DITCHING MODESTY: WHY I'LL NEVER SAY "I'M LUCKY" EVER AGAIN
Several years ago, I was promoted from a Director to a VP at the medical device company I was working for. Following the announcement, there were many warm congratulations from my colleagues. I remember feeling somewhat embarrassed and uncomfortable during these conversations, even though I was very excited about my new role. What inevitably came out of my mouth was something to the effect of “I just feel so lucky to get this opportunity.” Then I’d quickly direct the conversation elsewhere.
I look back on this now and just shake my head. Lucky? I inherited a whole host of challenges and would be throwing everything I had into that role. If anyone was lucky, it was my employer. I wasn’t lucky. I was hard working and determined. I was also nervous and self preserving, and one week into the job I was already mucking it up by making these stupid comments. I’ve promised myself I will never, ever say that I’m lucky again unless I win the lottery and I’m referring to my ability to pick the right six numbers in the right order for power ball.
I’ve known for a while how off base and potentially harmful my comments were. The gift of hindsight. I had a hard time articulating why until I read Untamed, Glennon Doyle’s third memoir. Yes third, and yes you should read it.
Towards the end of Glennon’s book, she elegantly explains why my bone-head comments really were such a bad idea. She says, “Every time you pretend to be less than you are, you steal permission from other women to exist fully. Don’t mistake modesty for humility. Modesty is a giggly lie. An act. A mask. A fake game. We have no time for it.”
Reading those words, I instantly thought back to the promotion and my comments about it. By downplaying my own abilities, I was putting up a blockade for other women seeking to advance their careers at the company. I might as well have said, “Well, you can be as hard working and capable and determined as you want, but promotions of female colleagues really come down to whether your number is drawn.” Ridiculous, and totally inaccurate. Of course, that’s not what I meant to convey. So why did I say that? I blame Heidi and Howard.
There’s a well-known case originally taught by Frank Flynn at Columbia Business School. It’s cited often and become commonly known as the Howard/Heidi case. Flynn asked students to read a case based on Heidi Roizen, a venture capitalist in the Silicon Valley. Half the students were given Heidi’s original case and half were given another version where the venture capitalist’s name had been changed to Howard. Students rated the two as equally competent, but they were much harsher on Heidi than they were on Howard. They didn’t like her, wouldn’t hire her and wouldn’t want to work with her. The cases were identical, except for the name. So what was going on here? Gender bias, by both male and female students. Women who are seen as assertive, authoritative or dominant, traits traditionally linked with leadership, tend not to be viewed positively. This is not the case for male leaders.
Back to my lucky comment. Without having read the Howard/Heidi case, I had instinctively downplayed my success, for fear of being viewed less favorably by my colleagues. As head of HR, it was important that employees regarded me as warm, open and supportive. Being generally well regarded was important to my job. So I downplayed my promotion. And perpetuated the cycle.
After reading Untamed, I realize that by responding the way I did, I let myself and my colleagues down. The modesty I used to protect myself from being disliked was so instinctive, I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. But I’m aware now, and I will never say those words again. I’m here to support the advancement of women in leadership. I’m ready to be brave and say I am good at what I do, and I deserve all of the success that comes my way. The women I know and work with and care about deserve to say that too, without worrying about whether people will still like them if they take on a new leadership role, or start a successful business, or generally kick ass at anything else they endeavor to do.
My advice, regardless of your gender or position in the world: let go of modesty. Strike the “I’m lucky” phrases from your vernacular. Stand up and show everyone how amazing you really are. As Glennon Doyle would say, “You’re a goddam Cheetah.”
Are you guilty of habitually downplaying your success or abilities? A coach can be a great partner for identifying these responses and replacing them with messages of confidence and candor. Contact me for a complimentary coaching session.
