Tiny Leadership Story #18
Maya had earned Bradford's respect during her brief tenure as managing director and both were on the hiring committee. The candidate had come up a non-traditional route, and his instincts were sharp.
During the close of the interview, Bradford said they were looking for someone with enough scar tissue. Maya winced because she knew what he meant. She was the youngest managing director in the firm's history and one of the few without an elite-school pedigree. Some of the senior partners had doubted her promotion. She had learned to live with that.
After the others left the room, Maya addressed Bradford's comment with him. She told him directly that the candidate's unconventional path was a feature, not a liability, and that "scar tissue" had not been a criterion they had agreed on.
Bradford acknowledged the point, and held his position. She knew her intensity had cost her.
Over the next three days, Maya didn't sleep well. The replay ran loudest when she was most tired and least able to fight it. Does Bradford think I'm not ready? Is this what he thinks of my background? Did I damage what I had built with him? Each replay took her further from what had actually happened and closer to what she had long been afraid was true. By Wednesday, that two-minute conversation had become a verdict on her career.
When we talked, I asked her, "If Bradford had been your loudest advocate for managing director, what would have been different about that moment?"
"Nothing. I still would have said it."
"Same intensity?"
A longer pause. "No. Probably not."
"What were you actually defending?"
"My promotion. Honestly, I'm still upset that some of them didn't support it."
"Can you be sure that's true?"
"No. I guess not."
We agreed that the next time something cut close, she would write two sentences before deciding what to do next: what actually happened, and what she was making it mean. Then she would read them back before choosing her response.
Maya had been fighting a battle that wasn't in the room.
A situation is what took place. Its significance is what we add.
The Question
What story are you telling yourself right now that feeds an old suspicion, fear, or concern more than it serves the truth?
"We suffer more in imagination than reality." — Seneca
Shall we begin?
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