The Toxic Coaching Industry Almost Broke Me—Here’s the Truth
I used to watch women online type “❤️” and “hell yes!” in the comments—like their affirmation alone could summon success. Behind the filters and ring lights, there was this frantic energy: sell faster, shout louder, pretend harder.
The toxic coaching world I experienced didn’t feel empowering. It felt incestuous—everyone buying and selling to each other in a closed loop of fear, urgency, and unspoken collapse.
If you weren’t bragging about a $50K month, a flight to Bali, or Stripe notifications pinging your phone while you sipped a matcha in silk pajamas, you were quietly treated like a failure. Or worse: like you didn’t belong. I kept attracting people who were just as insecure—or more lost—than I was.
And what haunted me most wasn’t the programs I bought.
It was the realization that I was expected to perform healing while still hemorrhaging inside.
This post is less of a “to-do” and more of confessional of what I do and why I do it differently than others.
Navigate this reflection:
The False Light– What I Was Sold
They said they were building empires, but behind the scenes, they were barely holding things together.
I remember one guy I was networking via LinkedIn with who told me he was a social media strategist. What he didn’t mention—until much later—was that he was still running a cleaning business just to pay his bills. That wasn’t shameful. What was shameful was the illusion he sold instead.
This is what the toxic coaching industry looks like: people calling it “collaboration” when they really just wanted access to my clients. Coaches promising transformation but never actually telling you how they built anything.
Courses stacked with PDFs and high-energy Zooms, but no real guidance—just recycled hype, urgency, and vague permission slips wrapped in buzzwords.
What I was sold wasn’t clarity. It was the idea that if I looked the part, posted enough, and bought the right mentor, I could finally feel whole.
But the truth was this:
I wasn’t failing.
I was suffocating inside someone else’s fantasy.
The Emotional Toll – What It Did to Me
No one warned me how much this industry feeds on insecurity—especially if you’re earnest.
I didn’t just feel like I was behind. I felt like I was defective.
My trauma made me unmarketable.
Certainly my lack of testimonials meant I wasn’t trustworthy.
Like if I wasn’t crying on camera, bragging about five-figure launches, or “raising my rates because my energy shifted,” I was doing it wrong. So, what…try to psyche myself up with more and more “aspirational messages.”
Instead, I started to internalize the message:
Maybe I’m not built for success.
Maybe I’m too intense. Too honest. Too raw.
I contorted myself. Tried to be softer, flirtier, more mystical.
Tried to copy the confidence of women who were visibly unraveling behind the scenes.
Tried to feel at home in Facebook groups, Twitter threads, and Slack channels that all promised community—but punished anyone who broke the performance script.
And worst of all?
I lost trust in my own voice.
Next, I started filtering everything I said through, “Will this make me look credible?”
I wasn’t building a business anymore.
I was building a persona—just to survive in a room full of curated chaos.
The Break Point – When the Mask Cracked
There was the luxury queen with the lipstick affirmations.
The spiritual brand coach who sold magic but delivered spreadsheets.
The hype strategist with the wet hair, F-bombs, and six-figure flexes.
And the elegance influencer who taught you how to sit at a table—but never how to face yourself in the mirror.
Each of them promised empowerment.
Each of them told me that confidence could be purchased, styled, or summoned.
And for a while, I believed them.
I watched one coach coach from a hotel lobby, whispering passive-aggressive jabs at the staff while pretending to hold space. Another bragged about her rising income while quietly emailing me to reuse my testimonial—without asking. Another claimed to be “spirit-led,” but seemed to shift her business every lunar cycle, always telling clients that more investments meant more abundance.
What broke me wasn’t the glamor.
It was the discrepancy.
Between what they said and how they moved.
Between what separates what they sold and what they modeled.
That weird liminal space between the women they claimed to empower—and the wounded girls they kept disoriented in a spiral of spending.
That’s when I realized:
This wasn’t coaching.
This was curated coercion.
Wrapped in velvet, incense, and strategy boards.
And I wasn’t just over it.
I was done betraying myself to belong.
When Coaches Know It’s Manipulative—and Do It Anyway
What’s hard to admit—but necessary to say:
Some coaches know exactly what they’re doing.
- They use testimonials as props, not proof.
- Teach you to withhold the how—to create dependency, not discernment.
- Celebrate the women who convert, and quietly abandon the ones who question, grieve, or take longer to trust.
I remember one coach admitting that the income screenshots were mostly for “social proof”—because if people think you’re successful, they’ll stop asking questions.
Another encouraged her clients to use FOMO and spiritual guilt in their sales copy—because it “activates urgency.”
And almost every program I joined had an unspoken rule:
Never question the model. Just raise your rates and post more selfies.
This isn’t bitterness.
It’s discernment.
And it’s time we stop mistaking spiritualized sales tactics for empowerment.
For the Entrepreneur Still in It – Why It’s So Easy to Get Caught
You might not even realize how much you’ve adapted.
You just know something feels… off.
If you’re reading this while still in it—the webinars, the Slack groups, the coaching containers with polished brand decks and weekly “energy audits”—I want you to know: I see you.
