If doctors working eighty-hour weeks in emergency rooms can use coaching to dramatically reduce burnout, what might happen if lawyers did too? Today we’ll look at the scientific proof that this kind of coaching actually works, and what medicine’s research reveals about how lawyers can heal moral injury, rebuild agency, and practice law in a sustainable way. Because after heartbreak and hopelessness, sometimes the most healing thing is evidence that change is truly possible.

Welcome to The Lawyer Burnout Solution, the podcast for women attorneys who want to move from survival mode to a sustainable, fulfilling lawyer life. I’m Heather Mills, and every week I share tools, strategies, and mindset shifts to help you reclaim your energy, confidence, and career. In Episode 24, we talked about moral injury, that deep heartbreak lawyers feel when the system they serve no longer aligns with the values that brought them here. In Episode 25, we explored what happens after that heartbreak, how your brain protects you by shutting down hope, and how small acts of agency begin to bring you back to yourself even when nothing around you has changed yet. And today, we’re turning to the evidence, because lawyers love proof. We’ll look at what medicine’s research shows about coaching, and how those same principles can help lawyers rebuild clarity, confidence, and a steadier sense of control in their work.

A few years ago, two physicians, Dr. Tyra Fainstad and Dr. Adrienne Mann, saw the same crisis in medicine that we now see in law. Doctors were burning out in record numbers, and the usual wellness fixes like yoga classes, resilience talks, and free coffee barely touched it. So they did something radical for academia: they studied coaching. And they published the results in The Journal of the American Medical Association.

In the first trial, Drs. Fainstad and Mann enrolled just over a hundred women resident physicians from across the U.S. Half received a four-month coaching program; half served as a control group. Researchers measured burnout, impostor syndrome, moral injury, self-compassion, and overall flourishing. After four months, the coached group improved dramatically on every scale, and a year later, their gains in self-compassion still held. Two years later, Dr. Sunny Smith and colleagues replicated the study online with more than a thousand women physicians and found nearly identical results. As Dr. Fainstad put it, “There isn’t another intervention that hits every target (burnout, imposter syndrome, moral injury, and flourishing) all at once.” Together, these studies gave us something medicine had never had before: replicated, peer-reviewed proof that cognitive-emotional coaching measurably changes the way high-stress professionals think, feel, and work.

When I first read that data, what struck me wasn’t just the numbers; it was the relief behind them. Proof that what so many of us feel isn’t personal weakness, it’s a nervous system doing its best to survive an impossible pace.

Everything the doctors described about medical training could have been written about law school or early practice: perfectionism rewarded, emotion dismissed, self-worth tied to output. Both professions select for high achievers who equate over-functioning with value. Both teach you to override your body’s limits. Both glorify endurance and call it professionalism. I remember what that looked like in my early years in law...wearing exhaustion like proof of commitment, ignoring every signal my body tried to send. I didn’t have the language for moral injury or burnout back then. I just called it being tough. Lawyers are just starting to name it out loud, but the patterns have been there all along: the long hours, the self-sacrifice disguised as pride, the quiet suffering we mistake for professionalism. Medicine simply admitted the cost sooner and measured it.

The coaching curriculum these doctors used looked familiar: how thoughts create feelings and how to process emotions; applying that awareness to work—feedback, growth mindset, boundaries; working with the inner critic, perfectionism, and approval addiction; envisioning your next version of self. Many participants said they changed just by watching others get coached. Seeing someone voice your exact self-criticism and watching it met with compassion instead of judgment rewires shame into empathy. That kind of vicarious repair is powerful. Right now, I do this work one-on-one with my lawyer clients, but I’m beginning to build a small-group version of it too, because there’s something uniquely healing about realizing you’re not the only one.

These studies didn’t use fluffy happiness surveys. When they said burnout dropped, it meant physicians reported less emotional exhaustion. When they said moral injury decreased, it meant they felt less trapped in systems violating their values. When flourishing increased, it meant meaning and purpose came back. Swap “client” for “patient,” and it all applies. Public defenders, transactional lawyers, prosecutors, in-house counsel all face the same chronic mismatch between responsibility and control. Coaching helps you notice the patterns that keep you stuck and choose differently, one moment at a time. That’s how agency begins to return quietly, from the inside out, even when the system around you hasn’t changed yet.

