I was in my first job out of college. A shiny, prestigious Big Four public accounting firm.
"Give that work paper to Helen to work on."
"Helen will finish it up and give it back to the client."
It's my third week in, and the partner kept calling me Helen. My name is Henna, by the way. But because I didn't correct him the first time he said it, I felt like that ship had sailed. To say something now would feel a little risky and a lot awkward.
I wish I could say that was an isolated incident in my career, but I've had plenty of those. I once texted a snarky complaint about a client to my work friend, which instead went to the client. Recently went to hug someone at work who instead was going in for the fist bump, and he ended up punching me in the chest instead. That was fun. But my niece Aria is seven, and interestingly, she has never once said to me, "Henna khala, this is awkward, but I can't open my Capri Sun." Kids don't feel awkward because they haven't yet learned they should feel that way. I think a lot of us would love to take more risks and feel less awkward. So what gives? Can we be more like Aria?
Research from the Association of Psychological Science discovered that it's early adolescence that our brains change, and we start to internalize social norms and become much more self-conscious. And as we grow up, there are inevitably times when we violate those norms, intentionally or not. And we start to notice and remember how that felt, which is usually a little icky. And because we don't love to feel a little icky, we start to act in ways that avoid that feeling. We become conditioned to look for who we are through the lens of those expected norms. In other words, who do other people see? And more importantly, do they approve of who they see?
And as we continue into our professional lives, another interesting thing happens. Even though our experience and confidence go up, so does our deep desire to fit in with those social norms. And as a result, our tolerance for professional risk-taking or any risk-taking, absolutely goes down. It goes down for big risks: things like negotiating a new job salary or taking a new job in general. But it also goes down for small, everyday risks: things like apologizing for a misdirected, snarky text or correcting someone when they've said your name wrong.
Why is that? Because thanks to those social norms behind the scenes, we start creating an ever-widening gap between how other people see us: confident, smart, articulate; and how we feel about what we think they see: nervous, hot mess Without realizing it, we start hanging out on this side of the gap. On this side of the gap, we care a lot about what other people think of us on preserving our existing gains. "People think you're smart now, Henna. They may not think you're so smart after this." That instead of improving, instead of leveling up, instead of playing to win, we play not to lose.
On this side of the gap, we're stuck in an approval mindset. An approval mindset tap dances on our caveman brain and reminds us that belonging feels better than almost anything else. It explains why many of us, at a deep level, are still people pleasers. We chase external validation. We care a lot about how we look to our leaders, our colleagues, our direct reports, our TEDx audience. What are you looking at?
And this brings us back to feeling awkward. Feeling awkward is a nudge from our modern brain that says, “Careful, there’s risk ahead, and other people are watching you." That feeling tries to protect us. It tells us to zip our lips instead of speaking up. It tells us to just take the offered salary instead of negotiating. Tells us, Helen isn't such a terrible name for a Pakistani girl, is it?
(Laughter)
Sorry, mom and dad. Sometimes, that nudge is a gentle poke. "Stop fidgeting, Henna." Sometimes, that nudge feels like a giant shove. "Who says you're ready for a TEDx?" And to be clear, many of us live in a system that rewards us with raises and promotions and likes when someone else approves.
An approval mindset isn't all bad. In fact, we've picked up some pretty useful skills in an approval mindset. In an approval mindset, we learn to set the bar high for what we want. If we want to set our bar high for earning our bosses praise or making a client happy or innovating on a new project, we develop a desire to take action towards that bar. I'm a recovering overachiever, and the minute someone else sets a target for me, I'm in motion. Not only will I hit it, I'll exceed it. Challenge accepted. And we adapt and change our behavior on our way to that bar.
As an executive coach, I see my clients contort themselves into new ways of behaving in order to earn the respect of a new boss or to avoid making waves in a meeting. And for 14 years in staffing, I would watch candidates shape-shift in interviews in order to get the job. Maybe you've done that too. And if you have, I'm with you because each and every time, you get a piping hot cup of approval at the end. But even so, you're no puppet. Even in an approval mindset, you're in control. You're setting the bar. You're taking action. You're adapting. But you're doing it for someone else. You're doing it for external reasons. An approval mindset is when you decide to change to meet someone else's expectations. In this mindset, your biggest, beefiest goals come from outside of you.
Now, case in point, a 2019 KPMG study found in a survey of over 2,000 college-educated women that they were significantly more comfortable taking risks that would benefit their group or company over one that would benefit themselves as individuals. I believe it. Telling the partner my name was actually Henna was way harder for me than telling the client that the audit report was going to be delayed by over two weeks. Correcting him meant his approval of me -- Henna, not Helen -- and all that that approval signified as far as my job, my level of responsibility was suddenly at risk. What will he think if I say something now? What if he judges me for not saying something before? Either choice felt awkward, and both carried huge risks. Or at least I thought they did.
