To lead, we must instill confidence in others.
Confidence comes from an inner sense of self-respect and self-awareness. You know you have accomplished many things personally and professionally. You are also aware that those accomplishments were not achieved without the help of others. And you are very well aware of how much more you have to learn and grow. In short, true confidence is born from having perspective.
Be proud of what you have accomplished. You worked hard. You leveraged your talents. You had impact. That’s great. You also made mistakes along the way. So will the people under you and those following you. Part of your ability to help them is to show them what you learned from your mistakes. Your ability to demonstrate growth, admit to failures, and show vulnerability will help other people relax, embrace change, and let go of their anxieties.
What does it mean to show vulnerability? It’s not about apologizing or repeatedly admitting weakness. That’s not attractive, appropriate, or truthful, given that you got where you are because of your achievements, not in spite of them. Showing vulnerability, at its most basic core, is being honest. It is presenting a complete picture of yourself to your audience. In Chapter 4 on presence, we discussed the importance of bringing your genuine self to your interactions with others. You have more impact and are more readily accepted if other people feel they are getting the “genuine you,” rather than a guarded or filtered version. And the genuine or authentic you has shortcomings. Acknowledging those shortcomings won’t hamper you. It will allow you to come across in a healthier and more holistic way.
We tend to avoid sharing stories of our shortcomings out of fear—fear that we will be exposed, rejected, or hurt.
I’m the leader. I should know all the answers. I should be on top of the details. What if they find out I’m just making it all up as I go along? I’ll lose credibility. I’ll be exposed.
In the movie Saving Private Ryan, Tom Hanks leads his platoon through one battle after another to find Private Ryan and bring him to safety. He makes very tough decisions, shows grit and determination, remains steadfast to his mission, and has the full support of his men. In addition to dodging the enemy, he repeatedly dodges questions about his profession before the war. His men ask him occasionally, and because he ignores the question, they hint at a number of jobs that define a tough, in-the-trenches, dangerous, risk-taking life. It’s only late in the movie that he reveals he taught English at a high school in Addley, Pennsylvania, and coached the local baseball team. He was concerned that if his men saw him as just an ordinary mortal, they would lose faith. In fact, they were more impressed and inspired and saw him as an even greater leader.
In truth, we don’t have to worry about being exposed. We already are. No one thinks you’re perfect, certainly not those with whom you work closely. They are all well aware of your shortcomings as a leader, a co-worker, a professional. In fact, their version of your shortcomings might be radically different from your own.
Acknowledging your shortcomings is a way of managing someone else’s misperception of you. Because of the distance that business hierarchies create, leaders are sometimes perceived by those they lead as arrogant, distant, or aloof. Those may be misperceptions. You may, in fact, be fairly humble about your abilities, want to reach out more than time allows, and think you are, in fact, a warm and fuzzy person. Acknowledging your shortcomings, whatever they are, will allow those on your team to realize there is a full, dynamic, honest, and grounded leader at the helm of the organization.
The irony is that, when expressing our shortcomings, we need to do so with confidence. If you seem nervous when expressing that you’re not perfect, you convey that you think you should be perfect. This is unrealistic. Don’t equate acknowledging your flaws with expressing shame. In Chapter 4, we talk about effective delivery styles that allow you to come across as confident. Employing those skills remains important, even when you are acknowledging that you don’t have all the answers.
Here are two broad generalizations about human behavior: (1) We fear what we don’t understand and (2) We don’t understand what is different from ourselves. We have made tremendous strides in the last few decades at being more comfortable with diversity in our lives, and not just in terms of the basics—how we look and where we come from—but in terms of the more intrinsic and hard-to-quantify elements of ourselves—how we think and behave. Nevertheless, we have a long way to go.
The more other people get to know the “authentic you,” the more likely they are to realize that, as a complete person, you aren’t that different from how they are. Rejection becomes less likely. Let’s say we’re at a meeting and I listen to what you perceive as a success or failure, and I think to myself: “I would have approached that situation completely differently or reached the opposite conclusion.” Part of my brain will still likely recognize your approach as similar to what I have observed in someone else in my life. Even though you’re not like me, you’re just like other people I know.
