The hardest lesson to learn is the one that you don’t see
When I moved to my new home city of Brussels, I decided to reinvent myself. I tried to fit in, but I was unpleasantly surprised. That was several years ago. Only recently have I understood the deeper meaning of that experience. It was a liberating lesson.
Brussels, the capital of the European Union, is a hub where people from across the continent work. This international stage seemed to me the perfect environment to launch myself as someone who could teach mental resilience—primarily to women. After all, I had spent 20 years as a Middle East correspondent, emerged stronger from a severe burnout, and was a staunch advocate for more women in leadership positions, a pressing issue for the EU at the time.
Knocking on many doors, I quickly learned that you don’t just walk into the EU. However, a company that provided coaching to the European Institutions was willing to give me a chance. Because I didn’t fit the traditional mold, I had to pass a kind of test. I poured my heart and soul into preparing a short presentation. I chose to present my brand-new theory of the We-Mind vs. Me-Mind, which explained why there were still so few women in leadership despite all the human effort and financial billions—including from the EU—poured into solving this issue.
The selection committee was very interested.
“But,” they said, “you do understand that you won’t be allowed to use your own material, don’t you? You’ll need to apply the methods developed by our in-house experts.”
“If reaching equal representation is still going to take more than a century, perhaps it’s time for a new idea,” I suggested. They shook their heads. “Once you’ve trained in our standard methods, you can reapply for the test.”
For the company that had recommended me, it was clear that working with me would be complicated, so nothing ever came of it. I turned my focus to individuals rather than organizations. But if I had understood one crucial lesson at that time, I could have spared myself years of vexation.
What I should have done differently
The lesson I eventually learned was this: trying to fit yourself into spaces or systems that don’t align with who you are only leads to frustration.
If you feel stuck or unfulfilled in your job, perhaps you too are not someone who naturally finds comfort in existing structures or patterns. I started my career in the Dutch diplomatic service and left that job after two years to become a journalist. I never gave it much thought, but I should have realized then and there that I wasn’t cut out for institutional life. I’m not suited to be a conduit for someone else’s positions—be it a government’s stance or prepackaged methods, however valuable they may be. I question everything. And I need to carve my own path.
If I had taken some time sooner to contemplate my major life decisions, perhaps I wouldn’t have tried so hard to “fit in” when I arrived back in Europe. Because ironically—and I see it now—is that after “failing” that institutional test, instead of educating myself in their in-house methods, I did everything I could to become part of the world of women aspiring to leadership in the corporate world.
That doesn’t mean to say I couldn’t share my personal lessons about mental toughness and working in a male-dominated environment. But in today’s world, there are more possibilities than ever to build connection. I didn’t have to try to belong in places where I never did.
Further down, I’ll explain where that impulse came from, but first, let me tell you about my aha-moment.
Seeing the Light
While brainstorming about the interplay between our other-oriented We-Mind and our self-focused Me-Mind, I suddenly saw the light. I realized that if you’re a creative go-getter driven to contribute, your balance of the two minds is likely to be different from that of most people. Here are my three main aha-takeaways.
1 – Whether you’re an author, journalist, songwriter, artist, mediator, entrepreneur, CEO, or another type of thinker who comes up with new solutions for problems, you take what you put into the world seriously. Creativity isn’t a secondary matter or hobby for you, it’s an essential part of who you are. Neglecting it makes you deeply unhappy.
2 – As a driven creative thinker with a mission, you’re willing to work late into the night, put relationships with friends or family (temporarily) on hold, endure the rollercoaster of a fluctuating bank account, constantly test yourself, release your creations into the world, face rejection, and start all over again. You keep believing in yourself. You haven’t chosen the easiest path, but you wouldn’t want to. Easy would feel empty.
3 – That’s probably why we muddle through for so long when faced with a creative roadblock: we’re used to encountering obstacles and pushing through. If you’re wired to thrive on creativity with a purpose, pausing to re-adjust course may not come naturally, but it may work better in the long term than blindly charging ahead.
My self-awareness sharpened in Brussels, I now realize, because when I worked in foreign countries, there was no norm I felt compelled to conform to. It was only when I returned to “normal” Europe that I felt that pressure.
Scary
I’ve since embraced the fact that I’m an outlier. I wasn’t meant to follow someone else’s script. I was meant to write my own.
That means I no longer limit myself to what I think (!) is acceptable within my current social and professional circles. Instead, I allow myself to chart my own course. Is it scary? Yes. But everything is starting to flow. I’ve made significant progress in further developing the We-Mind vs. Me-Mind theory. And my reluctance to speak openly about another creation dear to my heart has also disappeared: the mind-body-based method I’ve developed over the years that helps you overcome mental blockages fast and permanently. I’ll be writing more about both soon.
For now, here’s a wrap-up of what I’ve learned:
If you’re a creative go-getter with a mission, trying to fit into molds that don’t align with your nature is not just unfulfilling, it’s a denial of who you are. True fulfillment requires two conditions:
1) You need to embrace your uniqueness, trust your instincts, and carve your own path, even when it feels uncertain.
2) You need to set yourself free to share your gifts with the world, in the way that suits you best. You can only contribute by communicating, even if that feels scary.
It’s not the easiest journey, but in the end it’s the only one worth taking.