"Good Job!"
A client of a fitness chain in South India once said she came to every single class just to hear the Coach say, “Good job.” Not for the workout. Not for the results. Just for those two words. I heard this firsthand from one of the co-founders of this fitness chain when we were exchanging stories and insights on why people work out.
When probed further, the client shared that if not for this group fitness class, no one tells her that she is doing a good job. Neither from her children nor from her husband at home. And neither from her colleagues nor from her bosses at work. Congratulating members after a gruelling workout is a common practice among Coaches, but this co-founder was stunned that a client of theirs regularly came just to hear those words. She wasn’t chasing fitness goals—she was chasing acknowledgment.
While I empathized with the client and my mind processed the insight, I was surprised how my own body was reacting to it. In the middle of the conversation, I found myself wondering: when was the last time someone told me “Good job”? I couldn’t remember. A wave of sadness hit me. Clearly, the story had touched a raw nerve. I knew I had to explore it before it sent me down a spiral I hadn’t even seen coming.
I learned the hard way that other people's stories could trigger unresolved issues in me. In 2010, I was hired to design a leadership program for the social sector in East Africa by one of the top social venture funds in the world. In three years, we expanded the program to run in Pakistan and India too. I had the opportunity to interact with a wide variety of social sector leaders in these geographies, and I genuinely enjoyed the process of designing and delivering a world class leadership program but also supporting these leaders in their leadership journeys. By mid-2013, I was struggling to get out of bed each morning. It didn’t make sense—I loved the work. Fortunately, a trip to our company headquarters in New York was already on the calendar, and I had a meeting scheduled with our CEO.
During our meeting, I told her about this new challenge I was dealing with. She knew how passionate I was about the program and how I spent hours helping everyone in the program. Without batting an eyelid, she said that it seems like you are dealing with counter transference and transference issues. I said, "What?" She went on to explain that listening to others' pain and trauma regularly can bring up my own unresolved issues. I thought she was pulling a fast one, but she said that multiple leaders had told her how much they trusted me, and how easily they confided in me. It was true. Frequently, these leaders would tell me stuff over a coffee or a drink that I didn't know what to make of - infidelity, problems with co-founders, sexual assault, racism, sexism, etc. I thought I was simply giving them space to vent—because leadership can be lonely.
I did some follow up reading, and I was surprised that while I thought I was being a friend, I had unintentionally performed the role of counselor or therapist without any of the training to deal with the emotional weight they were handing me. The people speaking to me might have felt some relief by getting this off their chest, but I did not even have the slightest idea that all this talk was triggering my own unresolved issues.
From that day, I am very conscious about how my body reacts to the stories I am hearing. I realized that the fitness chain client's story hit really hard because as a startup entrepreneur, no one tells you a good job. At any given moment (sometimes it feels like every given moment) everyone – your clients/beneficiaries, your employees, your board, your advisors — is unhappy with you. You somehow make it home, and here also everyone – your partner, your kids, your parents, your extended family, your friends — has some bone to pick with you. You can't help but feel that you are not enough.
As I reflected on the wave of sadness that hit me, I realized that trying to go on indefinitely without positive reinforcement could be catastrophic. Everyone, including myself, is so quick to criticise, but not to praise oneself and others. The self-critic in all of us is very much alive and ensures that we are much better at flogging than praising ourselves. I think deep down we genuinely believe that we are helping out with our thoughtful criticism. I no longer think so. I consciously try and compliment people and positively reinforce the behaviour they would like to see in their lives.
These days, I try to be the Coach—both to myself and others. And I always find a way to say: “Good job.”