been there more times than I can count. It’s not a sleep problem.
There is a kind of tired that rest doesn’t reach. It lives in the layer below the physical — in the space where your sense of meaning lives, where your identity is held, where the gap between who you are and who you have to be today quietly accumulates its interest.
Clinical burnout has a definition. But this tiredness I’m describing doesn’t always meet the clinical bar. It’s subtler. It looks fine from the outside. You function. You deliver. You smile in the meeting. And underneath all of it, there is a very quiet, very persistent ache.
I know it intimately. I lived in it for years before I learned to name it.
What helps, in my experience: not more rest — but more rightness. More moments in the day that feel like you, not performance. More choices that move toward something, rather than away from everything.
This doesn’t have to be a dramatic overhaul. It can be small: one conversation that feels real. One thing you do because you want to, not because you have to. One hour that belongs entirely to you.
The tiredness doesn’t disappear overnight. But it starts to lift when you stop treating it as something to sleep off and start treating it as something to listen to.
What is the tiredness trying to tell you?
You don’t have to fix it all at once. You just have to stop pretending it isn’t there.
Permission Slips We Never Got
Are you still waiting for permission to do something bold and fail? Wait no more.
Nobody ever sat me down and handed me a permission slip.
Not for changing careers. Not for wanting more than what I had. Not for being ambitious and soft at the same time. Not for crying in a bathroom at work, not for building something new when the old thing still sort of worked.
We spend a lot of our lives waiting for permission we were never going to receive. From parents. From managers. From the version of ourselves we thought we were supposed to be by now.
So here. I’m writing us some.
Permission to want something different without being able to fully explain why.
Permission to be tired. Actually tired. Without qualifying it or making it a productivity problem.
Permission to leave a room, a job, a relationship, a version of yourself — without a perfect explanation or a better option already lined up.
Permission to not have it figured out at the age you thought you would.
Permission to be proud of yourself in a year that also broke you.
Permission to love your work and still be allowed to rest from it.
Permission to be a good mother and a complicated woman at the same time.
Permission to change your mind. Again.
Permission to be exactly as uncertain as you actually are, without performing confidence you don’t feel.
Permission to take up space — in conversations, in rooms, in your own life — without pre-apologizing for it.
You don’t need someone’s signature on any of this. But in case you’ve been waiting anyway: here it is.
You’re allowed.
On Starting Over Without Calling It That
I didn’t call it starting over. That felt too dramatic — too much like failure. So I called it a pivot. A transition. A next chapter. But the truth? I walked away from a stable senior HR career to build something from scratch, during a pandemic, as a solo parent. That’s starting over. And it was terrifying in ways I’m still learning to name.
I didn’t call it starting over.
That felt too dramatic. Too much like failure, or like I was making a statement. So I called it a transition. A pivot. A next chapter. All the words we use when we want to describe a significant break without admitting how significant it is.
But here is the truth: I started over. Completely. From a stable senior HR career to building a coaching practice from the ground up, during a pandemic, as a solo parent. That is starting over. You can use softer language if you need to, but let’s not pretend it wasn’t what it was.
Starting over is terrifying in a way that is hard to describe to someone who hasn’t done it. Not just the practical terror — the income uncertainty, the identity questions, the loss of the title that told people (and yourself) who you were. There is also a quieter terror: the fear that you left something real and might not find anything equally real on the other side.
I want to tell you what I found on the other side: more of myself.
Not in a vague, Instagram-caption way. Specifically: I found the parts of me that had been subordinated to the role for years. The natural curiosity. The genuine care for how people move through their lives. The desire to have conversations that matter and not just meetings that run over.
I also found: discomfort. Uncertainty. A learning curve I hadn’t expected. Moments of genuine doubt.
All of it was real. All of it was mine.
Starting over doesn’t erase what came before. Everything I built in those 20 years came with me — the knowledge, the relationships, the hard-won understanding of how organizations and people work. It just stopped owning me.
If you are standing at the edge of something that feels like starting over — the thing you’re afraid to call what it is — I want you to know: you don’t have to have it figured out to take the first step.
You just have to be willing to find out what’s on the other side.
I promise it’s worth it.
The Morning I Stopped Rushing
There's a version of me that used to wake up already behind. Before my feet hit the floor, my brain was already running the list. I didn't realize how exhausting that was until I stopped doing it.
There’s a version of me that used to wake up already behind.