But what I learned is when it comes to taking a risk in the moment, is that we allow our deep desire for other people to approve outweigh whether we personally improve. You see, the more we stay on this side of the gap, the more that gap widens to a chasm. The cringe chasm. A hurdle to overcome on our road to self-improvement. The bigger the risk, the more visible it is to others whose approval we so desperately want, the more awkward it feels. And at work, the stakes feel high. We are taking risks in front of people, often with KPIs and success metrics on the line. It feels like everyone, everywhere is watching us cross the cringe chasm. So we tell ourselves, "If I don't say the thing or take the chance, then I don't have to worry about whether anybody else approves. And bonus, I also don't have to acknowledge the possibility that I might stumble or fall." And neither their approval nor anything else is at risk.
And that may be true. But when we stay on this side of the gap, when we avoid all awkwardness, we never truly have a chance to personally improve, to speak up, to self-advocate, to innovate or negotiate or try something new, to do the very things that are proven to reduce risk over time. And leaving your potential on the table, that's the greatest risk of all.
It makes me cringe to have to correct someone about my name. It makes me cringe even more to imagine walking through life as someone who allows other people to call her the wrong name. Both of them are a risk. One, a risk of losing approval. The other, risk of losing my identity. Who I am or who I want to become. Which one am I going to take? Which one would you take? Awkwardness is what we feel when we reach this moment of choice. That feeling tells us we're standing at the edge of the chasm. That feeling tells us it's time to jump. And at the edge, you're also going to find what I like to call ick moments. When you're wincing and cringing and going "ick!" Remind yourself that improvement comes after cringe.
Now there are some benefits to an approval mindset, remember, and it's not all bad, it will get you somewhere in your life, in your career and in your business. But you know what's even more powerful? When you decide to change to meet your own expectations. When your biggest, beefiest goals come from inside of you. Now from a business perspective, five separate studies confirm that internal motivation for internally set goals leads to greater persistence, higher learning, better employee engagement, better performance and better retention. It's the alignment that makes the achievement possible. It's the alignment that helps you embrace the most awkward situations and help you cross the cringe chasm.
And I have good news. You already have the skills that you built over in the approval side to get you to where you want to go. When you're in an improvement mindset, you're still setting the bar for what you want. You're still taking action towards that bar. You're still adapting. When you align your own internal motivation with your own internal goals, that's how you cross to the improvement mindset and stay there.
And here's what's critical about assessing risk. If in this moment your self-improvement, hell, your self-identity, is more important to you than their approval, then my friends, it is time to jump. So what needs to change? The only thing that needs to change is whose goals you're pointing to, the direction of why you do what you do. Fitness trainers have known this for years. If you do the same exercises in the same order, your bodies get used to it, and you plateau. That's because routines also reduce our capability to improve. So to improve, we change direction of the circuit. So now we're going to take all those skills, those muscles we've built over on the approval circuit and work them in a new, slightly uncomfortable way so that we can improve our ability to take small risks when we need to. To condition for awkward. And we condition by seeking out strategic micro stressors and deliberate discomfort in the exact places where there's the most room for change. At work, instead of backing away from an uncomfortable conversation, changing direction might look like naming how awkward it is to have to talk about this, maybe with a little bit of humor. Or let’s say you get called on in a meeting and whoops, you totally zoned out. Instead of running from the awkwardness, which research actually says backfires and makes things even more awkward long term -- been there, done that -- maybe you'll try owning it and just admitting that you will recover faster than you think.
The truth is, your internal motivation is always burning inside of you. The question is, are you going to use that spark to ignite your own improvement or to feed a fire of someone else's making? And are you going to purposely look for those ick moments, those opportunities where improvement can come after the cringe? Are you going to make your internal motivation muscles stronger?
Now one final word of warning. Changing direction isn't easy. It takes deliberate practice. Much like stepping into the TEDx lights for the first time, trying something new is awkward as hell. The approval mindset is blaring. I hear it right now. It's easy to peter out when your mindset muscles start saying "This is hard." But if you want to play to win and not just not to lose, you can start right now. Find one goal you want to feel awkward for so that you can cross the chasm towards improvement. And practice embracing the awkward every day so that you're as strong as you can be for the moments when it counts. What you risk reveals what you value. Not every twinge of cringe needs to be overcome. Just the one stopping you from getting to where you want to go. It's up to you if you want to jump. And if you don't know where to start, let's talk about it over a Capri Sun. Can't promise I won't make it awkward, but I promise you they taste damn good.
Thank you.
(Applause)
