Mirror, mirror
Have you ever taken one of the innumerable personality tests that are out there these days? I’ve taken a fair number of them recently as part of some research for the School. Results vary so much from provider to provider and day to day. I come out differently almost every time. The person who knows me better than I know myself places me in one area, a dear friend who is well versed in these things places me in another. I would have categorised myself differently again, but their observations have forced me to have a good look and re-examine a few things. ‘Know thyself’ takes on a whole new layer of meaning when you actually start looking.
Over the years, like many of us, I have been obliged to submit to the psychometric testing now required for many jobs. The results can be illuminating in ways perhaps not immediately obvious.
I remember going to the first one for a job at a time when my self-confidence was minimal and my self-belief even less. I never did have much of either, having been raised in the shadow of one more intelligent, more beautiful, talented, funny, fascinating etc. Don’t misunderstand, I agreed with that… she was all that and more in my eyes too. Everyone said how alike we were, but of course, she had the edge…and it was a family who took such pride in her, paying me almost the ultimate compliment of comparing me to her that inadvertently began to undermine my confidence as I grew.
An unusual adolescence followed by a disastrous marriage and a drunk driver rearranging my face didn’t help much. So the young woman who began to grow into life always felt second rate. Almost, but never quite, good enough for anything or anyone. No matter how conscientious I was, how hard I worked, or how much I tried, I never expected to amount to much. I saw myself as second best. A shy, retiring mouse of a woman who felt she deserved little better. And because I saw myself that way, others did too.
Years passed, the blinkers wobbled a bit and I saw the mistakes that had been made raising me as I learned to instil confidence into my own sons. I didn’t care what they did with their lives as long as they were happy, healthy, whole human beings. I wanted them to believe in themselves and know that I did too.
Raising them while dealing with my partner’s cancer I gained a lot more confidence. It was odd really, as I had always known that every one of us is valuable, unique and necessary to the world. Always believed that we carry within us a spark of the Divine Life… and what can be greater than that? Yet somehow that knowledge didn’t filter through into my life.
When my partner was dying we discussed what I would do when he had gone, knowing I would have to earn a decent living to keep the boys. I had dropped out of maths at school, and that was one qualification I lacked and would need. Others I had. I signed up for night school, in the hope of getting something that said I wasn’t an idiot where maths was concerned. I had, you see, accepted everyone’s assessment that I was no good at that either.
In three months I completed a two year course and came out with a Distinction. No one was more surprised than I and my self-assessment began to change. Maybe I wasn’t as worthless as I thought. It made me wonder what else I could do if I tried. I learned to drive too. Looking back on my I began to see that the mouse had not lacked courage to roar and had faced some pretty awful stuff and dealt with it. I had taken risks and leaps of faith, lived a Bohemian life for a while, done many things a little house-mouse would not normally do… yet I still had no faith in myself? So maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t who I had thought I was. Maybe I could do stuff.
So I arrived, terrified, for a day of psychometric testing in London for a high profile job I felt completely unqualified for. There was a room full of very professional looking people exuding confidence. And me. Feeling like a fish out of water and thinking I shouldn’t have come.
This was a full eight hour day of intensive testing across the spectrum . Half were dismissed mid-morning, more at lunchtime. Only a few of us remained. I was called in for the results… I didn’t get the job… but I got something better in my eyes. I had tied top but the other person had relevant experience. I had tested at doctoral level, I who had left school at 16. They went through the tests one by one and my journey home was taken in shock.
I do not think any test can tell you all about a person, but this one certainly opened my eyes. I was obliged to re-examine who I thought I was and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Much of it was habit, a kind of laziness of the soul that had stuck in the comfortable rut of familiar mediocrity because it was known and safe.
It made me think about other areas of self-belief and confidence and question my courage and character in a whole new way. It made me question the self-image we hold, how much of it we simply accept as we are fed it by others, who may see us better than we do ourselves, but who sometimes see only what suits them or what they themselves need to see. How much of it is the fear of being ourselves and being rejected, standing out from the crowd and losing the safe anonymity of our accustomed normality.