Before my feet hit the floor, my brain was already running the list. Emails to send, calls to prep for, the thing I forgot to do yesterday that would catch up with me today. I was efficient. Productive. Perpetually five minutes ahead of something falling apart.
I didn’t realize how exhausting that was until I stopped doing it.
It wasn’t a dramatic decision. There was no retreat, no burnout breakdown (well — not that morning, at least). I just woke up one day and decided not to rush. I made my protein shake. Yes, this is my peak Pilates-Tita era. I sat with it. I watched the light change in the room. I did nothing productive for twenty minutes, and the world did not end.
Here’s what I’ve noticed since I started doing this more: my mornings now feel like they belong to me. Not to my inbox. Not to my to-do list. Not to whatever crisis is waiting on the other side of my phone screen.
We talk a lot about morning routines — the 5 AM club, the journaling, the cold showers. I’m not here to sell you a routine. I’m here to tell you that the most radical thing I’ve done recently is simply… slow down. Not because I have less to do (I don’t). But because I finally accepted that arriving everywhere breathless wasn’t a badge of honor. It was just a habit. A very expensive one.
I’m a solo parent. I work full-time. I run a coaching practice on the side. There is always something that needs doing, and there will always be something that needs doing. That used to feel like a reason to rush forever.
Now it feels like a reason to protect the quiet while I can.
My son knows I work hard. He knows this is how we make things work. He’s never once asked me to stop — not directly. But I’d be lying if I said I never wonder what he holds quietly, the things kids don’t say out loud but carry anyway. The unspoken tally of days spent not seeing each other and just not being there.
I don’t have a clean answer for that. What I do have is this: I’m learning to be more present in the pockets of time we do have. Not perfect — present. And it starts in the morning. With coffee and crepe - our thing. With slow.
You don’t have to earn the right to not rush. You just have to decide.
Love at Work
We don’t always love the work we have. On paydays we remember why we’re grateful for it — it provides for the people we love. But we are usually only seen as the work we do. Accountant. Analyst. Rarely as people.
We don't always love the work we have. Every so often though, and usually, on paydays, we are reminded of why we are grateful for the work we have. It provides for us and our loved ones.
We are usually only seen as the work we do - accountant, analyst. We want to be appreciated for who we are as people. We want to be noticed and feel loved.
If you're pretty sure others feel like this too, will you spread some love today and do a few random acts of kindness?
Some things we can do today:
Bring all your loose change and fill the vending machines at work with a few pesos for the next person.
If it looks like there will be rain today, bring an umbrella. Help a stranger with no umbrella to cross the street.
Give sincere compliments to people at work.
Look people in the eye when you greet them "Good morning" today.
Hug yourself at the end of the day and say, "I love you."
Let love spread today. This way, people get noticed. Our workplaces will, over time, be full of kindness and people who care about each other.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 19 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
The Pause
I've not posted anything in the past two months. I told my brand consultant in November, "I'm sorry I've not posted anything this week." She said, "It's your website! No sorry required." It was like a deep breath that relaxes your shoulders down. All the muscles on my face relaxed too. It felt like I had to get a permission slip to pause when the choice was entirely mine.
I've not posted anything in the past two months. I told my brand consultant in November, "I'm sorry I've not posted anything this week." She said, "It's your website. No sorry required." It was like a deep breath that relaxes your shoulders down. It felt like I had to get a permission slip to pause when the choice was entirely mine.
It was starting to become a chore. I've not made writing part of my daily mindfulness rituals. Systems are not in place to help me enjoy this on good days and power through on not-so-good ones.
Meanwhile, I have been pretty great at living in the analog world. I've taken better care of myself. I get at least eight hours of sleep every day, except last NY eve. I've been walking for a full hour in the mornings. I found some low-impact zero equipment workouts that I enjoyed. I tracked what I ate. All these things gave me more energy to be fully present with each person I spent these days with. Even when confined within the four corners of Zoom, I've been able to fill the virtual space with the energy to build beautiful connections.
Everything seems to be working just fine for me then, right? So why am I writing again now? I am a minimalist. This extends to my consumption, and now creation, of information. During this digital pause, I reflected on why I started doing this. Is that still meaningful to me? I realized it still is a crucial part of the inner work that needs to be done in my journey of becoming the future me.
No bullet points to share. Just a call to some much-deserved rest. Whatever that means for you. Give yourself a break. Strike a PAUSE.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 19 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Do I really need a Coach?
Not everyone needs a Coach. I know a lot of successful, fulfilled, and happy people who just have it all going for them right now. They have balance. They are crystal clear about their goals and purpose in life. So when do you need one?