You became more familiar. You’re less scary. Your thoughts and perspectives, while not the same as mine, aren’t that different from others I have experienced. I may not agree with your opinion, but I don’t reject you as a person because I recognize in you what I have seen in many others. And if I see that connection with you, I’m more confident you will see that connection with me. I’ll be more open to sharing my thoughts and opinions, even my feelings. While before I might have tolerated diverse opinions, now I’ll welcome them, and in return, I’ll be less concerned about being rejected.
We all want to be included. It’s normal to fear exclusion. While some people develop a thicker skin and are more comfortable in a career such as sales, where rejection is part of the daily routine, no one enjoys rejection. Let’s say I meet with a client in response to a need he has identified. I get back to him with a proposal. We go back and forth on structure of the program, timing, and pricing. Ultimately, the client decides to go with another provider. It’s inevitable that I will be left with a bruised ego. The client rejected me, and rejection can sting. Most of the time we need to let go of that voice and recognize the client didn’t reject us; he or she rejected our solution.
We make the rejection personal when we’re all wrapped up in ourselves. That’s why, if you focus less on yourself and more on the other person, it’s easier to put yourself out there and take risks. You’re not afraid of being hurt because it’s not about you. You can even be vulnerable or tell a story that risks you looking less than because you’re not telling the story to make yourself the center of attention. You’re telling the story and sharing a shortcoming because it helps someone else.
I was one of the shiest, most awkward kids in my high school class. Picture the nerdiest kid in your high school. Remember him? I was so awkward, he would have thought he was too cool to hang out with me. But now I get up in front of hundreds of people at a time to talk about having presence. I’m still nervous when I do so, but I can do it relatively easily because, at some point, I realized that when I’m in front of the room, people aren’t really looking at me. They’re looking through me to see whether there’s some benefit there for them. I’m not the center of attention; I’m a conduit for an idea that might help them. I like to help people, so as long as I’m just the catalyst for their learning, the anxiety and shyness dissipate.
People in the room want to see you succeed. There is nothing in it for them if you fail; they just have to sit through one more boring meeting. They are not only hoping you are interesting, but they are actively trying to be interested in your topic. In other words, the audience is on your side. Now, when you share something that shows you’re human like your listeners are, you not only have allies, but you have compatriots—people who empathize and support you.
Being authentic doesn’t mean you always have to talk about failures. You can talk about a success and the hurdles you had to overcome to achieve it. You can acknowledge adversity or share the sacrifices that you made to get where you are. You can admit that you’ve accomplished what you have because of the amazing team of people who have supported you at different points in your life. You can share feelings. If I know you were excited or disappointed, or sad or concerned, I can connect better with you.
When you are a leader, your team wants to know where you stand on issues, not just what decision you’ve made. You achieve better buy-in on your decisions, and greater respect for those decisions, if your audience knows how you reached certain conclusions. Use phrases that expose the underlying feelings that guided your decisions. A simple “I’ve decided . . .” is authoritarian. Other phrases bring out the authentic you.
“I believe. . . .” (“Believe” is a powerful word.)
“My perspective is. . . .” (“Perspective” acknowledges opinion, rather than a claim of an absolute.)
“I feel lucky that. . . .” (“Lucky” conveys humility.)
When the wide receiver makes the touchdown and then throws himself into the stands, or looks to the heavens and mouths “thank you,” or looks into the camera and shouts, “Hi, Mom!,” what’s he doing? He’s saying, “I didn’t do this by myself. I had help.” He’s acknowledging that he’s needy, and we love him for it, even when he’s playing for the other team.
The best way to allow your vulnerability to show through is by telling stories, personal stories that share an emotion. See Chapter 2 on storytelling to learn how to elicit an emotional response from your audience.
Showing one’s authentic self is an effective means to project confidence. Some professionals, however, project attitude or arrogance, mistakenly thinking those demeanors suggest confidence. Don’t do that. It won’t be helpful to you.