We are all such odd mixes of good and less good, strength and weakness. We are not pale copies of anyone else, we are who we are. We do not need to be a mirror reflecting the world back at itself because that is what the world expects to see. We can be our own mirror. We are unique, all of us. Instead of asking ‘who me?’ when an opportunity arises, maybe we should just be saying, ‘why not’.
Over the years, like many of us, I have been obliged to submit to the psychometric testing now required for many jobs. The results can be illuminating in ways perhaps not immediately obvious.
I remember going to the first one for a job at a time when my self-confidence was minimal and my self-belief even less. I never did have much of either, having been raised in the shadow of one more intelligent, more beautiful, talented, funny, fascinating etc. Don’t misunderstand, I agreed with that… she was all that and more in my eyes too. Everyone said how alike we were, but of course, she had the edge…and it was a family who took such pride in her, paying me almost the ultimate compliment of comparing me to her that inadvertently began to undermine my confidence as I grew.
An unusual adolescence followed by a disastrous marriage and a drunk driver rearranging my face didn’t help much. So the young woman who began to grow into life always felt second rate. Almost, but never quite, good enough for anything or anyone. No matter how conscientious I was, how hard I worked, or how much I tried, I never expected to amount to much. I saw myself as second best. A shy, retiring mouse of a woman who felt she deserved little better. And because I saw myself that way, others did too.
Years passed, the blinkers wobbled a bit and I saw the mistakes that had been made raising me as I learned to instil confidence into my own sons. I didn’t care what they did with their lives as long as they were happy, healthy, whole human beings. I wanted them to believe in themselves and know that I did too.
Raising them while dealing with my partner’s cancer I gained a lot more confidence. It was odd really, as I had always known that every one of us is valuable, unique and necessary to the world. Always believed that we carry within us a spark of the Divine Life… and what can be greater than that? Yet somehow that knowledge didn’t filter through into my life.
When my partner was dying we discussed what I would do when he had gone, knowing I would have to earn a decent living to keep the boys. I had dropped out of maths at school, and that was one qualification I lacked and would need. Others I had. I signed up for night school, in the hope of getting something that said I wasn’t an idiot where maths was concerned. I had, you see, accepted everyone’s assessment that I was no good at that either.
In three months I completed a two year course and came out with a Distinction. No one was more surprised than I and my self-assessment began to change. Maybe I wasn’t as worthless as I thought. It made me wonder what else I could do if I tried. I learned to drive too. Looking back on my I began to see that the mouse had not lacked courage to roar and had faced some pretty awful stuff and dealt with it. I had taken risks and leaps of faith, lived a Bohemian life for a while, done many things a little house-mouse would not normally do… yet I still had no faith in myself? So maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t who I had thought I was. Maybe I could do stuff.
So I arrived, terrified, for a day of psychometric testing in London for a high profile job I felt completely unqualified for. There was a room full of very professional looking people exuding confidence. And me. Feeling like a fish out of water and thinking I shouldn’t have come.
This was a full eight hour day of intensive testing across the spectrum . Half were dismissed mid-morning, more at lunchtime. Only a few of us remained. I was called in for the results… I didn’t get the job… but I got something better in my eyes. I had tied top but the other person had relevant experience. I had tested at doctoral level, I who had left school at 16. They went through the tests one by one and my journey home was taken in shock.
I do not think any test can tell you all about a person, but this one certainly opened my eyes. I was obliged to re-examine who I thought I was and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Much of it was habit, a kind of laziness of the soul that had stuck in the comfortable rut of familiar mediocrity because it was known and safe.
It made me think about other areas of self-belief and confidence and question my courage and character in a whole new way. It made me question the self-image we hold, how much of it we simply accept as we are fed it by others, who may see us better than we do ourselves, but who sometimes see only what suits them or what they themselves need to see. How much of it is the fear of being ourselves and being rejected, standing out from the crowd and losing the safe anonymity of our accustomed normality.
We are all such odd mixes of good and less good, strength and weakness. We are not pale copies of anyone else, we are who we are. We do not need to be a mirror reflecting the world back at itself because that is what the world expects to see. We can be our own mirror. We are unique, all of us. Instead of asking ‘who me?’ when an opportunity arises, maybe we should just be saying, ‘why not’.
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