I grew up playing sports. I also grew up highly competitive. I never necessarily wanted to be better than other people; yet, I always wanted to be better, faster, and more agile than I was the day before. While this trait served me well in athletics, I was able to be captain of my collegiate soccer team and developed a deep love of wellness and fitness as a result, it has also been something I have had to keep in check to make sure I keep it “in the green zone” rather than the “red zone”. What is the difference? Let me break it down for you.
Keeping this sense of healthy competition to self in the green zone means that I approach my learning and growth in a strength and affirmation-based way. I create goals, something like hitting a specific mile time or adding to an article or book I am writing, that are based on things that bring me joy or make me a more well-rounded person. I allow myself to push and encourage myself, but I do not allow self-shaming or approaching a specific goal from a “deficit based mindset”. A DBM, as I like to call it in short with clients, is any type of narrative I have in my head that goes against my core values. It can be name calling, harsh/ critical judgement on the self, or allowing depressive voice to take over. It is any thought or feeling that emphasizes deficits over strengths/ neutral traits. I have found that setting goals and working towards them based on a DBM usually ends in feeling burned out and downtrodden if I finish the task or shameful and embarrassed if I did not.
My challenges with the DBM looks similar in my professional and academic career as does my athletic life. Allow me to share a short example. During my PhD, I remember starting it feeling energized, excited, and ready to take on the world of counseling. I signed up for any and all opportunities that challenged me in ways that I once felt on the soccer field; just now, my cleats had been exchanged with a pen and my soccer ball was now a stack of psychology books. Nevertheless, I was eager. This lasted all but 6 months. About halfway through my first year, I received notice that an essay I entered in a national essay competition that I just knew was a winner, did in fact, not win. Not even close. It was such, what I thought at the time, a failure, they did not even alert me that I had not placed at all. I felt sick and like I had disappointed everyone. I vowed to try again the next year.
A year goes by, and I gain more expertise in writing. Funny enough, writing a 100+ dissertation improves writing style. Another year of academia under my belt, I knew that I was a much better writer than the previous year and had more to share based on my experience. I opened my laptop and repeated in my head to not make the stupid grammar mistakes I made the year before that cost me placing in the competition- hello DBM. Several weeks go by and then they release the results. Another year, another (what I defined at the time) a failure. That second year of the PhD was one of the hardest years for me due to the increased course load, the birth of my second child, and the increasing demands of a wonderful, but growing case load of clients. I was discouraged due to this feeling of rejection that seemed to pervade several areas of life.
Fast forward to my last year in the PhD. Wrapping up my research, while time demanding, was also enjoyable. I was working in an independent fashion on a topic that brought me joy, teaching more, and in the process of starting my own business. My schedule was full and fulfilling. One day, I suddenly remembered about this national essay contest and chuckled. I decided to check out the prompt for it this year and it was a subject near to my heart: advocacy. I was inspired yet also calm. It was from a place of balance and joy that I wrote this essay. A few weeks later I received notice I had placed, honorable mention. I felt elated at this accomplishment. Reflecting on it, I was extremely grateful for the first two “failures” that taught me and reinforced the impact of a DBM. All too often, we internalize our failings as a negative experience we wish we could do without. Very rarely do we look at those stumbling blocks with gratitude for what they showed us and what we learned.
What did I learn? That I am always enough, I can work hard and know my value is inherent in myself and not always how I preform, and that 3rd time is the charm.
