There is a lot of chat about inner narratives in the place where wellness and career meet. Brene Browns comes at it in terms of our resilience… the stories we tell ourselves about our experiences frame those moments and influence where we go next. Mindset coach Ben Crowe focuses on the words his clients use to define who they are and what they value, because it changes who you are and what you value. As a journalist, I know the power of words. And yet in a very fundamental way, I have not given them the weight they deserve when it comes to my own sense-of-self...

When I was in highschool, the thing I most remember thinking most often about myself is that I was a B student. I knew in all of my being (which is ridiculous) that I belonged just below that top mark. Not average, but not the best. I was comfortable there, above the throng but not having to compete for the top. What I now know is that I could have easily applied myself and tipped those odds in my favour. I had what it took to compete… except the belief I could. My narrative built a wall around what I was willing to strive to achieve. 

In my 20s, if I look back, I had this very clear idea that I made a great wing-woman. Someone who should support the person making all the decisions. A cheerleader of sorts. Why did I think this? Did someone tell me this? Was it easier to hide my light under a bushel? Was it because I shied away from competing for what I wanted? When I think about what I had to offer, I can see that what held me back more than any raw talent was that I was not willing to put into words that I could do more. I thought the roles I got offered were the roles I deserved. I didn’t realise that so often, it works the other way. What you get is what you dare to have the courage to reach for.

The ten years I spent keeping my work life alive while navigating small children and family life, figuring out the piece of of me I would honour in the face of the immense workload a family brings… that’s when things became more complicated. 

It’s amazing how quickly you lose confidence when you’re not part of a team. When you work outside of one and feel only as good as the last project you were offered. And so a feeling a gratitude started to dominate my career choices. When employers saw value in what I had to offer, I was grateful. When they offered work that didn’t feel to onerous, I was grateful. And that means you take whatever someone offers you… instead of asking: Is this what I want? Is this what I am worth?  

Around this time I began to see my career and my work as secondary, a slippery slope that, statistics tell me, many women find themselves on. It’s like a hedge… you step away for a year and then another and then another, while your partner starts to carry the financial burden. Keeps stepping up and up. And you are incredibly grateful, but also, protective of that investment. When we invest time at home and give our partners the privilege of continuing on in their careers, their success can feel like our own success. And while in some ways it is… in many other and potentially more important ways, it is not. 

And then in my 40s, something shifted again. Something woke up in me that had been dormant. I wriggled out from underneath expectations around balance and motherhood and work and what it meant to be getting everything right. I cared less about things being messy and stretched and difficult. I reflected on how I had let offers and flattery direct the early part of my career. And I thought back on that young woman, and how much she had to offer… when she didn’t even know it. 

And so I started to ask a question of opportunities I came across: If not now, then when? If not me, then who? I began to see my life experience as an edge. I began to think about the things I didn’t know as being within my grasp, and the skillset I did have as being much harder to teach. This confidence began as a quiet thrum. And it became something that pushed me on when doubt edged into my decisions. It helps me push aside that voice:“just be happy with what you have!” and “who are you to ask for more?”

As a writer, I have told so many people’s stories. And yet for a long time, I failed to honour the story I was telling myself about me. I won’t do that again.