B-Fit LLC

01/25/2026

Be Grateful You Didn't Get Away with It

Did you ever wonder why bad things happen to good people, and how others seem to get away with everything?

What if I told you, no one gets away with anything, and it may be a blessing to get caught.

I once got caught stealing a cassette tape and was taken to the police station.

I was so rattled I promised myself I would never take anything that wasn’t mine again—and I kept that promise.

Years later, someone I knew was caught selling pot, which was illegal at the time, and he too

was taken to the police station.

I shared with him that maybe this was a warning, a chance to put all of this behind him.

He laughed and said, “Nah, they’ll never catch me.”

A few months later he was caught selling near a school and spent seven and a half years in prison.

That’s the difference between someone who has truly learned a lesson and someone who hasn’t.

But what about the people who never get caught?

Those people concern me the most.

Why do some people get away with things and others don't? Seems unfair right? Well, what if getting caught could be the best thing that happened to you? And what happens to those who don't get caught? Do they get away with it? Actually, No.

01/21/2026

“People do care—but often they can’t see what we’re carrying inside.”

https://bertastacio.com/they-could-see-the-boot-not-the-baby/

01/18/2026

Over winter break, I got hurt.

I was in a boot and on crutches.

Then I developed a stye in my eye that became infected.

I felt—and honestly looked—pathetic.

And yet, something unexpectedly beautiful came out of it.

People held doors for me.

They asked if I was okay and had real concern.

I experienced how attentive and caring people can be when they can see that someone is injured.

That experience stayed with me and brought up a conversation I once had with a client.

She had been deeply hurt by her partner in a long-term relationship.

She said she didn’t feel ready—to trust, to open up, to move forward.

It made me realize something:

We don't often consider how emotionally hurt someone may be because we can’t see it the way we can see a boot or crutches.

I remember a colleague telling me that when her husband was unfaithful, it felt like she had cuts all over her body.

She actually looked at her skin to see if she was bleeding.

I work mostly with people’s interior lives as a coach, so I’m familiar with pain that doesn’t show on the surface.

But wearing that boot made it even more real to me.

People do care.

But we live in a society that doesn’t yet know how to recognize or tend to our interior lives.

So much attention is given to beauty, success, wealth, and notoriety.

And yet, none of these can heal the cuts we carry inside.

So what do we do?

Wearing a boot and using crutches made me realize that people really care when they see we are hurt but what about internal hurts. No one sees how we suffer and we suffer for that. This article helps us to become aware of our inner life and the wounds we cannot see,

01/16/2026

From time to time, I’m going to share reflections from my work to show what’s possible when people are met with understanding and steady support.

One of the populations I work with are capable young men who struggle silently. These reflections are a reminder that change is possible.

Refection:

A man I work with in his 20s is starting college next week after years of feeling stuck and having a negative experience with school.

He’s nervous to begin, but he’s also excited for the first time in his life because he’s clearer about who he is and what he really wants to do. 

Along the way, he’s also regulated his sleep and eating—quiet signs of something deeper settling in.

What I’m reminded of again and again is this: many young men don’t need pressure. They need clarity, care, and direction.

No matter how long things have been the way they are, with the right support, change is always possible.

I’m grateful for the trust of his parents and for the way we were able to work together in support of their son.

If you know of a young man who is struggling, but you also know, has everything he needs….don’t give up on him.

Being stuck isn’t a life sentence with the right help.

www.bertastacio.com

Life and Business Coaching

01/15/2026

Don’t be a nice guy.

Be a good man.

01/13/2026

“Being overly nice and people-pleasing is a way to disappear and avoid causing problems. Disappear long enough, and you forget who you are. Finding yourself again takes courage.”

01/11/2026

Why Being Nice Almost Ruined My Life

I was born into chaotic, violent, and neglectful circumstances.

To survive as a young boy, my nervous system did what every human nervous system does under threat.

It reached for one of four instinctive responses:

Fight.

Flight.

Freeze.

Or fawn.

You may not have heard of fawn.

Fawning is the strategy of giving—attention, approval, flattery—in order to stay safe.

This wasn’t a conscious decision for me. It just happened.

I tried the other options.

I tried to fight, but I was too small.

I tried to run, but again, I was too small.

I froze—but that didn’t work either.

What I learned to do was disappear.

To have no needs.

To not take up space.

To not be a problem.

That became a pattern: being nice.

I believed that if I cared enough, gave enough, and anticipated enough, the people around me would be happy—and I wouldn’t get hurt.

As a child, that strategy makes sense.

It’s not ideal, but it can keep you alive.

It just doesn’t work very well for living.

I carried this pattern into adulthood. I became a people-pleaser—nice, accommodating, and over-giving.

If I could just give enough, everyone would be okay.

But there’s a cost to that strategy.

The more I gave, the more depleted I became.

And at the same time, the less accountability and responsibility others carried.

So, I had to change.

Growing up in very difficult circumstances birthed a habit of people pleasing to survive, but survival strategies don't fit when you're trying to live a good life. Learn about how people pleasing starts and how narcissists and people pleasers are two sides of the same coin. Learn how and why to put....

12/31/2025

A Different Way Into the New Year
Every year I make goals. It’s been a habit I learned years ago and have taught many people to do the same.