Not everyone needs a Coach. I know a lot of successful, fulfilled, and happy people who just have it all going for them right now. They have balance. They are crystal clear about their goals and purpose in life. Just like in that Lego movie, "Everything is awesome!"
Here are a few signs you DON’T need a Coach right now:
You do not foresee any major challenges coming up in the future.
You have a clear and perfectly curated path ahead of you.
You are surrounded by your favorite team of champions who can tell you about your blindspots.
On the other hand, you may need a Coach when:
You are stuck in a rut. Dark clouds seem to be everywhere, every day.
You can't seem to find time to define your purpose and goals in life. You are always caught in the whirlwind of endless daily tasks.
You seek more balance in your life.
You can't remember the last time you accomplished something significant or felt truly alive.
You are ready to set some bold goals and kick ass in 2022!
If you believe you need something to be radically different in the coming days, having a Coach can help you get there faster. Ruminating about all the things that aren't going well now does nothing but keep you stressed.
Einstein said, "The classic definition of crazy is to continue to do things the same way and expect different results."
Once you decide you need a Coach, finding the right one is the next important step. We’ll cover that soon!
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Performance Reviews: Another HR admin work we aren't so fond of
Performance review activities are either ticked off a simple checklist or a series of battles culminating into a season finale battle at a grand arena filled with blood-thirsty spectators. Let’s change that, shall we?
It's the year-end performance review season. I can see your thought bubble. Tambak pa ang trabaho pero required to ng HR eh.
If that's how you feel about it, you are, of course, missing the point. I wore those shoes before too. I used to think these activities took me away from all the "real" work.
The performance review activities are either ticked off a simple checklist or a series of battles culminating into a season finale battle at a grand arena filled with blood-thirsty spectators. Let’s change this, shall we?
As a leader, I see it as a required pause. It is time to take an inventory of your wins and learnings as individuals, teams, and the organization as a whole. Frequently zooming out helps us assess whether we need to pivot or stay on track. The whirlwind, though, usually takes over our days. It becomes hard to find time to take a step back. How about making time for it? Consider it your “me-time.” Reflect on the past ten months and celebrate what you’ve accomplished so far. You deserve this pause.
Here are a few things that make the Performance Review season a meaningful pause for me.
Embrace it as an opportunity to celebrate my team and the work that we do. Make sure to include the discussion of your wins regularly during your team huddles. It makes taking an inventory easier when you have all the "wins" on your meeting minutes.
Identify our shortcomings, failures, and learnings. Openly discussing failures and learning from them is a great way to create a safe space for my team.
Recognize your bias. Everyone has some form of prejudice, whether we admit this or not. We must observe and label these. I also ask the people I trust to check for my blindspots here. Does it seem like I have a favorite team member?
Here are my top pet peeves as a Leader.
Copy-paste performance reviews. We know how to "find all + pronoun." and "replace all with a new pronoun." It shows how little you care about your team members. Personally, I find it quite disrespectful.
Fluffynator. Take out the fluff. Talk about specific accomplishments using agreed targets and key performance indicators. For example, when you say, "Jeng is a fantastic team player!". What does that mean exactly? How so?
This pause is part of "real" work. It may even be the most meaningful one you would do this year.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
What is Coaching?
I observed that when I talk about Coaching, many people still assume it also means Mentoring. Let's add Consulting and Therapy to the mix! What I learned from my Coach Mentors is that the main difference is in the approach.
Do I need to write another post about this? I did a Google search using the same sentence. It returned over two million results in 0.85 seconds! Talk about information overload. I am a minimalist. I will do my best to keep this as "short and sweet" as possible.
I am a member of the International Coaching Federation (ICF). Like my fellow Coaches, I often start with the ICF definition and quote that Coaching:
Is partnering with clients in a thought-provoking and creative process that inspires them to maximize their personal and professional potential
As an industry focuses on the growth of the individual
In a coaching relationship, a coach assumes the role of a "thought partner" and not of an expert.
I observed that when I talk about Coaching, many people still assume it also means Mentoring. Let's add Consulting and Therapy to the mix! What I learned from my Coach Mentors is that the main difference is in the approach. We group them into two:
Tell: Consulting and Mentoring - Consultants and Mentors offer solutions or help others by sharing their insights based on their expertise or experience.
