The Seventy-Second Question: Who Do You Think You Are?
We’ll get back to weekly questions soon. I promise. Life is just hectic lately. Maybe you saw me enter the zeitgeist this week.
Yes, I am in the back of a photo on the TMZ Instagram page. And The Shade Room. And NYPost. And Oprah. I’m everywhere. And while I’m not the story, I like to think I am. Just look at me having a totally vibrant and expressive response to the dialogue between HRH Oprah Winfrey and Vice President Harris!
How blessed was I this past week? I had the chance to be in the room in Oakland County on Wednesday to listen live as Oprah and the VP discussed matters of policy and promise, the 2024 Presidential election, and the future of our democracy. It was an incredible gift and opportunity. On Instagram I wrote up a full recap of the event that you can check out for yourself (and the full event can be watched here).
One thing I want to expand on here, in the comfort of my own space, before getting into this week’s entry, is the long arc of our lives.
For undergrad, I went to Georgetown University. My heart had been set on the school for many years, and it was because I knew I wanted to get into politics. Specifically, campaign finance and fundraising. Mind you, at that age, I thought the job was mostly about throwing great events (one of my specialties). But then two things happened: 1) I learned what campaign fundraising really looks like and 2) I interned on the hill.
My Hill internship(s) came in 2010-2011. This was the dawn of the Tea Party Movement (which seems quaint by today’s political standards). Every day in that office, we would have C-SPAN on and hear elected officials and callers spew hateful rhetoric…rhetoric that was not confined to one side of the aisle! Quickly, I began to realize I couldn’t operate in this space for an extended period of time. To wake up every day of your life and have to operate from a place that calls for you to have such vitriol and hatred for the other in your stomach, regardless of your political persuasion? It can’t be healthy to live life that way.
So I stepped away. I pursued a career in marketing and showed up for my community in ways that I could outside of that.
Then Creatives for Harris happened, and suddenly, I’m in (one of) the room(s) where it happens. As co-founder of C4H, I’m leading a group of 1,000+ ad industry volunteers to create content and initiatives in support of the Harris-Walz campaign and other affinity groups. Suddenly, I’m doing the work I had always wanted to be doing in my career. But doing it my way. Staying true to my needs and values along the way. Didn’t have to compromise on stepping into environments or rooms I didn’t think would serve me, and now getting to show up authentically and honestly.
Wow. Big things can happen for you kids. Just stay true to yourself. That’s really the whole ballgame. Carve out the square foot that’s there for you in the world by being true to who you are, and your community and opportunities will naturally find you.
It worked for me.
Answering the Question
When I last prompted you, the topic was shame. Specifically, what it sounds like when our internal critic turns on the shame voice. Some of the observations I made:
So much of the shame voice is grounded in a topic we’ve covered before in these reflections: the dual forces of expectations and shoulds. I feel shame because I should have done something differently. I feel shame because I should have accomplished something already. The shame comes not from where I am, but from where I could be. Holding myself to the standard of the unmet expectation (formed from where exactly?) keeps me focused on how my reality falls short of the imagined, rather than how it has expanded what my vision of the possible was.
Like I imagine it is for many of you, the shame voice goes beyond the single action and manifests as a full-on assault on my character and identity. I didn’t just do a bad thing, I am a bad person. I am unworthy, unlovable, and imperfect. When the truth is that we are all imperfect, which is what makes us lovable, worthy, and human.
Something else I was trying to grapple with is how I might outwardly project my shame voice as a means of self-protection. If, for instance, I really wanted a Lamborghini (I do not) and I saw someone I know with one of them, I turn that shame outward as judgment or disdain. Why would I want what Joe has, when he is someone who does X, Y, and Z, and I abhor those things? I would never compromise my values /do X/ pursue Y just to get a car. That’s pathetic! This is just a means of me trying to justify why someone has something I don’t, and avoid activating the shame voice, not unlearning it. Better would be to unlearn the ideas that his choices can a) be understood by me and b) mean anything in relation to my own. Then I can put the focus back where it needs to be: on myself, interrogating why I want the thing in the first place and what it means about my identity to have, or not have, it. This could turn external frustration at others into a healthy exploration of my own desires.
What did your shame voice look like on the page?
Question #72
Let’s explore that ever-popular LinkedIn topic this week.
Why do you have imposter syndrome?
Was there a moment in time you first recognized these feelings? In a meeting? On a project? What happened?
How do you feel this has held you back in pursuit of your goals/dreams?
Do you think this imposter syndrome has compounded the symptoms of any other problems or challenges you deal with?
How do you go about changing the story on your imposter syndrome?
See you next Sunday for more Questions!