One of the challenges for me has always been knowing what I truly wanted—and asking myself an even deeper question:



Is this the greatest thing I can do with my life?



I’ve asked that question more than ever since my divorce.



As difficult as that experience was—the hardest thing I’ve ever faced—it also reset something in me.



It forced me to seriously ask a fundamental question:



What truly matters? What does my heart really want?



I realized that if I go after what I deeply want, and commit to living the best life I can, then my divorce is not some kind of mistake.



It may have actually propelled me into a better way of living.



And I also realized this may be the greatest thing I can model for my children—because anything in life can be taken from you.



So where did I begin?



I looked back over the past year.



What did I do well?

Where were my challenges and frustrations?

What could I learn?



In 2025, I went to Africa with my daughter. I watched her graduate and go on to college.



My son transitioned to high school and did an incredible job disciplining himself—physically, mentally, and academically.



Then I zoomed out and looked across the years.



What I kept seeing—consistently—was how hard I’ve been on myself.



So what I decided for 2026 is this:

A reflection on how divorce, fatherhood, and time have reshaped my understanding of goals and purpose. It's about learning to live more honestly, more gently, and from the heart.

12/21/2025

The Quiet Power of Christmas:

My mentor and dear friend will be in surgery later today.

Some of my other friends are waiting on diagnoses.

I see my kids every other week.

I’m closing a chapter on a friendship that’s no longer aligned with my direction.

Heavy stuff...

And then there’s the news—Charlie Kirk, Rob Reiner, murders, affairs, division, misinformation, miscommunication… insanity.

Yet it’s Christmas.

And I wanted to share a perspective that may help—not to lose hope (maybe I’m projecting a bit :), but to actually help things become better.

Christmas—and all the holidays in this season of light—are about hope, innocence, miracles, and love.

That may sound childish, weak, or naïve when we’re facing real problems in our lives and in the world.

I understand that reaction.

But it’s often the simple and beautiful things that get dismissed precisely because of their power.

Don’t let that happen.

There is hope—and Christmas helps us remember it.

I once heard the story of soldiers during World War I who, on Christmas, laid down their weapons. They shared food, sang together, and even played games. For a brief moment, they put their differences aside and chose connection.

That’s Christmas.

Today, our challenges look different.

Read more here:

With so much happening in the world and our lives that are really hard, Christmas offers hope love peace and joy. Read about how such a gentle perspective that seems to offer little is the very answer to everything.

12/14/2025

When Christmas Was Winter
It was Christmas, and I was coming off what felt like the best year of my young, eight-year-old life.



My sister and I had been brought to the United States to live with my mom and stepdad, in the first home I would ever call my own.



The beatings from my grandmother had stopped.



The ache of being separated from my mom was finally gone.



We were together — my sister, my half-brothers — a family.



The year before, Christmas had been beautiful.



Then came this Christmas morning.



The house was dark.



Cold.



And my parents weren’t coming out of their bedroom.



We waited. 7am, 8am, ..10..finally 11 am.



No presents — but that wasn’t what hurt most. I had grown up without birthdays and Christmas gifts. I didn’t expect them.



What hurt me wasn't the lack of presents but the absence of my parent's presence


The confusion.



Not knowing what was going on.



Later, I learned the truth.



My parents owned a small store in North Philadelphia — a rough area.



It kept getting broken into.



The most recent time, thieves climbed onto the roof and came in through the ceiling.



My stepfather already kept two guns under the counter.



They were overwhelmed and afraid.



They had to close the store.



That store was our lifeline — it had paid for the house, brought us together as a family, and made the Christmas before possible.



Without it, they were suddenly in serious financial trouble.



Neither of them had much education.



The future was uncertain.



What hurt me most wasn’t the lack of money.



It was that no one told us.



I was young, but I wanted us to face it together.



I wanted honesty. Connection. A sense that even if things were hard, we were still a family.



That didn’t happen — and it left a mark.



So why do I share this story as we approach Christmas?

My family had a pretty hard christmas when my parents needed to close a store that was their only source of income. The hard part wasn't not having presents but not having my parents presence,

12/07/2025

A Grown-Up Example of Family Almost Laughed Away

It was only the second time she was meeting her now husband’s family.


At the first dinner, she sat almost speechless—watching as they asked about each other’s day, listened attentively, and spoke with kindness.

It was nothing like the family dynamic she grew up in, where the quickest way to be noticed was to make fun of someone, and the smallest show of vulnerability became a target for ridicule.


A few months later, something happened again at her husband’s family’s house


His 13-year-old niece had been taking voice lessons and was excited—nervous, but excited—to perform for everyone.


The young girl opened her mouth to sing… and the notes were wildly off-key.



My friend told me she almost burst out laughing while everyone else seemed to not notice.



They listened attentively.



She had to physically restrain herself for the entire performance from laughing and kept catching looks from her husband.



Because in her family, this never would have happened.



No one would have dared to sing—even if they were good.



And if someone did sing off-key? They’d be roasted for years.



In her family, vulnerability wasn’t safe.



Trying something new, being imperfect, or needing encouragement was an invitation for attack—not support.



But after the moment passed—and after she recovered from her own instinctive reaction—she told me what that experience taught her.



She said:

What happens when you are raised in a

12/05/2025

How do I live today so that 25 years from now I won’t regret my choices?