Are You Arguing For Your Limitations?
There’s a quote by Kelly Lee Phipps, “If you argue for your limitations, you get to keep them.” The first time I heard this quote it was listening to Marie Forleo’s book, “Everything is Figureoutable.”
That quote hit me like a ton of bricks.
If I argue for my limitations, I get to keep them? Whoa. Wait a minute. Pause the audiobook. Rewind, listen five more times, and then Google the quote. I read it several times over, and I thought to myself, So the only thing keeping these limitations attached to me is… me?
The funny thing is, I’d probably heard this said a dozen different ways over the course of my life.
Yoda: “Do or do not, there is no try.”
Henry Ford: “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t — you’re right.”
Etc.
But something about hearing it in Ms. Forleo’s audio book was different.
I thought back to so many times in my life where I was the limiting factor. When I was in the US Air Force, we called this a “LIMFAC” — this term refers to the weakest or most inefficient part of a machine or process. A person can be a LIMFAC too.
Why would anyone be their own LIMFAC, essentially standing in the way of their own success? That’s a great question, and the answer usually lies in fear.
When I thought back over my life and career, I realized there were key points where I definitely argued for my limitations.
Lesson One — The 25-year Grad School Decision
When I was 23 years old, I wanted to get a graduate degree in counseling. I was newly married, and my husband was already in graduate school. I told myself that it would be too complicated for both of us to go to school at the same time.
Married, no kids, no real obligations outside of my job, but I fixed it in my head — somehow it would be too complicated.
Right.
Actually, looking back, I realize I was afraid of doing something new. I earned my undergraduate degree at the US Air Force Academy. While an extremely rigorous program, it is a military academy, and there wasn’t a lot I had to figure out on my own because there was a basic structure for most of my educational requirements and decisions.
Subconsciously, I think I knew graduate school would be something completely different. I would have to find and choose the school, program, and work out all the details of financing, military scholarships, and be in school with a wide range of people from all different walks of life. I like people, but that was very unfamiliar to me at that time in my life. I was very used to, and comfortable with, the military structure.
I know now that I could have easily figured all that out, but I let the fear of the unknown stop me. Because of that, I ended up waiting 25 years to finally go back to grad school. A quarter century! I have no regrets, but I wonder what the trajectory of my career would have been if I had taken that leap and not gotten in my own way.
Lesson Two: In Defense of My Comfort Zone
Another time when I argued for my limitations was when I completed my public health graduate school program. I was still serving in the USAF Reserves, but I’d been out of the full time workforce for around 10 years.
Getting a job in the “civilian sector” was completely foreign to me.
At the same time, I was going through a divorce. I argued to myself that a hard-charging 9–5 job would be too difficult on my kids, and it would interfere with a public health consulting business I had co-founded that year. And I had a secret — I had never interviewed for a job in my adult life. The military system was much different.
When offered a part time job that the school where I had gotten my master’s degree, I readily accepted it. I didn’t even have to interview. The job was pretty easy, and I liked the people. The problem was, I was scraping by on a fraction of the salary I’d made when I left active duty as a captain ten years earlier, but I planted my feet firmly and did it anyway. That was 10 years ago. Again, no regrets, but lessons learned for sure.
Lesson Three: Letting Opportunity Pass Me By
I did the same thing when a friend who was moving out of state referred me for a job interview for her soon-to-be vacant role at a state foundation. I had been promoted at the university by this time, but the new position, if I got it, would have increased my salary by about 30 percent. It would have also required some travel and learning the ins and outs of a new organization.
I was still side hustling in my public health consulting business, and I convinced myself the new job would probably interfere with my consulting, so I turned down the interview when they called me.
Looking back, that seems so stupid to me. The worst part is that my business partner and I ended up closing the consulting business down when she got an offer for a full time job that was just too good to pass up.
I was genuinely happy for her, but the irony of my decision smacked me in the face.
If I had decided to go for the new job, I know my business partner would have been as supportive of me as I was of her. But I know now that I let fear of a new thing, fear of change, fear of interviewing, and fear of leaving the only civilian employer I’d ever had get in my way.
I ended up staying at the university and had to continually change jobs to advance. I was still trying to claw my way back to the level I’d been when I got off active duty. I was not even close to where I wanted to be at that point in my career.
The Wake Up: Getting Out of My Own Way
I grew tired of smashing my head against glass ceilings at the university. Last year, I learned about a new opportunity for a corporate job that seemed like a great fit. It included a major change in compensation and responsibility in a company that fosters growth and development.
This time, I didn’t let the opportunity go by. Instead of arguing for my limitations, I told myself I was the best person for the job, and that was the attitude I maintained throughout interview process, which I think I rocked!
Concern that I wasn’t going to be able to continue developing my accountability coaching business almost stopped me, but I shook that thought and put my all into getting the job. I decided that I was going to work it out, no matter what.
I got the job, and I launched my coaching business about 9 months later.
Victory!
For once, I had learned how to break out of my negative cycle and stop being my own LIMFAC. I came out the other side much better for it. I decided I would do whatever I had to do to be able to maintain my 9–5 and also my family, life, and side hustle on the other side of the clock.
What was the difference?
Instead of trying to find a way around the fear and uncertainty, I embraced it. I leaned on my faith, my training and experience, and everything I’ve learned. I knew it was possible to work it out. It just took me a while (like 27 years) to completely get it.
One thing about that Kelly Lee Phipps quote — most times when I find it online, it’s only the first sentence, but there’s a second sentence that balances it perfectly — here’s the rest of the quote:
“But if you argue for your possibilities you get to create them!”
That was exactly what I had done, and it worked like a charm. I promised myself that I’m never going back to arguing for my limitations again.
I’m determined to keep arguing for the possible, and I hope you will too.
