Rough, Tough Cream Puff

Watching my daughter (not pictured above) transform from an infant to the little lady she is today has been nothing short of fascinating.  Her personality becomes more and more apparent as she grows up, and visible traits become patterns rather than mere temporary phases.  In particular, her affinity to care for others seems to have become a permanent fixture in her behavioral library.

Many parents, teachers, babysitters, and other adults have labeled her as “very sweet," and I've  observed from a very young age how helpful and nurturing she naturally behaves toward other children.  She jumps at the chance to comfort some other child, especially when they are having trouble emotionally.  (And come on, when isn't someone crying somewhere in a room full of little rug rats?)  For instance, during the first few weeks of kindergarten my daughter dutifully sat and comforted a fellow student at recess when he was scared of his new school environment.  She behaved in this fashion even when she was barely old enough to talk.  “It otay, baby, it otay,” she’d murmur to a crying infant she'd just met.

(Author's note:  I won't tell you she doesn't have her, ahem, moments.  When it comes down to her own younger sibling, nurturing gets rather dicey.  That behavior depends largely on mood.  Just yesterday I heard her emit some pretty evil cackling noises when her brother couldn't have a toy he wanted.  But that's another matter for Dr. Spock... or Phil.)

As a child, people described me much the same way they perceive Emma:  sweet, caring, kind.
However, towards the end of high school and then into college, I became a bit cynical.   (Okay, really cynical.) I was tired of being “little miss nice girl.”  I really wanted to become tough, assertive, less sensitive and feeling.  I ached to build up a thick exterior that wouldn’t crack like a delicate egg shell every time someone criticized me.  My mother always bemoaned my vulnerability at the hands of others’ comments.  “Why do you have to be so sensitive all the time?” she’d ask me again and again.  And I'd get upset and wonder what was wrong with me.

So when I hit 16 or 17 and the time came to think of careers, becoming a tough litigator seemed particularly inviting.  And, in actually, a tough anything would've done it.  I was determined to become strong in persona, direct and indifferent; a tough bulldog versus a sweet golden retriever who simply pleased and cared for others.  Thus many of my original career images and goals were spun from a need to become, in essence, different.  I wanted to summon up the emotional resiliency I always felt I’d had in me and become the hard ass I was capable of becoming-- at 5'2".

In high school and into college I’d tell people the legal career I had in mind, to which many replied, “You’re too nice to become a litigator.”   Well that just fueled my fire!  Becoming a litigator became my mission.  And what I find so ironic, now that I am a career coach, is the fact that I was so misguided about litigators.  I now know many successful trial attorneys who are NOT tough, which is why they are so effective and win many a case!  Fortunately, I never did give law school a shot, as you may have read about in my previous blog, To Be or Not to Be.

So many people fall into the trap of pursuing a career they believe will transform them into the person they want to be, as opposed to who they truly are.  Fortunately for us stubborn little bulldogs, our true talents track us down, haunting us to the end until we relent.   In fact, it wasn’t until my 30’s and had my first child that I began to see a reverse side to trying to be the tough-skinned individual I craved so badly.  First of all, it wasn’t me.  Period.  The corporate sales world was indeed tough, and I didn't like it one bit.  The acting world was even tougher, and I felt reduced to cinders after every rejection, no matter how many ways I tried to psych myself into believing others' opinions really didn't matter.

Let's Hear It (Finally!) For Sensitivity

I eventually realized that I spent WAY too much energy trying to be something I wasn't.  I knew that I just wasn't bulldog material- no offense to the meek bulldogs out there, of course.  Rather, I was a golden retriever through and through:  loving, kind, caring, and, most interestingly, really really good at helping and motivating people, empowering others to craft solutions to their problems.  I finally understood that my intuitive, sensitive-to-others' feelings nature could be an asset, not a liability.

Directness, confidence and assertiveness started coming naturally, not by force-of-will.  My sensitivity, now allowed to flourish, quickly turned from an internal, negative focus to an external, positive, and effective force.  My self-esteem developed as I learned how my inborn preference for taking into account the feelings of others allowed me to "see" things that others with more utilitarian sensibilities could not detect.  In fact, many people who go into psychology-based fields have this same preference and ability. 

So now if my mother were to ask me why I'm so sensitive, I can matter-of-factly say, “because I am.  Isn't that great?  And it makes me a really good coach.”  I just had to realize how far empathy can take a person who sees its power.  Sensitivity to others can create fantastic opportunities.