So far, I’ve managed to cry at every job I’ve ever held.
Last week, the record continued. My manager shared some information with me that I found difficult to swallow, and after getting off Zoom, I had a good cry. Thank god for remote work.
The substance of what was shared with me is not very important. It actually turned out to be inaccurate, the result of a game of telephone from one senior leader to another to my boss to me. (This is one of the many problems of working in an organization with hierarchies of communication, and it’s why I so appreciate Jensen Huang for saying that feedback should be given in the moment instead of behind closed doors.) The gist of the message was that I seemed “checked out” at work.
I’ve always known myself to be ambitious and hardworking, maybe to a fault. This is reflected back to me by my friends, parents, former teachers and bosses. Their perception of me reinforces my self-image. So when I was confronted with an observation that contradicted such a deeply engrained belief about myself, a core part of my identity felt threatened.
Getting fired from my job would feel like a reflection on my work ethic. I would think I had failed myself and disappointed everyone who ever held a high opinion of me. When I said this to my therapist, she suggested that maybe a more genuine form of admiration is the kind that’s not about your accomplishments. What would it mean to be admired for who you are rather than what you’ve done?
This was a powerful provocation. “Who would I be without my accomplishments?” is an existentially terrifying question. And it made me realize that I have a double standard for how I treat myself vs. how I treat others. I like talking to smart and ambitious people because they have interesting ideas, but I don’t choose my friends based on their successes or failures. I admire them for how they show up in the world. If I have a problem with someone, it’s usually because of a character flaw rather than a perceived lack of accomplishments. But do I judge myself for what I’ve achieved? 100%.
Pausing to say that on a meta level, I’m hesitant to write about this because it sounds like I’m implying that I’ve achieved a lot, to which I would protest, “No, I haven’t,” and then I would wonder if I’m hiding behind false modesty. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments, but if you can’t fathom a version of yourself without them, isn’t that problematic?
When you run up against a criticism that challenges a core belief about yourself, it’s natural to panic. This is why we get activated when someone accuses us of saying or doing something we know we didn’t say or do. But I also think we get defensive because deep down, we recognize a shadow of the truth in the criticism. Nothing stings the way an uncomfortable truth does. Maybe I’m not as ambitious as I think I am. Maybe I’m unwilling to go above and beyond. Maybe I do want to slack off from time to time. Confronting this feels destabilizing. But in order to grow in new and non-linear ways, you have to give yourself permission to go against your grain.
Our social, political, and corporate systems are inherently treacherous to the individual. No one will value you more than you value yourself, which is why you should never tie your sense of self-worth to a single identity, group, job or accomplishment. What was so illuminating to me about this experience wasn’t the feedback itself but my emotional reaction to it. It revealed to me just how much being seen as a high achiever is tied to my sense of self-worth. And there’s the key word: seen. But is that really who I am?
An abundant mindset not only gives you a softer landing when you fail or suffer rejection, but it also opens you up to possibilities you may not have imagined. When you’re adamant that something is a “must have,” you become blind to pretty much all other possibilities, including the ones that may be better for you. It’s true of finding romantic partners, it’s true of forming friendships, it’s true of pursuing work that’s fulfilling. What if you let go of this idea of yourself as a high-achieving middle manager at a prestigious tech company? Suddenly, the world becomes your oyster.
As a child, when I was bothered by something someone said, when I ruminated over a conflict with a friend, my dad would say, “Go read a book.” That might sound dismissive, but it felt liberating. Important context: I was a huge bookworm, so think of this injunction as the equivalent of “go treat yourself to ice-cream” (which also would’ve been nice). I think the point he was trying to make is that the world is so much bigger than the problems that are staring us in the face, and while it’s important to work through our problems, we shouldn’t let them consume us.
No one will value you more than you value yourself. A corollary: no one can help you unless you know how to help yourself first. Knowing how to help yourself—knowing what you need and making a clear and specific ask for it—is one of the most important life skills. I was only able to find out what the original feedback was when I reached out to the two senior leaders. They were able to clarify the miscommunication only because I took the first steps in helping myself by asking for it. And like all feedback, it’s up to me to decide what—if anything—to do about it. That’s another common misconception: feedback is not a directive.