Your Old Mindsets Are Holding You Back
Our phone call is wrapping up and I have a choice to make:
Do I ask the question I've been waiting the entire conversation to ask, or do I keep my mouth shut so I don't risk coming off as woo-woo or too sensitive?
I'm pretty insecure in my masculinity.
My insecurity began when I, like many late bloomers, was terrified to discover the concept of locker room showers after basketball practice. I was already not as fast or strong as the kids who were well into their adolescence, and some of them made fun of my hairless body, so I decided I wasn't an athlete.
In middle school I found both safety and purpose in theater, speech tournaments, student government, writing, film, and leadership camps.
Into high school I confidently sported the identity of a performer, leader, and artist, but continued to feel insecure around people best categorized as: bros.
During college I had lots of friends who were in fraternities and was secretly jealous they had brotherhood I didn't feel comfortable joining because I thought I was defective. To this day when on bachelor parties with them, I feel like an outsider.
As years passed, my youthful insecurities cemented themselves into a narrative about my defectiveness - which I readily believed.
I drank too much in my 20s in an attempt to find confidence in the dating scene and numb my inability to believe I was a good man with plenty of talent and a unique perspective.
I'm still insecure about connecting with dudes who were jocks in high school. When inviting friends to like my Facebook page, I'll skip over the cool guys who had letter jackets because maybe they'll snicker at what I'm doing. Dude - did you see what Reagan's doing? He's a speaker who talks about feelings and self-awareness...
Anytime I interface with someone who was a bro in their youth - or has evolved into a full-grown adult bro - I instinctually feel like I need to power up, show my teeth and prove something about myself, my manliness and my worthiness.
All because I'm carrying a mindset around which is not useful.
Do you have any useless mindsets like mine banging around in your head?
Here's the deal - my fear-of-being-defective mindset developed to help me make sense of pain and push me toward something else. Good or bad, Reagan, you're not an athlete, you're an artist, was the voice I heard and the drum to which I marched.
Here’s what makes things complicated for people like us who want to pick helpful mindsets. My old mindset actually helped me process hurt and find a way to survive and thrive in adolescence. That mindset was useful for a season.
Until it wasn't.
If we want to grow we must start being honest about our blind spots and realize just because a mindset we've held for 20 years is consistent, doesn't mean it's constructive.
Through work with mentors and my therapist I've slowly learned how live in reality and remember, as my friend Chris McAlister says, children are great recorders of experiences, but terrible interpreters.
Case in point - all the guys in high school I believed thought I was a sensitive weakling, actually really liked me and wished they had my stage presence.
My fraternity friends from college often call to ask for my perspective about their own personal growth. Looking back it's clear they never once thought of me as an outsider. They loved me for who I was.
Our brains were designed to keep us safe.
They weren't designed to help us grow up into secure, clearheaded adults.
When I can remember this, I realize no one is thinking about my manhood.
No one is thinking about me at all.
While I'm busy trying to ensure others are seeing me the right way, they are just living their lives. Meanwhile, I'm missing out on an opportunity to connect and get what I've been after all along - acceptance, opportunity to be in meaningful relationships, and the chance to use my experience, strength and hope to help others along their life journey.
Back to the phone call.
I've been chatting with a guy, introduced to me by a bro, who is mutual friend of one of my best friends from college - who is a frat star. The guy on the other end of the phone is looking for a career change and interested in moving to my city.
I know literally nothing about him, but quickly imagine he's the reincarnation of all the bro bullies from my youth, and I'm nervous he's going to want to talk about sports.
As we speak about his career, most of the answers are pretty surface level: "I want to move up. I want a VP role. I don't feel like I'm getting what I need in my current job."
We're nearing the end of our conversation and I want to ask a deep question about how this next move aligns with why he's here - like here on this planet. I want him to tell me about the bigger story of his life and who he is and what he wants.
But I'm afraid to ask those questions.
Because what if he thinks I'm too sensitive or emotional or reflective, and after we hang up he and all the bros have a conference call to talk about my testosterone levels?
After a few moments I do my best to put my unhelpful mindset to rest and ask anyway:
What about your desire to change jobs connects with who you believe you're meant to be?
He pauses a while. I think I definitely blew my cover as the smart, hard-to-read entrepreneur man.
That's a really good question - thanks for asking something like that, he says.
He went on to give a thoughtful answer and ask me a meaningful question in return. As we're wrapping up the call tells me he's watched a couple of my speeches online and, regardless of whether I'm able to help him with his job search, would I be open to having another call to talk about life and personal growth?
Well I'll be.
I suited up for a non-existent battle against someone looking for the same things I'm looking for.
All because I'm listening to a useless mindset I've had since the 1990s.
This isn't an account of my courageous or compassionate conversation skills - I had a garbage mindset most of the conversation.
This is a necessary reminder to daily check our mindsets and determine whether or not those mindsets are helpful or unhelpful.
When we bring more awareness to our interactions with the stories we believe about ourselves and others, we can apply a new clarity to the way we live our lives - and in the process, come closer together.
