Tag: competition

How My Dad’s Advice to Let Someone Else Shine Created My Fear of Success

“Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing is the very thing that will set you free.” ~Robert Tew

Everyone has fears. It is not an emotion that is only for a chosen few. One’s fear may seem irrational to the outside world, but I guarantee to that person it is debilitating. So much so, that it shapes their perspective and how they see the world. My fear is of success.

I know what you’re thinking. “That doesn’t make sense at all. Who doesn’t want to be successful?” Well, let me explain what I mean.

You see, I am an introvert, so I don’t really want to draw attention to myself at all. My “success” is a personal gain, not a flashy show of pride to the world.

I wasn’t quite sure where this fear of success began until this year when I was talking to my wife. Our discussions brought up a memory that I am sure started this fear.

When I was twelve years old, I loved basketball. It was my all-time favorite sport. You had to be good individually but also as a team.

Being introverted, I had to work hard at the latter, but it was a challenge I was willing to take on because I loved the game so much. I practiced all day every day. My grandma even brought me a basketball hoop to put in her driveway so I could practice. (This was a big deal because she loved her yard and thought the hoop made it look less appealing.)

Nonetheless, I got good and made the basketball team. So now I could work more on the team aspect.

One day I was at my cousin’s house, and we were playing basketball. A teammate lived across the street. After my game with my cousin, she came over and challenged me to a game one on one. I agreed

As we were playing, I noticed she became more intense and aggressive. I didn’t pay much attention to it and just kept playing. When I won the game, I went toward her to say, “nice game.”

She threw the ball at me and ran toward her house crying. I was so confused. My dad saw and made me go with him to her house, where she was sitting on the porch.

He asked her what was wrong. She said, “Why does she have to be so good? She always wins. I’m not even a starter because of her.”

My dad pulled me to the side and said, “You don’t have to be good all the time. Why don’t you let her win sometimes?”

I remember being confused. My twelve-year-old mind couldn’t understand why my dad would want me to lessen myself so that someone else could achieve, even though I worked hard. But he was my dad, and she was crying.

Later, I found out that the girl was the niece of my dad’s future wife. I guess he was trying to impress her. But that’s a story for a different blog.

From that time on I questioned the results of my success. If I succeeded would people be upset? Would I be taking someone else’s spot? Would this person hate me? Should I not try my best?

This fear of success became a big deal in my twenties. At that time, I decided to make good on a goal I set for myself when I was in high school—to become a poet like Maya Angelou and Nicki Giovanni and a writer like John Grisham.

At that time, I was working at a tutoring center, and there was this nice older gentleman name GW. He always saw me writing in my journal, and one day he invited me to an open poetry mic night that he held on Fridays in a barn.

I didn’t think much of it. When I went home, I looked up the guy and learned that he was a famous poet. So, I decided to take him up on his offer to attend.

It was great, everyone was kind and just wanted to share their work. After a couple of visits as a spectator, GW asked me when I was going to share my work. The thought was scary for me.

It took so much for me to even attend. I told him I was just enjoying being there. He then said something that I hold on to even to this day.

He said, “When you are a writer you have to become two people: the author Nesha and the regular Nesha. The regular Nesha can be afraid and introverted. But the author Nesha needs to be strong, confident, and want success, not fear it.”

He then told me he was going to feature me as the poet of the night, where I would do a set of my poems for fifteen minutes for everyone. I reluctantly agreed.

It took so much for me not to cancel. I had to constantly tell myself, “This is author Nesha.” I had to work on being in a room where all the attention was on me. It was a lot, but I’m glad I did it

This fear of success is tough to deal with, especially as I continue to pursue my writing career. I feel as though I have multiple personalities. “Author Nesha” wants success. I want to be a famous writer with people reading my books.

“Regular Nesha” is introverted and just wants to write because I love it. “Regular Nesha” is afraid. I am afraid that I will get successful, and everyone will criticize my art that I worked so hard on.

Will people say I shouldn’t be where I am because I am not good enough? Will I be taking someone’s spot? Will people want to meet me, touch me, speak to me?

This fear of success has also morphed a bit into social anxiety. When I do open mics (which is rare because of my fears) I need to have my wife by my side.

