Most Likely to Succeed?
Two weeks ago I wrote about the messages we tell ourselves and the words we use with our children. This week, I’m reflecting on how the narratives I heard growing up impacted me today and how to avoid making the same mistakes. Many of us learned the phrase “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” But what if the words we were using were supposed to be compliments? What if we thought we were being “nice?”
I grew up doing well in school. I graduated salutatorian from my high school, magna cum laude from undergrad, and with a 4.0 GPA out of grad school. When my friends would taunt me in middle school, it was done in a loving way that we all thought of as favorable, myself included. When I would walk to the front of the classroom to collect my graded test, paper, etc. I would be called “Miss 100” complete with my friends holding their fingers in the shape of the number 100 over their eyes and humming a little tune. (Did you just try to imitate that look? If no one is looking, try using your fingers as binoculars, then pop up your right hand pointer finger.) I was reminded by my parents, friends, teachers, and other mentors how bright, capable, and mature I was. Everyone thought this was a good thing. And to an extent, it was.
Those around me, both my peers and my mentors, were lifting me up by celebrating my strengths. I just wrote about how we could all do a better job of this, of voicing our admiration for others. The problem lay in the fact that I was only praised for one strength, so much so that I began to equate my self worth with this one feature. I watched as others around me were applauded for attributes like being funny, beautiful, athletic, creative, artistic, talented, lovable. For senior year superlatives, I was voted “Most Likely to Succeed.” It didn’t come as a surprise. It reinforced what I knew to be true about myself at only age 18. I was someone who would strive to do well in life. But what about the rest of me?
Would I be most likely to succeed with romantic relationships, friendships, expressing my creativity, having fun, living a life I would be happy with and proud of? Life is so much more than just academic or career success. When I went away to college, I worked to pay bills, volunteered with student organizations, and maintained incredible grades with little to moderate effort. However, in trying to attract friends and romance, I made some poor choices. Part of that decision-making was due to me being a young adult with newfound freedom, but largely it was because I felt a void in how I was valued. Achieving good grades had earned me respect from my teachers but not the love of my peers. I wanted to feel beautiful, admired, funny, cool, and ultimately seen. I sought that kind of attention, sometimes in unhealthy ways. I’ll share a story soon about a not-so-wonderful relationship I had during those influential years. I just need a bit more time to muster up the courage and the words to face that history.
I remember knowing that I would probably receive “Most Likely to Succeed” and being so jealous of the person I knew would likely be voted “Best All Around.” There were only a couple handfuls of students who received superlatives. Most students weren’t acknowledged at all and others of us were put into a box at a young age as we embarked on the next step of our lives trying to figure out what we should aspire to be, personally and professionally. Why can’t we all be voted “Good All Around?” Why can’t we impart that messaging on our children? I’m not a fan of participation trophies and I’m not suggesting that you praise your son who trips over his own two feet for how athletic he is or your daughter who can’t carry a tune for how musically talented she is. I’m saying to acknowledge their whole personhood, to make them feel seen beyond just one attribute, to instill that their value lies outside of one strength they may possess. When we are told over and over how we are one thing, we start to think we can’t be anything else.
This doesn’t just happen to nerdy high schoolers who were repeatedly told they could achieve a successful career while rarely hearing praise for other features. A high school friend was recently sharing with another friend of ours how she had made poor choices while trying to get people to take her seriously. She is incredibly smart, but she grew up always being reminded how attractive she was and started to play into that role, sometimes too heavily. My daughter also frequently hears how beautiful she is, especially when she hasn’t yet pulled the bow off her head. When I hear these comments from others or myself, I am reminded to highlight other attributes throughout the day.
There are moments when I do tell my daughter she’s adorable or beautiful, especially when she has just looked in the mirror and told herself the same. That confidence is such an attractive trait! I also tell her she is clever or smart when her arguments are too good to counter or she surprises me with knowledge I didn’t realize she had yet obtained. I tell her she is brave when she faces a fear and strong when she falls and brushes off the dirt. I tell her she is funny when she puts stickers all over her face and calls herself a clown. I want her to know she is all of those things and more.
More importantly, I make sure she knows that I love her as she is, that she is valuable as a human being. I try to encourage her uniqueness. At night I tell her the following: “I love you. I am proud of you. I am grateful for you. I am excited for what’s to come for you.” Those things are inherent: my love, pride, appreciation, and excitement for her and her life ahead. No matter her strengths or weaknesses, those feelings will not change. I hope that hearing those confirmations encourages her to express the same sentiments to others. I hope she lifts up those she loves just for being uniquely themselves, and I hope I do too. I hope I am mindful with the words I use to praise other children (and adults). If you are someone in my life, know this: I love you. I am proud of you. I am grateful for you. I am excited for what’s to come for you.