Ask: Coaching and Therapy - Coaches and Therapists ask powerful questions to help people move forward. Therapists help people resolve challenges arising from the past and apply treatment so they can move forward. Coaches work on the assumption that each person is naturally creative, resources, and whole (I love this definition from the Co-Active Training Institute).
If there’s a toddler who heard the word "eating" for the first time and said, "What’s eating?". I could follow my lame approach above and say, "Eating is the act of ingesting something edible or not typically through the opening of the buccal cavity called the mouth".
It would be better to let the toddler watch someone eating and say, "Anak, that's eating.". The best approach, in my opinion, is to make them eat something. I highly suggest broccoli (Let them experience pain early on. We know resilience is an important life skill.). First-hand experience is the best way to learn something, in my opinion. This is why I offer free coaching sessions!
Like food, you will find that there is a diverse pool of Coaches. You would probably ask first whether Coaching is for you before you even look for the right Coach. I'll write my take on these in the new few weeks.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Overcoming Overwhelm
It's been a tough past few weeks for me. After years of mindfulness practice and being a minimalist, I thought I'm better prepared for this pandemic. News of friends and their loved ones falling ill or worse, passing on, finally wore me down.
If you're going through something similar, know that you are not alone. I hope my journal entry this week helps you.
Over the past few weeks, I had to decompress. I worried about many things like back-to-back rejections, the wave of candles or black background replacing profile pictures on social media, and friends and their family members hit by this virus. Then one Sunday, out of nowhere, well not exactly, given what I just stated, I had what I thought was a heart attack.
I was diagnosed with clinical depression way back in 2007. I finally decided to seek professional help when I started sleeping in the middle of coaching conversations. I still remember catching myself mid-sentence sharing my home address with and seeing the shocked face of my now-kumare. We burst out laughing as she said, "Hoy! Matulog ka kaya?" (Hey! Get some sleep!). It was so embarrassing.
It gets easier over time. Someone once told me, "You have depression. It doesn't have you.". I can manage it better now. I know my triggers, built a solid support system, and embraced minimalism to reduce the many stimuli that overwhelm me. The pandemic created a whole new world. I thought I was ready for chaos after everything I've gone through in life, but I guess no one's an expert on the unknown. What I thought was a heart attack was my first ever panic attack.
I'm sure we are all going through some level of anxiety or worries these days. I did a few things to pull myself out of the rut. I guess they're nothing unheard of, but I hope it helps someone, anyone, who might come across these ramblings of mine.
To be Perfectly Whelmed:
I told a few people I was not feeling well.
I phoned a friend who made sure I got squeezed into my doctor's busy day.
I sang my heart out. Music is uplifting. I am grateful that none of my neighbors complained about the noise.
I followed a strictly no-multitasking policy. I did watch Netflix while eating. I did not listen to my usual playlist or podcast while doing chores.
I even came to the point where I started closing my eyes while doing the dishes. It was a mind-blowing discovery! I realized I never really listened to the tap running and felt the texture of my dishcloth. I noticed the delicate scent of my dishwashing liquid. Guess what? When I opened my eyes, I still did a good job! All sparkly clean!
In short, I had to do two things. First, I had to admit that I needed support (the first three things on the list above). Second, I had to be fully immersed in each moment (the last two things on the list).
Let's help one another! What are the small things you do or stop doing to keep your head clear these days?
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
On Favoritism
Favoritism can be a challenge. It can create a hostile environment for everyone involved. Thoughtfully considering how you respond to what happens around you matters a great deal.
Before she had fans of her own, my younger sister has been my number one fan. She followed me everywhere and did everything I did. She copied my penmanship and wore my clothes.
I remember being forced to sing at every family party where all relatives and people I don't know would gather. I would sing reluctantly each time. Then she takes center stage and grabs everyone’s attention with her version of all the latest TV ads and then dances the Hawaii 5-0 to everyone’s delight. The crowd would erupt to deafening belly-laughs and wide-eyed amazeballs expressions. She’s a natural.
The constant comparison to her effortless confidence and hearing my own parents say I had “inferiority complex” made me dislike her so much. I remember her crying when I refused to hug her. She never got any help from me from tying shoelaces to school projects. I thought, why would she need help if she’s that good?
I was so spiteful. I made sure I poured all the sisterly love I could to our youngest sister. She was really jealous and that made me happy. She can’t have everything. At that point, it had already gone on for too long. I just can’t be the Ate she wanted or needed. I was not there for her. I made her feel that way.
I am grateful for the hardships we had to face as sisters in the coming years because it gave me an excuse to be on her side. We had to stick together. Those years gave us a chance to finally get to know each other. She has since been my rock.