I remember one time I did an open mic, and as I was speaking, I noticed this woman crying and staring intently at me. My mind began to swirl with so many questions. Why is she staring at me? Does she think my work is bad? Will she want to talk to me?

When I was done, I walked to my seat near my wife. The woman came and sat behind us. She touched my shoulder, which brought fear to my heart. I turned around. She was still crying.

She said, “Your words brought me so much joy. I am crying because I recently lost my mom and your poem reminded me of her.” It was happening! Someone was talking to me!

All I could think was, this is going to spiral into a full-blown conversation. All I could muster up was “I’m glad you liked the poem, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

That night was difficult and exhilarating. Difficult because so many people came up to me and wanted to talk and shake my hand, and I was so afraid and had so many thoughts flying through my head. Exhilarating because OH MY GOD! People liked me!

This battle between “Author Nesha” and “Regular Nesha” is something I deal with daily. Not only in my pursuit of being a writer but in other aspects of my life.

I am an English teacher by day. In my staff meetings, I’m afraid to share my ideas because what if I succeed and some people like them? Will they expect me to always have good ideas? What if others are upset at me or think less of me because of my ideas?

But then again, I want to share my thoughts because I worked hard on them and feel like they are worthy to be shared.

I know you’re thinking, how do you survive? Well, first, I had to acknowledge that what my dad did when I was twelve was not right. He may have thought he was doing the right thing, but he should never have told me to dim my light so someone else could shine.

Second, I try to do things out of my comfort zone. For example, in my staff meeting we were discussing how to improve student motivation. Usually, I don’t speak, but I pushed myself to share what I do in my class, and they loved it.

Of course, I couldn’t help but question If they really loved it, or if someone was upset about my idea, but I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on what I can actually see and hear.

Finally, success is relative. My idea of success may not be someone else’s idea of success, and that’s okay. By learning these things, I can now follow through on things that scare “Regular Nesha,” and that is me facing my fear of success.

March 2, 2022
Was I An Overachiever or Really Just Trying to Prove My Worth?

“I spend an insane amount of time wondering if I’m doing it right. At some point I just remind myself that I’m doing my best. That is enough.” ~Myleik Teele

Just one more client. Just one more call. Just one more. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Then, maybe, just maybe, I will feel validated. Worthy. Appreciated.

That’s how success works, right? Everyone has to like you, think you’re amazing, and recognize all of your hard work for you to be successful? I learned the hard way that this is the path to overwhelm, burnout, and a massive anxiety disorder. Because, you have to grind it out for that business; forget your physical, emotional, and mental health.

Let’s not scapegoat my business, however; my lack of self-worth started years, decades even before I opened my former company.

As the oldest of three, I was expected to achieve.

In middle school, I played competitively on an AAU (Amateur Athletic Union) basketball team. I remember never feeling good enough, tying my self-worth up in what my coach thought of me, if our team won or not, or if I scored a certain number of points. Something I loved became something I despised.

Playing basketball in high school left me feeling empty and like fraud. If I wasn’t the best, who was I? The performative pressure was suffocating.

The overachiever in me was never satisfied, never okay with mediocre.

In high school, I took the SAT three times to earn the scholarship I needed to pay for most of my education. I got into the top state schools and even some private colleges. I couldn’t apply to just one. I had to apply to just one more.

With each letter of acceptance, I felt validated. Like I actually belonged and that my life held meaning. Maybe then, when I got into my dream school, I would be worthy, and all of this anxiety would be worth it.

“Where are you going in the fall”? I remember not knowing how to answer that question.

Wanting to go to college and actually going were two very different things.

My parents sent me to a private college prep school, where we were practically reading through course catalogs freshman year. I thought it was something that was next in the sequence of achievements.

On the way home from a college tour in the spring, my mom told me I had to pay for room and board. I just had to figure out how. I ended up staying in my hometown and going to community college, which was a blow to my eighteen-year-old ego. I was devastated, angry with my parents, and frustrated about all the hard work I had put in with nothing to show for it.

My self-worth was in the tank; my need to prove myself was at an all-time high. So was that constant, chirping companion, anxiety.

After two years of community college, I transferred to a state college and chose education as my major. I wanted to be a leader, a catalyst for change, a visionary. I made the Dean’s list, worked my way through college, and even got married.