What stood out to me most wasn’t the data itself; it was how different the tone was. No one was telling physicians to toughen up. They were finally being met with compassion. Dr. Fainstad likes to say they banned “the R word.” After years of being told they needed to be more resilient, physicians were done. The problem wasn’t individual weakness—it was systemic overload. Lawyers say the same thing. Coaching doesn’t tell you to toughen up. It teaches you to notice your thoughts, regulate your body, and choose responses aligned with your values. As Dr. Mann explained about her study, “Acceptance of something doesn’t mean approval of it.” She wasn’t coaching physicians to accept a broken healthcare system. She was helping them see that when you stop spending all your emotional energy fighting what is, you can redirect that energy toward how you want to respond. That’s what allowed those doctors to access their own individual power again. And in that same vein, you can take responsibility for your wellbeing without letting the legal system off the hook.

The results were remarkable. Coaching reduced emotional exhaustion, lowered imposter syndrome, decreased moral injury, increased self-compassion, and improved overall flourishing. And what makes this evidence so strong is that it’s not just one study—it’s two. The original JAMA trial by Drs. Fainstad and Mann, and the 2024 JAMA Network Open study led by Dr. Sunny Smith, both found the same pattern: when professionals learn these tools, their wellbeing rises and their burnout drops, in measurable, lasting ways.

Medicine proved the model, and law is the next profession ready to test it. In human terms, professionals who were drowning began to feel like themselves again, not because someone fixed the system, but because they changed how they related to it. That’s the same shift available to lawyers—beginning to understand what your stress is trying to tell you, instead of treating it like the enemy.

Imagine if every associate, partner, and agency lawyer had access to this. Instead of telling lawyers to be tougher, we’d teach them to be aware. In my own coaching, I’ve seen the same kinds of transformations: a federal attorney who finally sleeps through the night after learning how her thoughts create her emotions, a transactional lawyer who eased up on her perfectionism habit by practicing precision, a litigator who no longer measures her worth as a human by her wins. And I’ve lived this shift myself. The version of me who once ran on anxiety and overwork now feels grounded and connected—not because life got easier, but because I learned how to meet stress differently. We’re all learning to work with our minds and bodies instead of against them—to notice stress sooner, respond with awareness, and make choices that actually sustain us. Each time you do that, your brain begins to rewire itself for agency and calm.

Coaching re-engages the brain’s agency network, the prefrontal regions that shut down under chronic threat. Each time you pause a thought, name an emotion, and choose a response, you reactivate that network. That’s why the effects last. I still remember the first time I noticed it in myself, catching a thought that triggered stress, pausing, and realizing my brain didn’t have to believe it. Which meant my body didn’t have to follow it into that familiar surge of tension either. That single pause felt small, but it changed everything. You’re not memorizing affirmations; you’re rewiring your brain for self-leadership.

Think of one recurring stressor in your practice. Now tell yourself, “It’s possible my thoughts about this are optional.” That single moment of awareness is what starts to loosen the old pattern. It’s how your nervous system starts to settle and remember safety again.

Medicine proved it. Law can too. Because when lawyers are clear and connected, their work gets stronger—and so do the systems they serve. Coaching isn’t fluff. It’s cognitive training for people whose work demands moral courage. Medicine showed that when high-achievers learn to process emotion and question their thoughts, they don’t just survive demanding systems—they begin to reshape them.

Before you move on, take ten seconds and ask yourself: If I treated my own mind with the same curiosity I bring to a case, what might change? If you’d like to experience what the research describes, book a free Stress Reset Call at heathermillscoaching.com/call. And if you know another lawyer who loves data, share this episode with her. She might need the reminder that change is possible.

Thanks for listening. Take care of yourself this week. The data shows what your body already knows: healing happens, one small shift at a time. And each shift you make becomes part of the evidence that lawyers can heal too.