CAITLIN HOSKING
FOUNDER & DIRECTOR
SHADOW ALCHEMY COACHING
How Shadow Alchemy Was Born
If you’d told teenage me that I’d one day be leading a global movement in shadow work, I would’ve laughed, rolled my eyes…or dramatically stubbed out my cigarette in disbelief. Back then, my life was a crash course in self-sabotage. Drinking? Check. Drugs? Obviously. Smoking? Always. Toxic relationships? Oh, I collected those like Pokemon cards.
If you’d told teenage me that I’d one day be leading a global movement in shadow work, I would’ve laughed, rolled my eyes…or dramatically stubbed out my cigarette in disbelief. Back then, my life was a crash course in self-sabotage. Drinking? Check. Drugs? Obviously. Smoking? Always. Toxic relationships? Oh, I collected those like Pokemon cards.
I wasn’t just a mess—I was the mess. And at the root of it all was a belief that I wasn’t worth anything. By the time I hit 21, I’d mastered the art of hopelessness. Rock bottom wasn’t just a place I visited; it was home.
But here’s the thing about rock bottom: it’s a springboard. It launched me into “fixing” my life…or so I thought.
Side note: I even got a psychology degree. Too bad I was my worst client.
That’s right. In the middle of my chaotic whirlwind, I decided to become a psychologist. I spent years learning how to help other people while actively ignoring my own dumpster fire of a life.
Let me start by saying: I wasn’t supposed to end up here.
I wasn’t just a mess—I was the mess. And at the root of it all was a belief that I wasn’t worth anything. By the time I hit 21, I’d mastered the art of hopelessness. Rock bottom wasn’t just a place I visited; it was home.
But here’s the thing about rock bottom: it’s a springboard. It launched me into “fixing” my life…or so I thought.
Side note: I even got a psychology degree. Too bad I was my worst client.
That’s right. In the middle of my chaotic whirlwind, I decided to become a psychologist. I spent years learning how to help other people while actively ignoring my own dumpster fire of a life.
I built the “perfect” life. And it broke me.
When I decided to get my act together, I didn’t just dabble—I went all in. I quit smoking, quit drinking, started studying nutrition, and landed a job at F45. I even faked confidence until I made it, upgrading from painfully shy trainer to head trainer in six months.
On the outside, I was the poster child for success. I was lean, driven, and climbing higher by the day. People looked at my life and saw a shiny, Instagram-ready dream.
But here’s the thing about building your life around perfection: it’s a house of cards. And spoiler alert—mine was about to collapse.
Every achievement gave me a brief high, followed by the crushing weight of the next goal and the suffocation of the shame I was so desperately trying to outrun.
The truth: my happiness wasn’t real—it was fragile and conditional.
It’s funny in hindsight—studying Maslow’s hierarchy of needs while chain-smoking and dodging my emotions like they were final exams. You’d think I’d figure out that I was my own first case study, but nope. I graduated with a degree and zero personal application.
Turns out, you can’t out-learn your trauma. Who knew?
I Thought Success Was the Key to Happiness. Spoiler: It Wasn’t.
I was convinced I’d cracked the code: be skinny, successful, and disciplined, and happiness would follow. Simple math, right? So when I started coaching nutrition clients, it all clicked—help them lose weight, and their problems would vanish.
Spoiler alert: they didn’t.
Even when my clients stuck to the plan, they weren’t happy. And when they struggled, I judged them. Why couldn’t they just do it? If I could willpower my way through life, why couldn’t they?
What I refused to admit was the glaring truth: I didn’t actually like myself either. My happiness was always “when”—when I was leaner, more successful, or accomplishing more. But instead of facing my own stuff, I decided they just needed better tools.
So, naturally, I went and got certified in Life Coaching, NLP, and Hypnosis—to help them become more disciplined… like me.
Because obviously, I was totally fine.
Except, I wasn’t.
No amount of success could fix my self-loathing. Behind the polished facade, I was as stuck as my clients. The only difference? My mask was shinier.
Apparently you can’t diet, discipline, or goal-set your way out of hating yourself. And I was about to find out the hard way...