After I graduated, I taught physical education and was also athletic director of a grade school. I believed that by using my degree I worked so hard for, I would finally be happy and fulfilled. Instead, the position came with a principal who gaslit and bullied me daily, at the time taking away any joy that I had in my chosen field. But I had worked so hard for this. Shouldn’t that be enough?

Working hard was always a badge of honor I wore proudly; more accolades from others to put into the validation tank. All the while, I never felt worthy. As the things I’d worked so hard for were taken away from me, I began to wonder if success was even in the cards.

I felt lost. Undeserving. I was focused on my first year of marriage, teaching, and working on extended family relationships. Would I ever be accepted?

If I tried hard enough, they would like me, the overachiever in me believed.

But wait, was I really an overachiever? Maybe it was something deeper?

Was I just addicted to working hard because I was trying to prove my worth and gain approval?

With a full-blown anxiety disorder, depression, a drinking problem, and zero boundaries, I entered my thirties thinking that if I just made it in business, I would be whole.

What a crock.

The patriarchal standards I had tried to measure up to, were the same ones holding me back from living a life of peace. If I just, “hustled,” and “grinded,” despite the effects on my mental, emotional, and physical health, I could finally prove my worth. All that ended up proving was that mental health matters. My work is not my worthiness.

So how did I go from codependent thinking and seeking validation outside of myself to understanding that we are all born worthy?

First, I had to decide what really lights me up like a firecracker. Passion, playfulness, and purpose are lost when you were trained to look outside yourself for validation.

I’d spent my life focused on achievement. What did “success” even mean? It wasn’t until I was well into my thirties that I realized success, to me, means freedom, and freedom meant letting go.

I had to then get radically honest with myself about my upbringing, my relationships with family members, my belief system, and what I wanted out of life.

Did I really want to run the service-based business I’d started after I quit my teaching job, with several employees, ongoing calls and emails, that had me working holidays, nights, and weekends, and that left me in a people-pleasing tailspin on a regular basis?

My honest answer: No.

Relief washed over me. Not regret, longing, or sadness.

Relief.

I then realized I needed to let go of people-pleasing, overachieving, and the need for external validation in other aspects of my life, which meant doing some radical boundary setting and self-reflection.

Looking back through my years of wearing my hard work in school as a badge of honor, drowning in my former business like a sacrificial lamb, and navigating the sometimes-chaotic waters of a new marriage and family, I can finally understand that my worthiness doesn’t come from others. I am good enough as I am. My oneness comes from within, not from outside accolades.

Getting to the root cause of the unworthiness, worry, and workaholism was a deep dive into my childhood and young adulthood. I realized I carried toxic shame and guilt and believed that if I was just “enough,” I would be able to finally be free.

Turns out, the complete opposite is true. Chasing becomes all-encompassing. I had been treading water; doggie-paddling, not knowing that the pool of people-pleasing I was swimming in was keeping me stuck.

These days, creating takes the place of hard work, clarity takes the place of drinking to cope, and self-compassion takes the place of validation-seeking to prove my worth. And that toxic friend named Anxiety? She still likes to show up unannounced, but I have the self-acceptance and healthy internal dialogue to keep our interactions short.

Take it from this former overachiever: You are worth more than your work and your accomplishments. Just one more client? Just one more call? Not anymore. Now I just choose freedom.

February 1, 2022
When I Stopped Competing, I Set Myself Free

“With nothing to compare yourself to, aren’t you perfect?” ~Byron Katie

I have never liked competition. Every time I compete, I feel pressured and disconnected from others. I love harmony, peace, collaboration, and win-win situations, kind of like “me happy, you happy.” I don’t need to watch another person lose the game to feel good about myself. I don’t need to dominate or put someone else down in order to feel superior and worthy.

In some cultures, competing is perceived as a sign of ambition, power, and strength. Most of us grew up hearing constant comparisons, which turned into a habit during our adult lives:

“Do I look better than her? I want to be slimmer.”

“How much is he earning? I want more.”

“Where does she live? I want a house at least that size.”

And so on…

In my home country, Romania, like in many other places, the schooling system was a fierce competition to get the best grades and be the first in the class. As a child, I remember spending an average of ten hours a day studying and doing homework during weekdays. I hardly had any time to play and relax.

