I Never Thought I’d Be That Person

For most of my life I’ve told people I’m not consistent.

It wasn’t something I was embarrassed to admit. I’d say it in passing. Lightly. Casually. Like it was just a personality trait, a throwaway line. I’d sign up for something new—usually a gym or a class or a program—and right away I’d say it. I’m excited but I’m not really consistent. That was my script.

And it’s wild how long I let that sentence define me.

Because underneath it was something I didn’t want to say out loud. That I didn’t trust myself. That I didn’t believe I could stick with anything. That I saw myself as someone who always starts strong and fades quietly. Someone who means well but doesn’t follow through. Someone who breaks promises to herself and then shrugs it off.

It sounds small but it’s not. That belief leaks into everything: it shows up in your work, in your goals, in your relationships, in how you talk to yourself, and in what you think you’re really capable of.

For a long time, I thought there were two kinds of people. People who are naturally disciplined and people who are not. And I decided that I just wasn’t one of the lucky ones. I had too much going on. My schedule was unpredictable. My life didn’t have the kind of structure that those consistent people had—the ones who wake up early and go to sleep on time and do things like meal prep, finish projects, and show up without needing to talk themselves into it.

I was not that person.

Until something shifted not too long ago. I wish I had some dramatic story to explain what changed. I don’t. I just got tired. Tired of the voice in my head always letting me off the hook. Tired of feeling like I was living just slightly below the version of myself I wanted to be. Tired of carrying this quiet shame every time I flaked on something I said I would do.

So, I made a quiet decision to start showing up. Just for me. Not for Instagram. Not for accountability. Just to see what would happen if I kept going.

And I still don’t know how to explain it but I kept going. I’ve never been able to say that before. But this time I did. I kept showing up. Through tired days. Through days I didn’t want to. Through days when it seemed that nothing was working. I didn’t do it perfectly but I didn’t disappear either.

A few weeks later I was in a fitness class and the instructor said something I can’t forget. She said we all have the same 24-hour days. Some people complain about their day. Some people squeeze everything out of it. Which one do you want to be?

And I remember standing there thinking: I’ve been the first one for a really long time. Complaining. Wishing. Waiting. Feeling behind. Blaming my schedule. Blaming my life. Blaming my personality.

I never really squeezed anything out of my day. I just tried to survive it.

And I think that’s what shifted for me. It wasn’t about the gym. Or the goal. It was about finally getting tired of not showing up for my own life. It was about realizing that the difference between who I was and who I wanted to be wasn’t talent or discipline. It was consistency.

And I don’t just mean that with workouts. I mean that in every part of my life. In my career. In my writing. In how I talk to people. In how I talk to myself. I always thought purpose was something you had to figure out in a deep way. Something far off. But I’m starting to think it’s not. Maybe purpose is something that reveals itself after enough days in a row of doing the next right thing.

I don’t even know what to call myself these days. I’m a career coach. A mediator. A therapist. A writer. Sometimes I feel like I’m all of them. Sometimes none. The truth is I’ve always been more of a reinvention story than a straight line.

Even this column started out differently. I thought I was going to write about mediation. About divorce. About co-parenting. But none of that really lit me up. What I wanted was to talk about real life. The messy parts. The moments we all go through but don’t always talk about. The doubt. The loneliness. The little ways we disconnect from ourselves and don’t even notice. And the slow and steady ways we find ourselves again.

This week I actually sat down to write about how AI is affecting the job market. I thought maybe I’d start a whole series. And I still might. But as I opened my computer, the word “consistency” came rushing into my brain. And I knew I had to write about that instead. I wanted to write what was true. What was real for me right now. What was sitting on my heart.

My sister told me I should stay on topic. That I should stay on brand. That I should make sure I’m always weaving it back to career coaching. And I hear her. And I probably will. I probably already am. But more than anything, I’ve always been someone who needs to say what’s true for me in the moment. That’s what makes my work real. That’s what makes it resonate. And this is what’s true for me right now.

Because (not to toot my own horn), but for the past six months I have been so consistent with my health and movement that I almost don’t recognize myself. And for the first time in a long time, I like who I am.

Not because I hit some goal. Not because I proved anything to anyone. But because I stopped disappearing on myself. I started doing the things I never believed I could.

And I hate when people say this next part because it always sounds cheesy. But it’s true. If I can do it, anyone can. And I still can’t believe I’m the one saying that.

I look in the mirror now and see someone I trust. That’s not something I could’ve said a year ago. I used to second guess myself constantly. I’d flake on my own plans and then beat myself up for it. But now there’s this quiet strength. Not loud. Not visible. Just this feeling that I’m finally on my own side.

And once you feel that, everything else starts to shift. You parent differently. You work differently. You dream differently. You stop waiting for motivation or permission or some perfect version of yourself to arrive. You just get up and do the thing.

That’s the kind of consistency I never thought I was capable of. The kind that changes how you live your day. And your life.

That’s what I wanted to write about. That’s what I want this column to be. Not perfect advice or neat takeaways. Just honest reflections on what it means to be human.

And right now, being human for me means learning how to keep showing up. Not because I have to.

But because this is the version of me that I want to keep becoming.

And I finally believe she’s worth all the effort. n

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst.  She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit TamaraGestetner.com to learn more.