Coaches say it to us in a very particular tone of voice. Quiet. A little apologetic. The tone people use for confessing something.
“I have to warn you… I’m not techy.”
We’ve heard it hundreds of times, and it lands on us the same way every time: like someone apologizing for not being fluent in a language nobody ever taught them.
So this week, we’re making it official. Amnesty. Full pardon, no questions asked. Turn in your tech guilt at the door and let’s talk about what’s actually true.
Nobody leaves certification believing they’re bad at tech. The belief gets installed later, usually on a specific afternoon.
You know the afternoon. You sat down to “just set up the website.” Thirty-one browser tabs later, a tutorial voice said “now simply configure your DNS,” and something in you quietly concluded: other people can do this. I can’t. I’m not a tech person.
Here’s what actually happened that afternoon. You ran into a task list dressed up as a talent test. And you graded yourself on the wrong rubric.
Because “techy” isn’t a gift some people are born with. We build websites every week, and we can tell you what the skill actually is: a high tolerance for error messages, plus a lot of repetitions. That’s the whole superpower. We chose this work on purpose, the same way you chose coaching on purpose. Different callings. Only one of them is yours.
You already know this pattern from your training. A circumstance shows up, and if we’re not careful, we treat it like a verdict instead of a condition. “The website is confusing” quietly becomes “I’m not capable.” One is a fact about a Tuesday. The other is a story, and not a true one.
You are the same person who got through certification, who sits with other humans in their hardest moments and holds steady. That person is not going to be permanently defeated by a settings menu. The settings menu is just not your job.
Here’s the exercise we walk coaches through, and it changes the temperature in the room every time. Launching your practice requires two very different lists.
List one is yours, and only yours. Your vision. Your voice. Your story. The conversations, the talks, the brave outside work that actually brings clients. Nobody can hand these off, and nobody would want to. This list is why you certified.
List two just needs to get done by someone. Domain. Hosting. DNS. SSL. Backups. Photo sizing. Form testing. About 35 steps in all, and here’s the sentence we’d like you to read twice: someone does not have to mean you. A plumber isn’t “bad at teeth” because they don’t do their own dental work. They’re just clear about which list is theirs.
“I’m not techy” was never a flaw to fix before you’re allowed to begin. It’s information about which list is which.
Draw a line down the middle. Left side: Mine. Right side: Someone’s. Then go through everything between you and “open for business” and sort honestly.
The left column is your actual to-do list, and we suspect you’ll find it shorter and braver than the list you’ve been avoiding. The right column? That’s not a wall anymore. It’s a hand-off pile.
If you want to see everything that belongs in that right column, our FREE Coach Website Launch Guide lays out all 39 steps in plain order, whether you tackle them yourself, hand them to a helpful nephew, or hand them to us. Moving that list off coaches’ plates is, quite literally, what we’re for.
Inspiration without action is merely entertainment. So: paper, line, two columns. Tonight.
Amnesty granted. Get Going.
