When “How’s Everything Going?” Is Just Not So Simple

_{Photo by Kevin Fitzgerald on Unsplash}

It often happens when you least expect it. The house is full of warmth and chatter, you are surrounded by people you love. Fairy lights still cling to their sparkle from Christmas Day, plates of leftover roast and half-eaten mince pies are scattered on the table. Someone has put on a board game they can’t quite remember the rules for, and laughter drifts through the hum of conversation. You feel happy.

You are standing by the kettle, topping up mugs, when your aunt, the one who always seems to notice more than others, looks over and asks, “So, how’s everything going?” She says it lightly, but her eyes linger. You smile, pour the tea, say that work is busy but fine, that everything is ticking along. There is a clinking of spoons, a nod, and the moment passes unnoticed by everyone but you.

Later, when the chatter has softened and people have gone to hunt for their coats, the house feels quieter than before. You sit with your cup and notice the familiar tug in your chest returning. Nothing is wrong exactly, but something feels slightly off centre. It is as if you have drifted a few steps away from yourself over the past years without realising it. You think, just for a second, about the life you pictured once and how it sits beside the one you have now.

The mind starts its usual dance. You remind yourself that you should be grateful. Other people have it harder. You tell yourself that this is just what adulthood feels like. But beneath the reasoning there is a quieter truth. Perhaps it is not about wanting more. Perhaps it is simply about wanting something that feels more like you. Why did this innocuous question from your aunt unsettle you, maybe even make you a little defensive?

This is where coaching can offer something gentle. Not a fix or a blueprint, but a place to pause. A place to listen to yourself and your thoughts. To separate what is habit from what is genuinely yours. To hear what your life has been whispering while you were busy holding it all together.

Coaching is not therapy; you do not need to be broken to benefit from it. Exploring this flicker of defensiveness that crept up when your aunt asked the question can be a powerful starting point. Sometimes change does not begin with huge, insurmountable issues. It begins with a gentle invitation to nudge your brain out of autopilot. It starts in a quiet kitchen on Boxing Day, with a half-hearted laugh and a question asked out of love. A moment so ordinary it almost goes unnoticed, yet something deep within begins to stir. Coaching is giving a voice to what wants to be heard.