If you aren't screwing up, you're aiming too low

Or, a note to self

“Thank you. I really appreciate the opportunity.”

And with that, I said goodbye, hung up the phone, and patted myself on the back for being the most talented person in my empty room. Then I proceeded to dive head-first into self-destructive mode imagining all the different ways I could screw up an opportunity that was a month away.

Over the last two decades, I’ve worked across three continents in half a dozen different sectors. The circumstances changed. As did the titles. But no matter the stakes, from starting my own business to publishing a simple article, my baseline is terrified.

Like most people, I’ve had some falls. I’ve been laughed at. I know what it’s like to lose it all. Despite the bumps, bruises, and times I’ve felt like I was bleeding out, over the last twenty years my overall confidence has been consistently trending upward.

I’m proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish. I’m proud I’ve consistently made my obstacle my way. I’m proud that I’ve moved from a shy, stuttering kid to a shy, and at times, still stuttering mostly functional member of society who makes a living helping people to own their stories.

I know I should change my framing from nervous to excited like all those professionals suggest. I’ve tried. It sticks sometimes. Other times, not so much. No matter the accolades or recognition, at times, I still don’t feel very professional at all.

But recently I’ve begun to give myself a bit of a break.

I’ve realized I don’t ever want to not feel scared, nervous, or terrified when starting something new.

It would mean I’m aiming too low.
It would mean I’m not putting myself in a position to grow.
It would mean I don’t care as much as I used to.

I don’t know much, but one thing I know for certain is I don’t ever want to do something that makes me care less.

Caring is king.

Not content like some copywriters say and not community as some community builders imply. If you look under the hood, caring has always worn the crown and will hopefully always reign supreme.

It’s the source of all good art.
It’s the foundation of all great communities.

And if nerves and self-doubt are a part of it, so be it as it’s all part of the journey.

Give yourself permission to be bad

Everything I love today initially hurt. Nothing worth having comes cheap. The day I met my wife, it wasn’t my top-notch delivery of a seminar I gave at her office that sparked the attraction. A decade ago, I was far from top-notch.

I’d just moved to Barcelona and I was struggling to make ends meet. She thought my story was interesting. She liked that I was brave enough to put myself out into the world and vulnerable enough to admit I didn’t have all the answers.

The same goes for when I started my career in sales. Some people didn’t accept me. A lot of people rejected me. Despite this, I kept at it. Over time, the right people began to notice. But this wasn’t because they could see my potential of one day being the smartest, fastest, most charismatic person in the room. It was because — cliché or not — they could see that I cared deeply about growing.

Think about your accomplishments.
Think about how far you’ve already come.
Think about the times you’ve learned the most.

Sure, some of these experiences may have gone off without a hitch. But I’d be willing to bet a high majority were hard. You had daily spills. You cleaned yourself up. You took what you learned while lying on the ground and got back to work.

It may not be in the descriptions, but our primary job is to be cool with falling down as it’s the fastest way to level up. And the best part about this is most people don’t even care if you make a mistake. They're too busy worrying about their own problems and nerves. If they do laugh, good, it’s a solid way to weed those who matter from those who don’t.

The past few months I’ve been asked to get involved with various projects that I initially deemed as over my head.

The people in all of these situations are smart. I’m terrified of this. They’ve done big things. But it’s because of this fear — not despite it— that I know I’ll be fine.

Go out into the world.
Embrace your legs shaking a little.
Nerves are a sign you care.

It’s hard to grow if you don’t put yourself in situations that make you question your confidence. Good things come to those who are willing to open themselves up to being bad to one day get better.

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If you enjoyed this post, you may get something out of my new book — Shy by Design: 12 Timeless Principles to Quietly Stand Out.

In a world that lionizes loudness, it's actually the quiet and shy among us who are best set up to thrive. Michael Thompson provides an important new way of understanding what it really takes to stand out!
— Cal Newport, NYT bestselling author of Deep Work and Slow Productivity

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Thank you for reading.
My best to you and yours.
— Michael