Typing the words, “I’m not worthy,” leaves me anxious and aware.
If I have learned anything about myself this year it’s that I have been swimming in some of the darker places of my confidence and self-security. More importantly, I have learned that self-love trumps everything. I’m growing and developing, and unapologetically so. The reflections are good. Needed. I’m better as a result.
I recently attended a conference for work, one with an ongoing theme of the storytelling and leadership of trailblazers, catalysts, and calamities. In one section of the convention center, a giant board stood with the prompt, “SIX-WORD MEMOIRS: Share your life story on the board in six words or less!”
Without much thought, I jotted down the following sentiment:
You will not shake me. Ever.
At the time, I had yet to determine who, “you,” would be, however the sentiment was important for me. In an interesting turn of events, it wasn’t until a few days later that the, “you,” on that page was actually self-realized as a note to myself. This ‘ah-ha’ challenged every fiber of my being. “You will not shake me. Ever.”
Dear me, I won’t be shaken…by you. Or something like that.
Let’s pause here for a moment.
I recently accepted an opportunity to study in the Student Affairs doctoral program at the University of Maryland (I will be starting this Fall).
[insert screams and tears here]
[insert fears and self-doubt here]
As quickly as I arrived to celebrate this huge moment, self-doubt and insecurity followed closely nearby. Initially, my first thought was that the individual calling to offer me a spot in the program was actually going to inform me that I hadn’t been accepted. In fact, I stared at the phone for a few seconds, seeing her name, and writing the story in my head between each ringing pause.
The call would go something like this:
“Hey Michael. It’s me, the Dark Lord of the Academy.
Yeah, sorry, you didn’t get in. Better luck next time.”
Even when I first interviewed for admission, I told myself I was a courtesy interview. I re-trolled my materials, I searched for a typo or an error or a reason for them to pass on me. There is nothing worse in an application process than recreating doubt and unrest as it relates to putting yourself out there. I was desperate for an out, and this was so much more than dress-rehearsing tragedy.
But the Dark Lord of the Academy was instead a faculty member who I admire and respect more than anyone else in academia. She was Glenda, The Good. And I was Michael, The Thankful. She brought only good news into that conversation, and as I hung up, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was admitted to a doctoral program.
Dear me, I won’t be shaken…by you.
While attending another conference, one made up of student affairs professionals from around the globe, I started to share the news of my admissions status. Within each dialogue, I found myself drenching my news with, “I can’t believe…,” language, and, “I must have slipped through the cracks,” attempts at humor.
But it wasn’t funny.
This was beyond self-deprecation, and I was teetering the line of self-sabotage-mixed-with-dress-rehearsing-tragedy. Even outside of any admissions process one might endure, it’s important to note: rejection is unsettling and hard. And scary. I had entered a place of such great fear, that even when I wasn’t, at all, rejected, I still kept the mindset that I wasn’t, at all, worthy.
This brings me full circle back to a life lesson in, “I’m not worthy.”
You will not shake me. Ever.
I am worthy. Glenda says so. And I say so.
And as I sit here with an acceptance in-hand, I am grinning greatly, feeling worthy and deserving, and beautifully so. Here’s to a new endeavor, here’s to the academy, and here’s to achieving a dream. I’ll be starting at the University of Maryland this fall, and advised by the brilliant and talented, Dr. Kimberly Griffin Haynes.
The only way upward is onward…
Thankful for Glenda,