How to be Awesome™
Or, “Shifting perspective in order to see yourself.”
I can’t see myself.
No, it’s not that; my eyes work just fine, and my one mirror is kept polished. You know, when I care. Rather, what I mean is that my self-assessment is often at odds with how my friends and coworkers see me. And you may be familiar with this, if you’ve heard any of these before:
“You’re a great (guy, girl). Why wouldn’t anyone want to date you?”
“It’s not you; it’s them [relationship, co-worker, job].”
“You’re an amazing [thing-doer].”
Those who share my field of work (software development) might even be familiar with the fairly popular Impostor Syndrome, and how it could exacerbate one’s panic about “incorrect” self-assessment.
Where I’m going with this
There are myriad articles about self-esteem, improving self-worth, learning to assess yourself more objectively, and what have you. This is not one of those articles.
In fact, I realized yesterday why this “self-worth-blindness” might be a good thing. At least, for me.
Context
Have you ever recorded a song?
I’m fortunate in that I taught myself to work with recording equipment, and have written/performed/recorded some stuff within the last 10 years. The biggest improvement to my vocal tracks came when I couldn’t hear myself while recording.
When recording yourself, you want to make sure that you can hear the instrument you’ll be adding vocals to, but in such a way that it doesn’t overwhelm you. Your vocal track can usually be “monitored” so you hear yourself on the track (audio layer), in addition to everything else. (Like singing into a plugged-in mic and hearing yourself via a nearby speaker or headphones.)
I found this distracting. It forced me to sing against myself — either by focusing my attention on my notes, or my voice. Once I muted my own track, however, I could focus instead on singing along with the instruments.
So what does this have to do with self-assessment? Well, sometimes, being unable to see yourself as expletive-amazing might not be a bad thing — as long as you don’t dwell on it.
Blinded by perspective
My shift in perspective involved two things:
* First, accepting that others think I’m pretty awesome (instead of choosing my self-deprecating views over that). This, of course, is slightly more complex than it seems, because it involved a long (on-going) battle over learning how to accept compliments.
* Second was realizing what I stated above: that being blind to your true self-worth is not bad if it galvanizes you to continue being awesome.
I may privately — and less-frequently, now — think I’m less awesome than my friends view me, but I choose to be as awesome as they see me in public. This, critically, includes being kind to yourself when you mess up. Awesome people aren’t awesome all the time — but people readily forgive them when they aren’t.
Sight at last
What use is a flashlight in a lit room? To borrow an expression, it is like “[urinating] in the ocean to raise its levels.”
Being awesome is less about being a star than about being a light-source. And, for you, being awesome is about how your interactions enrich others, not how rich you think your interactions with others are.
So it’s okay to think you’re not that awesome, sometimes— as long as it doesn’t stop you from being as awesome as others think you are.
Because, let’s face it: you, are a beautiful animal.
