Both, Always.

Growing up, I was always curious about identity and the meaning of my name as I perceived my siblings’ names carried rich stories that I didn’t have:

• Christa, named for Christa McCullough, the first teacher in space who died when my mother was a young educator.

• Marie, a middle name carried down many generations

• And my brother, the fifth in a line of Leonards, with a middle name the same as a great-grandfather.

  
  

And then there was me—Rachel Jenay. A named I was mostly told my dad “just liked.”

I remember being obsessed — googling my name as a child looking for meaning and discovering it meant “ewe.” Silly Rachel misunderstood the word as “eww,” which only added to the identity questions of little Rachel. Like many helpers, I carried curiosity—and anxiety—about my place in the world. 

As I grew older, this curiosity evolved. But questions became about the big stuff — calling, career, vocation. Could I really lead or hold space for others in ministry, therapy, or anywhere if my own life was so messy — when I didn’t even understand who I am? Through prayer and reflection in some of the most desperate of times, it was revealed to me a sacred tension carried in my name, the most outward expression of who I am —a dialectic within it. Rachel meaning “little lamb” or “female sheep” and Shepherd being the one who guides and protects (typically sheep). I am Rachel before Shepherd and yet destined to be born a Shepherd before they ever called me Rachel.

A dialectic is the practice of holding two seemingly opposite truths at the same time, such as:

Strength and softness.

Leadership and receptivity.

Holding and held

Rachel and Shepherd 

I began to see and understand a beauty in the tension I’d always held. Rachel Shepherd— both the little lamb and the guide embodying a truth that now resonates deeply with my personal journey and the work I do.

For my work with helpers, healers, and heart-led leaders, I find this perspective transformative.

When you step into coaching with me, you’re more than free to bring all that you are.

• Your questions matter as much as your wisdom.

• Your strength is honored, and your weariness is too.

You don’t have to choose between being the one who cares and the one who need care. You get to be both.

Many of the people I work with are used to being the steady ones—the ones others turn to for comfort, clarity, or care. It can feel foreign—or unsafe—to let yourself be the one who is held.

Through coaching, we practice living in the tension of the dialectic: holding space for your strength and your vulnerability, your leadership and your need for guidance, your wisdom and your questions.

Because the world doesn’t just need more people who can hold it all together—it needs people who are whole.

Rachel Shepherd is a space. That’s what the name means to me. It’s not just who I am—it’s the kind of space I’m here to hold.

A space for the both/and.

For the guided and the guiding.

For the healing and the healer.

For the leader and the still learning.

Both, always. 

If any part of this story feels familiar — if you see yourself in the questions, the tension, or the longing for wholeness — I’d be honored to walk alongside you. Coaching is a space to slow down, breathe, reflect, and reconnect with who you are beneath the roles you carry. If you’re curious about what that support could look like for you, I warmly invite you to request a consultation. There’s no pressure, only a gentle conversation to explore whether this space is the right fit for your journey.

Free Consultation: https://wix.to/1R3zCAO