Musings: We become who we think we are

Do you serve as your own silent saboteur?

I was playing soccer recently when a team member said, “Layla, don’t be scared to call for the ball.” At work, I often find myself delivering the same message to capable but timid employees: Don’t be afraid to share the issue, find the solution, ask for the project, and so on. I know that while women make up half of the entry-level workforce, the number drops a lot by the time opportunities rise to the C-suite. We have no choice but to call for the ball—and call loudly.

In a following game, I took on a new position as a substitute with a different team. Usually, I’m too cautious to play forward since I’m a less seasoned player, but this time, I took on the responsibility of scoring goals. And I scored two. I realized that I limit myself within my own team because I’ve created an identity for myself. Once a perception is formed, it’s very hard to break. My identity as the mom who started playing soccer again after three kids—among mostly twenty-somethings who have played varsity, semi-professional, and sometimes professional ball—stopped short. I had perceived my timidity as a personality trait. That version of me was afraid to call for the ball because she didn’t think she was good enough.

In Atomic Habits, the author talks about how change happens at 3 levels: a change in behavior, a change in systems, or a change in identity. My team member was asking me to change my behavior. A change in identity turned out to be more powerful. I had to step out of the identity of a newbie. After grad school, a professor’s parting advice to me was “Leave every job after two years so that you shed the disrespect you earn by being a young woman. And don’t make anybody coffee.” While I wouldn’t give the same advice, he was encouraging a forced evolution of perception. A fresh opportunity to change my identity.

Recently, I stopped sharing photos of my children online. Stick with me; it’ll all connect. I’m not a mommy blogger, so I feel immune to the scrutiny of monetizing my children—I haven’t and don’t intend to. I didn’t go out of my way to post them; they just existed in my online universe as they do in my offline world. But as my children grow, I’ve developed perceptions about them. As their parent, I risk turning those perceptions into their identity. I selectively share with them how intelligent, thoughtful, or caring they are, all while being mindful to exclude negative traits. My kids aren’t space cadets. They aren’t clumsy. They aren’t more inclined towards math, science, or writing. They’re kids, and their job is to be curious and develop interests during the uniquely long childhood we humans have—anonymously, so that their journey is theirs, not mine. Because as their parent, when I tell them who they are, they believe me, and often those beliefs become the boundaries of their existence. Those beliefs set standards they feel they have to meet. Self-confidence depletes when you think your abilities fall short of the expected standards.

I’m careful not to solidify their identity based on traits I like and publicize, or worse, on negative traits that are public. (Disclaimer: Just because this is my approach doesn’t mean it’s the right or only approach—my thoughts aren’t meant to criticize anyone who does things differently.)

We have the same power over ourselves. As adults, we piece together a picture of who we are, what we like, how hard we try, and how easily we give up. That picture is only as dynamic as our ability to accept feedback and change. I had accepted that I was fine-but-a-lot-worse-at-soccer-than-the-rest-of-my-team. But when I dropped that narrative, I performed better.

Every now and then, I shy away from my usual informational and tactical posts to indulge in some musings. I hope you enjoyed today’s musings. Do you like these posts? Let me know below.

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