And just when I thought I’d found the answer... It fell apart... AGAIN
Toxic relationships creep in quietly, like water seeping into a foundation. At first, you don’t notice. But eventually, they destroy everything.
My confidence eroded bit by bit. Gaslighting, manipulation, blame—it all piled up until I couldn’t recognise myself anymore.
My disciplined life started to crumble. Drinking. Smoking. Drugs. I spiralled back into old patterns, clinging to my business like a life raft, even though every move felt impossible.
You can only outrun shame for so long before it catches you.
I didn't notice the cracks until the whole thing fell apart.
Desperate to claw my way back from the chaos, I dove headfirst into emotional embodiment, self love and manifestation practices. For the first time, I let myself feel instead of running from my emotions.
And it worked—for a while. I felt glimmers of happiness again, and naturally, I brought these practices to my clients. Because that’s what coaches do, right? If it helped me, it would help them too.
The thing was, though: I was doing the exact same thing all over again, just with a shinier, “spiritual” facade.
I swapped out dieting and discipline for affirmations, self-love, and manifestation. The language was softer, but the trap was the same. I still believed the goal was to be happy all the time. I was STILL chasing the same toxic positivity of “I’ll be happy when…”
So when I had a bad day (because, hello, human here), the shame hit me like a truck.
I’d spiral into self-doubt, convinced I was a fraud. How could I teach self-love and positivity when I still struggled to feel good about myself?
I plastered on the affirmations, threw myself into manifestation practices, and tried to think my way out of my emotions. But the truth was, the more I tried to fix myself with positivity and “success,” the emptier I felt inside.
I was preaching a better, more “self-loving” version of the same toxic messaging I’d fallen for all along.
Rock bottom came calling. Again.
After a big night out (think: too much alcohol, too many bad decisions), I ended up in the ER. Emergency surgery forced me into six weeks off work—with nothing but my shame and self-loathing to keep me company (“hello darkness my old friend..”)
That could’ve been the end of the story.
I could’ve stayed stuck in that cycle forever, but in those six weeks, I stumbled across something that changed everything.
A book on shadow work.
The truth that set me free.
For years, I thought my darkness was the enemy. Something to fight, conquer, or fix. Shadow work taught me the opposite.
My darkness wasn’t a flaw—it was part of me.
I wasn’t broken.
I was human.
For the first time, I stopped fighting myself. I didn’t just feel better—I felt whole. But while my mind understood my shadows, my body still reacted with triggers and tension.
So, I got curious.
What if shadow work didn’t just live in the mind?
When I combined shadow work with somatic and embodiment practices, everything changed.
I stopped trying to control my emotions and started feeling them. I stopped running from my triggers and started meeting them with compassion.
And finally, the person I’d been chasing—the “whole, healed” version of me—appeared. Not because I fixed myself, but because I embraced all of who I was.
When I brought shadow work and somatics into my client sessions, it wasn’t just a shift—it was a revolution.
Clients who had spent years trapped in the “awareness trap”—endlessly analysing their patterns, yet still sabotaging themselves—began to unravel the shame they’d carried for so long. They stopped chasing “I’ll be happy when…” and discovered what it felt like to love and accept themselves as they were, for the first time ever.
These were people who had done the work, or so they thought. They’d journaled, affirmed, and visualised their dream lives—but they were still stuck, still spiraling, still at war with themselves. Seeing them finally break free was beyond words.
And it didn’t stop there. Other coaches started noticing the transformations, asking how I was creating such deep breakthroughs. That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t just for me, or even for my clients.
This work has the power to rewrite how we help people heal—how we show them their worth, not by fixing them but by helping them feel whole. And I knew it was my mission to share it.
The Ripple Effect: Healing Myself, Healing Others
I created Shadow Alchemy to teach coaches what I wish I’d known all along: true transformation doesn’t come from fixing yourself. It comes from embracing your wholeness.
When we stop shaming our shadows and start embracing all of who we are, we don’t just heal.
We become free.
Shadow Alchemy isn’t just a certification. It’s a movement. A revolution to rewrite the way we transform ourselves—and each other.
Because when you stop fighting yourself, you don’t just change your life.
You change the world.
