When I was eight, I asked myself my first coaching question: "Why is Mr. Van Daasdonk so angry with me?" He was my teacher in year 4, and I had just discovered the word "demand." I didn't fully understand its meaning, but I knew adults often got what they wanted when they used it. So I said, "I demand to continue working on this project." Mr. Van Daasdonk didn't like that and looked shocked and angry. He responded, "Demand? You have nothing to demand and you're going to the hallway."
In the hallway, I felt deep shame. What had I said? What did "demand" really mean? It clearly wasn't the magic word I thought it was. Did I often misuse words? Had I embarrassed myself before? What did others think of me?
...
And so began my interest in people: why did they say what they said? Or sometimes say one thing and do another? I'm sure I'm not the only one who loves to observe human behaviour behind a fresh cup of coffee in my favorite coffee bar.
I soon discovered theater, where I could turn my observations into humor, drama, and great stories.
At the theater school in Amsterdam, every conversation was about human behavior. Why does Hamlet use that particular word instead of a synonym? Why do the three sisters in Chekhov's play talk for hours about wanting to go to Moscow but never go? Why is this actor's performance unconvincing? What thoughts must Medea have to commit such a desperate act?
In my private life, it was much the same. I was so trained in analyzing human behavior that I sensed relationship breakups, arguments, or betrayals coming, but no one believed me until they happened. My mother would say, "You have my intuition."
As I gained more experience as a theater maker, I learned to articulate behavior with words. Intonation, body language, micro-expressions—it was all scientifically validated. I now believe intuition is the ability to read people without knowing the exact words.
Over the years, I became more fascinated with unraveling human behavior. What makes one person successful and another not? What mindset underlies this?
My surroundings quickly noticed my knack for analyzing people. At 27, I coached colleagues on managing change and workload. By 32, I coached theater makers on dealing with difficult actors and worked with ING managers and team leaders on diversity in the workplace. I helped Nyenrode New Business School students collaborate better. As a leader, I often mediated conflicts. When I became an artistic director at 40, colleagues sent all the 'difficult' student conversations my way. Nine out of ten times, the student needed a good talk about their identity, dreams, and how to handle pitfalls or negative thought patterns.
Wherever I worked, my ability to coach people into becoming better versions of themselves quickly became a valuable asset. I genuinely enjoy helping people break free from negativity and routines, and empowering them. It makes me happy and gives me a sense of value.
...
When Mr. Van Daasdonk asked what we wanted to be when we grew up, I thought about it for days. Firefighter or police officer didn't appeal to me. Maybe a detective, to solve murders. But wasn't that too dangerous? Being famous seemed great, but spending my whole life on stage? I tried to imagine a profession that would still be meaningful when I was very old. After a week, I knew: I wanted to be famous first, and in the second half of my life, I wanted to be a wise old guru.
I'm now in the second half of my life.
It's time.