Because I was you.
You’re not stupid.
You’re not gullible.
Trust and know this fact: You’re not broken for wanting to believe.
You’re just trying to build something real in an industry that rewards appearances more than substance—and punishes honesty if it doesn’t come with a stripe of luxury.
You were trained—by social media, by sales pages, by endless livestreams—to follow the leader.
To believe that if she’s louder, richer, prettier, or more polished… then she must be right.
You were told to “invest before you’re ready.”
To “raise your rates because energy.”
To “show up every day”—even when showing up meant ignoring your own nausea.
And no one told you the part where:
It takes time to build an audience.
You can be deeply qualified and still invisible online.
You might be growing, but the algorithm might not reward you.
The people who shout the loudest often have the deepest financial chaos.
And healing your trauma is not the same as branding it.
None of that was in the $500 course.
So if you’re still waiting for your “breakthrough,” still wondering if you’re the problem—this is your soft interruption.
You’re not failing.
You’re waking up.
And there is another way.
The New Standard – What I Refuse to Repeat
I had no business doing business coaching.
No business writing copy for programs I didn’t believe in.
No business pretending I knew how to build something when what I was really doing was running from myself.
I wasn’t building a business.
I was building a performance—modeled after the women I thought had the answers.
And all it did was bury the truth I needed to face:
I couldn’t lead anyone until I stopped abandoning myself.
So I stopped trying to “scale.”
I stopped trying to sound impressive.
I stopped buying new tools and started facing the wreckage of what I’d already lived through.
And then—I rebuilt.
Slowly. Quietly. Truthfully.
So…how did I do it?
Through hundreds of hours reading psychology articles, studies and books.
Listening to people instead of trying to project or perform perfection.
Learning to sit with my grief instead of monetizing it.
Wrestling with my shame instead of branding over it.
Healing the parts of me that were taught to confuse manipulation for strategy, silence for professionalism, and urgency for alignment.
This wasn’t easy.
It wasn’t viral.
It wasn’t a glamorous comeback.
But it was real.
And now I coach from that place—not to fix people, not to funnel them into high-ticket packages, but to walk beside them as they untangle the same web I once got caught in.
If you’re still in it—still clawing your way through curated healing and five-step funnels—I want you to know something:
You’re not behind.
You’re just ready to begin.
For real this time.
I know what it means to rebuild—not just a business, but a self.
And what I teach now doesn’t come from strategy boards.
It comes from bone-deep lived experience.
How My Coaching Looks Like Then (vs. Now)
| Old Toxic Coaching Model | New Trauma-Informed Coaching Standard |
|---|---|
| Urgency-based launches | Value-based enrollment |
| Energy talk over structure | Trauma-aware strategy with real scaffolding |
| Selling identity | Supporting integration |
| Performing healing | Holding space for imperfection |
| Borrowed brand language | Rooted, evolving personal voice |
| “Raise your rates” on demand | Pricing grounded in readiness, reach, and real trust |
This isn’t about doing the opposite of what they did.
It’s about doing what I actually believe—with clarity, honesty, and space to breathe.
I forgive myself for believing the wrong people.
And I bless the version of me who needed to.
Still Wondering If Your Coaching Was Toxic? These Questions Might Help.
Q: How do I know if I’m in a manipulative coaching space?
A: If urgency is framed as alignment, if questions are deflected with “your energy is off,” or if transparency is punished, you’re not being supported—you’re being controlled. Real coaching makes you braver, not smaller.
Read this post: Trauma-Informed or Trauma-Performing? How to Tell the Difference
Q: Can you actually grow a coaching business without hype?
A: Yes—but it’s slower. It requires trust-building, consistent service, and healing the parts of you that believe visibility requires performance. It’s possible. I’m doing it.
Q: Why don’t people talk about this more?
A: Because calling it out threatens the business models of people who built their brand on bypassing. Because the people most hurt are often too disoriented to speak up. Because it’s easier to rebrand than to reckon.
Read this post: You Outgrew Your Personal Brand. Now What?
Related reads if you’re in this reckoning phase:
If you’re in the thick of unlearning, these reads might give you language for what you’ve been carrying.
Final Thoughts: If You’re Ready to Build From Truth, Not Trauma
This post wasn’t meant to burn bridges.
It was meant to name what too many of us have been afraid to say out loud.
If you’ve been sold a dream that turned into a trap… if you’ve been told to “just show up” while your nervous system was screaming… if you’ve ever sat in a group coaching call wondering why everyone looks empowered but feels hollow—this is your confirmation.
You’re not crazy.
You’re not weak.
What is happening now is that you are just waking up.
And if you want to build something real from here—something that reflects your values, not your survival strategies—I’d be honored to walk with you.
Work with me, Denise G. Lee – Together, we’ll untangle the deeper patterns holding you back and create clear, practical strategies that match you. No hype. No formulas. Just honest, personalized support.
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And just in case no one’s reminded you lately:
Leadership isn’t about being perfect.
It’s about being present. Being willing.
Showing up with your scars, not just your strengths.
That’s what makes it powerful.
That’s what makes it real.