Favoritism can be a challenge. It can create a hostile environment for everyone involved. Thoughtfully considering how you respond to what happens around you matters a great deal. At work and as adults, there are various ways to deal with favoritism or perceived favoritism. Having a Coach who can help you navigate through this is one I offer.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Performance Feedback: Peer Influence
Feedback is a gift. Sometimes you don’t like what you get but you receive it graciously always. We all try to assume positive intent. I did a few things differently and was glad I made an effort to work on it. If you’re anything like me perhaps these could work for you too.
In my previous organization, I was given the feedback that I needed to improve my influence among my peers. I mostly kept to my team and our deliverables. I could present well to stakeholders when I need to. I’ve never been great at big meetings with all my peers though. I am not socially awkward but I have zero skills at small talk.
Most of them would talk about current events and the latest trends. I always felt inadequate because I made a deliberate effort to avoid the news. I thought I’d inevitably hear about them from people around me anyway. I conserve my very limited energy for my priorities at the moment. I could always reach for the information I need when I need them. We live in a generation where Google is now a verb. We google everything so why bother? We even ditched our TV at home last year.
I sound like a total snob. I must have appeared that way. No one could read our minds. They only see how we behave.
Feedback is a gift. Sometimes you don’t like what you get but you receive it graciously always. We all try to assume positive intent. I did a few things differently and was glad I made an effort to work on it. If you’re anything like me perhaps these could work for you too.
Unlocking Peer Support
Seek help from mentors. Fortunately, my mentors have great charisma and my peers look up to them. I asked for their help. Apart from the tips I got from them, they also created opportunities for me to collaborate more with my peers on various projects.
Schedule regular catch-ups. I scheduled a recurring calendar invite with each peer. I am not great at big meetings but I thoroughly enjoy getting to know people through one-on-one conversations, over coffee, if possible. This gave me a chance to get to know each peer, what their priorities are, what they value and how we can best support each other. It’s always fun to discover our similarities and unique talents. If there’s a baggage counter where you could leave any perception or bias you may have with the person you are meeting, I highly recommend it. Be truly curious.
Be consistent. Relationships are built over time. In between those regular sessions, I would check-in on my peers. Whenever you can, offer some support. Cheer someone up. When you truly care about others, it will be felt and appreciated.
Talk behind their backs. Not about awful things. Let’s turn this thing around and spread kindness. Make sure you celebrate their wins by sharing it with others.
Let go. Let’s face it, you may not be everyone’s cup of tea. You will also not enjoy the company of some people. That is perfectly fine. Being authentic is important. Your wellness comes first. We can only serve others when we take good care of ourselves. Serve from your saucer. Keep that cup overflowing.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Why Am I Not Getting Promoted?
There are three key considerations when your leaders assess your readiness for promotion - Ability, Aspiration, Availability. You need to have most if not all of these to be a “Ready Now” talent.
There are three key considerations when your leaders assess your readiness for promotion - Ability, Aspiration, Availability. You need to have most if not all of these to be a “Ready Now” talent.
Ability. Are you demonstrating the skills and competencies required for the next-level role? These should be recognized capabilities. Your manager should not prepare a full-page speech to “sell” your skills during a calibration session. Be part of projects where your skills can have an impact. This is key to that elusive “visibility” they ask of you.
Aspiration. Do more than meet your own targets. Volunteer for those next-level tasks. This gives you a taste of that role too. Would you really enjoy it? Let your manager know that you aspire for a promotion and seek their feedback. Having candid conversations about your career growth and development should be part of your regular coaching sessions. Be explicit because your leaders may not know that you actually want more responsibilities which usually comes with a promotion.
Availability. Sometimes you are ready and willing to take on the next-level role but there’s no room for growth within your department. Are there other lines of business within the company where they have a need for the same position? It’s the last thing on this list because people who never stop working on their learning and development usually find the next-level role they aspire for within or outside their current businesses.
Based on personal experience, truly enjoying the work you do and focusing on continuous learning inevitably lead to growth opportunities. Promotion or lateral movement to new and exciting roles happens when you are having fun.
Book a free coaching session with me now and find out how we can co-create a career plan for you.
About Jeng
Jeng Macalagay is a Career Coach who has 18 years of work experience in various industries. Over 10 years of which were in Human Resources where she led the people strategies on Talent Management, Performance Management, and Leadership Development.
Book My Free Coaching Session with Jeng.
