It’s wild to me that you don’t believe in yourself. Because all I see when I look at you is greatness.
I talked about you all the time before we got together, before I even knew there was a chance that you would be interested. I was proud to know someone like you. Someone who not only had big ideas but followed through on them.
True, sometimes you’re juggling so many of them that deadlines get to be kind of a nailbiter. But there’s a passion there in the entire way that you approach life that’s undeniable. You’re interested in the world outside of yourself. In other people and what doesn’t exist but could be possible with just a little imagination and hard work. And to me, those qualities are irresistible.
And yet… you seem to have no idea how impressive you are. Instead, you primarily see your flaws. The way you fall short. You’ll see the one ball that you dropped when you were juggling 30, the one that didn’t really matter — and forget about the other 29 things that you absolutely nailed.
Meanwhile, I know other people who brag about things they didn’t really do. And who are not only happy to rest upon these manufactured accolades but feel free to use it as license to bully others. They give themselves unlimited lines of credit for things that they didn’t even do.
It’s truly exhausting.
It’s not like I haven’t seen this before. The best people I know are typically the hardest on themselves. They’re completely unaware of how wonderful they are. Meanwhile, folks who have no problem stepping on the backs of other people to get even a little bit ahead are convinced they are saints.
There’s no getting around it. It’s a fact of life.
All I want to say is this: I know you don’t think you’re all that great — but that’s probably a good sign.