Teachers were always making comparisons between students, parents would compare their children to their friends’ or neighbors’ kids, and no one truly encouraged individual talents.

As a result of this conditioning, I ended up struggling with serious self-esteem issues for many years. As a young woman, I didn’t see myself as good enough, beautiful enough, smart enough, or successful enough, and I desperately tried to be perfect.

When I wasn’t competing with other people, I was competing with myself. I was always striving to be the best friend I could be, the best daughter, or the best employee at work. Pleasing others was addictive because I felt validated whenever I heard “well done!” And then I wanted to do even better.

I am not here to blame. I am not a victim. My parents did the best they could at the time, and society did the best it knew, so I am not blaming but instead looking for hidden and limiting beliefs that have worked against me. Here’s what I have realized I need to do:

1. Stop competing with other people.

“Comparing yourself to others is an act of violence against your authentic self.” ~Iyanla Vanzant

Our society often encourages competition. There are some circumstances when we have no choice but to compete—when applying for a new position at work or attending job interviews, for example. However, there are situations when we make the rules, and the choice is entirely up to us. We can live our own lives and mind our own journey, or we can choose to compete with others over who’s more attractive, wealthier, happier, or more successful.

During my single years, I often compared myself to other women. Most of them seemed settled; they were married and had the house, the men, the kids, and the dog. I used to feel like a failure, as if something were wrong with me. I met my husband when I was thirty-six. We were two Romanians working in Asia, for the same company. Small world, indeed. We’ve been happily married for four years now.

So here what I’ve learned: Everyone is on their own path, and we all do what’s right for ourselves, in our own time. I believe we live in a supportive Universe where everything unfolds perfectly—at the right time, in the right place. Comparing ourselves to others is an infinite source of stress and frustration, and it doesn’t serve us well.

2. Stop competing against myself.

“Doing your best is more important than being the best.” ~Zig Ziglar

Perfection is nothing but pure fiction, an illusion created by our minds. It’s also a learned practice. Most of us were raised to constantly strive to become better people—to focus on our flaws and perceived limitations—and we either take our strengths for granted or aren’t even aware of them.

While we are all learning from our experiences and mistakes, we also need to be aware of our gifts and talents. We need to celebrate our uniqueness and detach ourselves from the toxic habit of comparing ourselves to others.

Yet here I am, in my forties, still reading about infinite ways to become a better human. With so much focus on the need for improvement, particularly in the personal development industry, I wonder when I am ever supposed to turn into the best version of myself and find peace.

So I’ve stopped competing with myself. I refuse to fight against myself so that I can reach the end of the tunnel, and I am no longer waiting for the magical day when I will become perfect and faultless.

Why turn my life into a never-ending competition? True friendship is not about competing against each other. It’s about support and collaboration. Why act as my competitor when I can be my own best friend?

As the Chinese proverb says, “Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”

If I am to spend my precious time waiting to grow into the best of myself, there will always be something to change, add, fix, or transform so that I can finally feel whole and complete.

Life doesn’t have to be such a daily struggle. I don’t have to fix myself because I am not broken.

I embrace the entire repertoire of my humanity with self-love and compassion. I choose not to be a “work in progress.” My desire for growth is about taking each day as an opportunity to learn more about life and myself.

That’s how I discover who I really am and what brings me genuine happiness and fulfillment. By releasing old patterns and limiting beliefs that don’t serve me well, I get closer to my real human essence. My life is all about experiencing things as they come. It is a journey of self-discovery, not self-improvement.

Since I changed my perspective, I’ve stopped beating myself up. I now talk to myself kindly. I treat myself with dignity and respect. I know I am worthy of the best things life has to offer, and it is my birthright to be happy. My happiness is nothing to compete or fight for.

I also choose to see myself as perfectly beautiful and beautifully imperfect. I celebrate my mistakes as much-needed opportunities for growth. I celebrate both success and failure because this is what makes me wiser. I treat every life experience as an opportunity to learn new things about myself and other people.

Furthermore, I’ve learned to forgive myself for my mistakes in the same way I forgive others, knowing I am also human. As a student at the school of life, I will sometimes rise and sometimes fall, and that is okay. I no longer strive to become the best version of myself. Instead, I always do the best I can. When I know I’ve done the best I could, there’s no room for regrets. Whenever I know better, I do better.

