I can’t see straight; my vision is murky and obstructed. I’ve never been here before. I’m hyper-aware that I’m on my own, flapping about like a fish out of water, left out of a conversation with those who are actually ‘in-the-know’. Here comes that all too familiar flip of the stomach; I’m a stunned mullet. Why is my face hot? I feel such intense vulnerability, triggering my loss of control as I fumble around hoping I can come up with something clever.
It’s relatable, right? If every woman reading this right now was honest with herself, she would be familiar with this sense of dread; knowing what it’s like to feel a fool, nothing more than an imposter. Undoubtedly all part of the human condition, but why do we always feel we have to hide it? We remember it in our bodies before our minds recognise the sinking feeling. We feel the palpitations of anxiety, the trembles of being ‘caught out’, our palms get clammy, our mouths dry. For me, it’s the overpowering sense of feeling intimidated, I’m smothered by the perceived confidence of those around me and the expectations from others to catch on quick.
Our current belief that we will look incompetent is a burden of the modern workplace, where everyone moves at a relentless pace and there is seemingly no room for error. But if we stop and unpack it, having ‘no idea’ actually makes space for fresh thinking, it illustrates growth, willingness and effort and ultimately, it unites us. Being a beginner is a constant throughout life for everyone; starting a new job or new school, our first date, first child, even our first steps. As children, everything we manage as a ‘first’ is celebrated, it is acknowledged and often memorialised. We are unaware of expectation, we do not yet feel the pressure to perform. We just learn and we try. If we fail, that’s ok. We just get up and give it another go.
As an adult, the experience becomes more nuanced. Whenever anything involves a ‘first’, we’re transported straight to fear, our insides screaming “I’ve absolutely no idea what I’m doing!”. Is it because we are excruciatingly aware of expectation? We feel the rush to succeed, the silent competition and panic about our incompetence? Am I too slow, not smart enough, not self assured enough? It triggers me to retreat back inside where shame and embarrassment has hijacked first my body, closely followed by my mind.
Who do I need to hear it from?
I need the leaders in my life to show me who they are, I need them to be comfortable in their vulnerability; to be able to front up to their ‘firsts’ and not be embarrassed by mistakes. After all, as we know, this is how we learn. If people want to connect with me, if they want to inspire me, this is how it will happen. Often the ones I’m intimidated by the most are those who don’t know (or care) how to connect. It becomes a struggle to find common ground and see them as a faltering human being, like the rest of us.
This is for the ones who influence, lead, guide, teach, parent, sit alongside me, and mentor me. If they could be brave enough in just being themselves, vulnerable and fallible; if they realised that such expressions of honesty illustrate true authenticity, the world might be a different place. It’s the real in people that I desperately need to see. I want to tell them, it’s okay to lose that poker face, let me see who you are.
I dare you. Just put yourself out there, I promise it benefits us both.
Ditch the swagger, the bravado. As a leader, you won’t achieve unity with your people until you do – when we cut straight to the heart of it, your title, position and status in life means nothing to those around you, who are looking up to you. Until you can acknowledge with compassion and empathy that you aren’t smarter, you aren’t better, you are simply a little further down the track, we will get nowhere. Tell me, proudly, that you know first hand how it feels to have no idea; that you once felt unqualified to be here too.
Be transparent and just be you, give me an opportunity to know you who truly are. Go on try it, it will help us both.
Why do I need to hear it from you?
I need to hear your struggles and see your growth, because then I won’t fear my own. I won’t be paralysed by my feelings of inadequacy, I won’t be alone. I will be encouraged and inspired by your growth and honesty.
Nobody has a plan, nobody has this thing called life sorted out. No need to shout your vulnerabilities from the stage, but choose your words and audience wisely to convey the sentiment. We all need to hear it. Maybe then I’ll not be embarrassed to ask you for directions, I’ll start to experience this world differently, treading new turf will be openly growing and learning. I just need an injection of empathy from you, you who are supposed to influence me, encourage me and expect development from me. A true expression of self will help me drop my shoulders and unfurl the tension; where discomfort meets relief. Then perhaps by tomorrow, I will feel a little less on my own and encouraged to keep moving forward.
“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together” – Brene Brown.
Now it’s my turn. I need to say it for those who I influence, who struggle to be brave. I don’t need to be a leader or a teacher to make someone a little less uncomfortable. I can express myself and my battles, my adversity; there’s actually magic in that. Where once there was an aversion to something new, there is now a vehicle through which to ask for help, opening the door from confusion to clarity. I can show them that if they are brave and put themselves out there, people will want to know them, help them, connect with them. I need to say it to my 22 year old self, my 32 year old self and my 42 year old self.
I need to teach my 5 year old daughter to find comfort and courage in her ‘firsts’; this is how she will learn to be okay with mistakes, pick herself up and try again.
