The Problem with Being Unbelievable
I don’t like talking about myself, generally. I hate humblebrags, I hate pridefulbrags if that’s a thing. Because I work among human beings(this sounds like I’m not one), I work with egos. Big, hairy, sweaty egos. And what I find most egos are built on is sort of like an intricate lacework of spun glass more than a rigid beam of iron. When one is referred to as having a fragile ego, there is a sense of them being unable to receive criticism and though that’s usually true, in this situation I’m referring to, it’s a little more particular than that.
I have worked with a number of people who have spent their whole lives building massive careers based on success after success. Each of their successes pushed them a little further into their industry, into their niche. Inch by inch, they found themselves more where they wanted to be. So now, where they stand is so particular, so specific, that should they desire to turn and have an adventure, that lacework of spun glass would shatter like a Prince Rupert’s Drop. It would be hard as nails one moment and the next a flurry of cutting glitter.
Whereas, I seem to have the opposite problem. If you told me I had to learn neurosurgery in order to save one of my children’s lives and I had to learn it in a month, I would. And I recognize that sounds like bragging. It’s not meant to be. I have failed in so many things I have put my mind to, but I have learned from those failures each and every time. I have grown from it so that I can stand, steadily, upon about six different skillsets now. If you said, tomorrow, that I don’t get to do leadership, well then I’d just go make a film. And if you said I can’t make a film, I would just turn and lead teams of people towards some crazy fantastic goal.
And the real issue, when it comes down it, the rub if you will, is that I am somewhat unbelievable. Again, this sounds like bragging, but I mean it in the literal sense of the word. Most people just don’t believe I can do what I say I can do. And that’s okay. It actually presents me with a wonderful gift of humility that people just don’t believe I can and will do what I say I can and will do. When someone says, “I don’t like spicy food,” and I give them something spicy they love? It’s a gift tinged with a little bit of curse. On the one hand, they were prepared to hate what I offered. On the other, they were pleased in the end.
People don’t believe I am what I am. And I find, in that, a sense of who I really am. I’m unbelievable… at first.