I am enough and worthy, so I don’t need to prove myself to anyone. Not even to myself. Newborns and babies do not compete against each other. They love and approve of themselves as they are. In our competition-oriented society, we need to remind ourselves more of our true nature, which is balanced, loving, and peaceful.

I believe the world needs fewer fighters and competitors. The world needs more givers, peacemakers, and soul nurturers, and it also needs more compassion.

The day I stopped competing against myself and others, I set myself free.

Artwork by Rebecca Freeman

September 20, 2018
I Am in Competition with No One

Source: Collective Evolution

January 30, 2016
I Am in Competition with No One

July 19, 2015
We’re Not Against Each Other: Choosing Cooperation Over Competition

“If you light a lamp for someone else, it will also brighten your path.” ~Buddha

It’s long been declared that the nature of life is based on survival of the fittest; that we all must constantly compete to survive.

And maybe, in some ways this is true.

But what if there were another truth, something that is even more powerful than competition?

What if cooperation is our true natural state?

Consider this: love is more powerful than hate.

Hope is more powerful than fear.

And if we believe in love and hope, then we believe in the power of unity. We believe in the force of positive energy.

In my own life, I have experienced the power of cooperation. I know how much better life feels when I choose to work with rather than against the people in my world.

When I am willing to find ways to communicate, to release blame and criticism, to connect with the people I share this life with, I open myself to more joy and ease.

When I slip into the mindset of competing with my husband for who has more free time, or who has contributed more to our family, or who has initiated more acts of kindness, I feel detached, separate, and pretty horrible.

This is the underlying effect of competition; we envision ourselves as separate. We lose touch with our interconnectedness, our wholeness, our oneness.

I notice this with my children. When my girls are expressing angst toward one another, I recognize that their antagonistic behavior is not so much about being mean or hateful, but rather a request for attention.

They each want to know that they matter, that they are a valuable part of their family, that they are connected with the people upon whom they rely for nurturing.

It seems to me that perhaps competitive nature is not so much the natural state of being, but rather a result of feeling disconnected from the security and certainty of being part of something greater than ourselves.

I think, in fact, that cooperation is our true nature. We must work together to survive, to thrive, to grow, to evolve.

Not one of us is an island; we know this for sure. But how often do we contemplate the interconnectedness of our lives with every other thing on this planet—even with those from the past and those who will exist in the future?

In the culture where I live, I have seen the idolization of independence, the heralding of the individual as paramount above community, the applause given to those who stand out.

Many claim that these individuals have made their own success and become who they are because of their tenacity and brilliance. And yes, there is something to be said about focus and determination.

But even more, we must recognize that an individual’s success is the result of being part of community.

Malcolm Gladwell explained this so eloquently in Outliers: The Story of Success, “No one—not rock stars, not professional athletes, not software billionaires, and not even geniuses—ever makes it alone.”

The truth is, we are all connected, and this really is a good thing.

As a mama who practices attachment parenting, I have long believed that creating a strong bond between parent and child is essential to building a foundation of trust, security, and confidence. I did not ever consider that this attachment theory can be expanded to include all of our relationships.

Recently I read Hold Me Tight, by Dr. Sue Johnson, in which she clearly elucidates how vital it is for humans to create and nurture attachments to the people in our lives. In fact, these attachments are absolutely essential to our wellness, our ability to thrive, our very existence.

In her writing, Dr. Johnson shatters the notion that being attached to someone, whether a partner, a parent, a child, or a friend, is a negative or weak state of being. Attachment theory teaches us that relying on someone for support and love is the essence of our nature.

Some wonder if being attached may cause us to suffer, but if we are able and willing to let go of relationships when they run their course, attachment does not have to lead to suffering. Honoring the essential nature of change in our lives will help us surrender to releasing a relationship when the time is right.

No matter what, it’s good, even necessary, to be attached to others.

Cooperation truly is our natural state of being.

This is not to say that competition does not have its place in our experience. Sometimes a competitive attitude can be useful, but for the progress of life on our planet, we must learn to embrace a new truth: we are one.