Be Your Own Boss in 5 Easy Steps Each Day
Your job description pretty much sums up all the things you need to do to meet your job expectations. I’m not saying you do not run the risk of losing your job if you do not meet those expectations. You just have a choice is what I am saying.
People who say they had no choice, especially those I’ve seen in movies, usually end up in jail. No, you don’t want to be there. Not here, at least.
I do not intend to preach. I am a Coach, not your mom or boss. Unless you are reading this, Patrick. I could only offer an alternative point of view based on my personal experience.
Your job description pretty much sums up all the things you need to do to meet your job expectations. I’m not saying you do not run the risk of losing your job if you do not meet those expectations. You just have a choice is what I am saying.
To clarify then, what I mean by being your own boss is being able to decide on what your priorities are and how you want to go about your day at work. At least for those hours where you have some flexibility to prioritize tasks.
5 Steps to Be the Boss
Plan for the full week. Ditch the daily To Do list especially if you end up just rewriting them over and over the following days. List down your weekly deliverables. Prioritize the items on the list. Are there things here that you can delegate, defer, or completely take out? Keep only the ones that are non-negotiable. Be ruthless in trimming down that list. Consider it self-care because it is.
Focus on the big rocks. Out of the ones that remain, which two to three are considered the big rocks? Your big rocks are the ones that make the most impact on your next-level goals. These could usually be broken down into smaller, bite-sized chips. Like that special project assigned to you, developing a skill that takes you to the next level, or connecting with your peers or mentors. Chip the rocks into steps you can do in 5 to 15 minutes. Don’t just put “Special Project” on your calendar. Write down the exact action you will be taking. For example, “2nd Follow-up with Mildred on technical specifications” or “Schedule mentoring session with Professor X”.
Stick to one sticky note. Your 3 big rock “chips” for each day should fit in one square sticky note. Prepare one sticky note for each work day for that week. These are the things you cannot end the day without doing. Now that your big rocks are taken care of, fill in the week’s calendar with all the small rocks. Your daily, weekly, monthly deliverables. Be mindful of days when most people call for urgent meetings. Do they tend to happen on Wednesdays or Thursdays and set Friday as a deadline? Leave enough buffer on those days. Fill your Mondays and Tuesdays instead.
Take action. You already have your entire week planned out. You have your daily sticky notes. All that’s left to do is DOING. Make sure that your work space is free from distractions as you focus on your sticky note tasks. Do these when you have the most energy. It’s usually the start of a work day for me.
Help others. Make sure you leave some time in your calendar to help contribute to a bigger project, help out or celebrate a peer. Help build the culture you want in the organization. It’s your small contribution to making the world a better place. I know it sounds cheesy but hey I promise you it might be the best thing on this list.
Why I Started Coaching
This is not a new career chapter. It’s an entirely new book for me. I am still working on my credentialing. I am enjoying the conversations I have with my coachees. I love the courage they bring in every session and the transformations we witness together.
Short answer: I wanted to be there for the younger me.
It has not been an easy journey. Before I got to where I wanted to be in terms of financial stability and wellness, I went through countless tough times. People who know me and my story would always say I am resilient. What I know for sure is that I got a lot of help. I had them from friends, family and mentors.
The best mentors are ex-bosses who continue to lift me up. Most though, I’ve not even met to this day. I read or listened to their books and podcasts countless times though. I summarized everything I learned, wrote them down and turned to action what I could. I tracked the impact those actions made on my daily life. Kept the ones that worked and chucked the ones that did not serve me well. It took me years to arrive at a playbook that works.
Having a Coach is a totally different experience. I thought coaching is something I’ve done in the past eighteen years working with various teams. At some point, I thought I'd done well too. It’s only been three years though since I learned what professional coaching is all about. It’s something that could have propelled me to success early on. It is vastly more powerful than what I initially envisioned.
Promise to the 20-year old me
This is not a new career chapter. It’s an entirely new book for me. I am still working on my credentialing. I am enjoying the conversations I have with my coachees. I love the courage they bring in every session and the transformations we witness together.
These past few months made me realize how Coaching could have made my younger years less painful. How I could have taken better care of myself. How I could have had ready tools in my arsenal for when things do not go as planned. I wrote a letter to my younger self to let her know that things did get better. I also made a promise to be there for the younger ones. To hold space for them. Those who may not have access to “Executive Coaches” at this point but definitely want to pivot and make the next chapter of their lives mean more. Let’s collab now!

