Teaching in Pink Slippers

When I teach, I'm usually wearing pink slippers.

Not heels.

Not dress shoes.

Pink slippers.

There's a heating pad on my chair because my body sometimes needs one. My coffee is within reach. My water bottle is on the desk. There's almost always a snack nearby because if I'm teaching for three hours, I know my brain works better when I actually take care of myself.

Years ago, I probably wouldn't have admitted that.

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that being professional meant looking perfectly put together. Classrooms were formal. Experts stood at podiums. Learning felt serious—sometimes so serious that we forgot there were actual human beings in the room.

But therapists know something different.

We know healing doesn't happen because someone has the perfect outfit, the perfect office, or the perfect words. Healing happens through connection.

So why shouldn't learning feel the same way?

Don't get me wrong—I absolutely believe in showing up as my best self.

Before I ever step into a training, I've usually spent hours—often weeks—researching the topic. I'll read a dozen or more peer-reviewed journal articles, revisit textbooks, compare treatment approaches, organize the evidence, design every slide, think through the learning activities, and ask myself, "What would actually help clinicians on Monday morning?"

I care deeply about creating trainings that are practical, evidence-informed, engaging, and worth your time. Every workshop represents countless hours behind the scenes, long before I ever click "Start Meeting."

The pink slippers aren't about lowering the standard.

They're about raising a different one.

They remind me that excellence and authenticity can exist together. That we can be deeply prepared without pretending to be perfect. That we can take our work seriously while still taking care of ourselves.

One of my favorite parts of teaching isn't actually the teaching.

It's watching the chat fill with familiar names. It's recognizing someone who replied to one of my newsletters. It's hearing someone introduce themselves for the first time. It's watching hundreds of therapists from different states and different backgrounds spend a few hours together, asking thoughtful questions, laughing, learning, and reminding one another that none of us are doing this work alone.

After our recent chronic pain training, more than 500 clinicians registered.

The feedback wasn't just about the content.

People talked about feeling welcomed.

Feeling connected.

Feeling like they weren't just another attendee.

That meant more to me than any compliment about my slides ever could.

Because that's the community I've always hoped to build.

A place where you don't have to perform.

A place where curiosity matters more than perfection.

A place where it's okay to be tired after seeing clients all day.

A place where you can show up with your favorite mug, your dog sleeping at your feet, your camera off if you need it, and your notebook full of messy ideas.

Come exactly as you are.

If you're in yoga pants, wonderful.

If you're sitting in your own pink slippers, you're in good company.

Professionalism isn't about pretending we're machines.

It's about bringing our full attention, our curiosity, our preparation, and our respect for one another.

Ironically, I've found that when we stop trying so hard to look like experts, we create more space to become better ones.

So yes...

I'll keep teaching in my pink slippers.

Not because I don't take this work seriously.

Because I do.

And taking this work seriously also means taking care of the person doing it.

Maybe that's the lesson the slippers were trying to teach me all along.

So if you ever join one of my trainings, know this: you don't have to have the perfect office, the perfect background, or even the perfect day.

Bring your coffee.

Bring your notebook.

Bring your questions.

Bring your favorite snack.

And if you're wearing slippers, we'll have something in common.

Join Me

If this sounds like the kind of learning experience you've been looking for, I'd love to have you join our community.

At EngagedMinds, we're building more than continuing education. We're creating a place where therapists can learn evidence-informed, practical skills, connect with colleagues, ask questions, and show up as their authentic selves.

Whether you're attending a live workshop, joining one of our free community events, or simply reading along, you're welcome here.

Take a look at our upcoming trainings and free events at www.EngagedMindsCE.com.

And before you go, I'd love to hear from you...

Do you have a pair of "pink slippers"—something that helps you feel comfortable, grounded, and fully yourself while you work?