Truly, the more we learn to attach to others, to rely openheartedly on our community, to accept our interconnectedness with grace and joy, the more we will thrive as we move forward.

I remember watching Tom Shadyac’s revolutionary film I Am a few years back and being so moved and excited. This brilliant documentary unveils the truth that even in nature, there is an innate sense of cooperation among animals.

The film reminds us that as we choose unity, we elevate the energy and consciousness of life on our planet. We give ourselves an opportunity to live in greater harmony with our environment and with one another.

I know this may be challenging for some to accept. There are many individuals in my life who absolutely disagree with me. And that’s okay, too. Still, I know what I believe. And I release the need to be right. Instead, I invite us all to question what we believe and to ponder what could be rather than what has been.

So even though a dear relative recently expressed to me that competition will always be the nature of life, that aggression and violence are the most basic actions of all creatures on the planet, that we must know how to protect ourselves in order to stay alive in the midst of any chaos that could ensue from natural disasters…

I still believe in unity.

I recognize that the way humans have existed (for the most part) up until this point has been competitive in nature. We have compared, judged, struggled, oppressed, conquered, and still we strive. And yet, there have also been moments of grace and inspiration throughout time.

Consider the gracious and giving heart of Mother Teresa, the desire to free people from the belief of separateness that MLK, Jr. heralded, of Gandhi’s willingness to put others before his own needs.

Even consider the everyday people who are living from a place of love—people all over the world are awakening and elevating their consciousness, choosing to be of service, to give, to embody pure love.

I see it in the communities flourishing around me where people exchange time rather than money for services.

I see it in the way organizations are shifting their paradigm of business to make giving back a priority.

I see it in the countless people coming together who recognize the value of caring for our environment and our planet.

I see it in the kindness people express with a smile as they pass one another on the street.

Cooperation is anything and everything that helps us feel connected, part of something meaningful. It can be a thought, a touch, a glance, an act, a memory. There are infinite ways of being in this world. Imagine if we made being kind the most important.

In his interview about the most astounding fact in his studies of astrophysics, Dr. Neil DeGrasse Tyson stated, “We all just want to be part of something bigger than us, to feel that sense of connectivity…”

And I agree. Life is meaningful when we share it with others.

So I ask you this: What could happen if we transform our reality, even just our perception of it?

What could happen if we embody the practice of cooperation? Of giving and receiving with an open heart. Of feeling good enough just as we are. Of practicing kindness. Of sharing love. Of truly being the change we wish to see in the world.

Most of us want to live in a world where peace prevails, but are we actually practicing peace in our lives?

Are we aware of when we think critically or judgmentally, about others or ourselves?

Are we aware of when we pull away from the people we love the most out of anger or fear or frustration?

And once we raise our awareness, can we embrace a willingness to change and transform our lives from the inside out?

I invite you to join me on this journey. To choose to see life through the eyes of love. To choose joy and hope over anger and fear. To truly illuminate the light shining brightly within you.

I dare you. Be a revolutionary. Embrace peace and love and unity.

I’m right here next to you.

I believe in us—the daring dreamers, the visionaries, the joy seekers, the love creators.

May 11, 2014
Why Sometimes It’s Good to Be a Loser

I love the word loser. I enjoy playing with it, feeling into it, and feeling my own gut reaction to the idea of allowing myself to be one. Some of the time.

Our culture is obsessed with winning.

At school we learn that we have to compete to get what we want. Many of us grow up internalizing this idea and subtly infusing it into our relationships, friendships, career, and even spiritual path.

If this is strong in us, there can be a pervading sense of alienation, disconnectedness, or even mistrust that we carry around.

In my early days as a Buddhist monk, I remember being almost shocked when I began to see that in the quietude of my mind, in this harmless, benevolent environment, I was secretly measuring myself and others according to how “spiritual” we were.

And I was trying to be the best. I was doing many things, some of them ridiculous in hindsight, to be seen as “better than.”

The flip-side of this was that I never felt good enough. Our fixation with winning is an attempt to cover up this feeling of being somehow deficient.

A couple of years ago, I met an old friend, who asked me what I was doing these days. I replied, somewhat mischievously, “Being a bit of a loser.”

His expression was telling. He looked confused. Then he looked sad for me. Then he asked, “You’re joking right?” (more…)

March 24, 2011