My nephew, who’s a motivational speaker, talked to me about “showing up.” My takeaway was the thought that showing up is both easy and difficult at the same time. It’s rarely about confidence or clarity. Most of the time, it’s about choosing presence over avoidance.
A few months ago, I had a couple scheduled for divorce mediation. Ten minutes past the start time, only one spouse was there, sitting in the lobby with his arms crossed, frustrated, and ready to explode. His soon-to-be-ex-wife was missing in action. I’ve done this long enough to know what that usually means: fear, resentment, or a last‑minute urge to bolt. Twenty minutes later, the spouse walked in. She was frantic and clearly not ready for what was ahead of her. But she was present. I escorted them into my office and when she sat down, the first thing she said was, “I almost didn’t come.”
That tiny, shaky admission shifted the entire tone of the mediation, and not because she had the right words or a plan, but because she showed up anyway.
When you show up, you give yourself a chance. When you don’t, the outcome is decided for you.
When my work is done and my clients come to my office to sign their settlement agreement, it’s never a happy occasion. From the very first time, over 15 years ago, when the husband had tears rolling down his cheeks while his signature was being notarized, to just last week, when the wife was literally wailing in the lobby, the display of emotions can be uncomfortable for all of us. But what is remarkable is that in spite of the sadness, these people show up. They participate in their own stories.
Showing up can look like:
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Walking into a room you’d rather avoid.
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Answering a phone call you’ve been dreading.
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Sitting down to talk even when your head is pounding and your palms are sweaty.
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Saying, “I’m here,” even if you don’t know what will happen next.
It’s the smallest action with the biggest ripple. And it matters because clarity doesn’t come from hiding. Relationships don’t repair themselves in silence. And progress requires participation, even if that participation isn’t perfect.
What happened with that couple who got started 20 minutes late? They didn’t solve everything in one session. But they left with a plan, a calmer tone, and a willingness to keep going. None of that would have happened if she stayed home convincing herself she “wasn’t ready.”
I’ve watched hundreds of people walk into my office carrying fear, anger, heartbreak, or regret. And still, they show up. They sit down. They participate in their own story. They remind me every day that showing up is an act of self‑respect.
So, if you’re facing a difficult conversation, a life-changing decision, or simply the unknown, it’s never a good idea to wait until you’re ready. Give yourself the same respect that my clients demonstrate. Show up for your life, even if you know you’re not ready.
