You’re a Swan, Not a Duck.

The Value of Values

In my early twenties, I worked in outside sales for a startup company in the San Francisco Area. David, my direct manager, was experienced in sales, extroverted, and very pushy. I was green, introverted, and gentle, but I presented myself with confidence, which is probably why I landed the job. 

The professional demographic we served were lawyers, physicians, and CEOs of huge insurance companies. This demographic could be intimidating and hard to please. Being highly sensitive, I often sat in my car after an appointment crying over the brusque behavior I received. I told myself all kinds of negative messages like I was too sensitive, I don’t have what it takes to succeed, or there must be something wrong with me. My manager reinforced those messages telling me to “let the negativity go like water off a duck’s back.” The problem was, I’m not a duck. 

I tried for a while to conduct myself professionally with David’s sales tactics. It felt unnatural. But I wanted so much to succeed, I let a particular passenger on my Life Bus -- my People Pleaser -- highjack me. If I could please my manager, I believed it would pay off in job security. 

My manager kept pushing me to be more aggressive, like him. That wasn’t my style, but being a competitive athlete, I tried to bring that spirit of competition to the workplace. 

I behaved the way he wanted me to. For a while. It didn’t last long. As hard as I tried, his approach didn’t fit my personality, values, or ethics. I couldn’t be someone I’m not. When I tried going against my nature I got sick. Literally. I was constantly nauseated, highly anxious, and I suffered migraine headaches. This is a common occurrence with HSPs (Highly Sensitive Persons). When we allow a passenger to highjack us into behaving in ways that are not natural to us, we often end up burned out, and our health suffers. 

Six months into the job, I began to push back and started listening to my instincts and intuition. If my gut told me not to drop in on an executive on a particular day or time, I listened. I revised my schedule. I asked for inner guidance as to when to approach certain clients. It worked.

Unlike David, I was good at building long-term relationships. He wanted instant results. I was playing the long game. He complained about my sensitivity to the new regional manager, who spent weeks joining me on sales calls. The regional manager challenged David’s perspective about my sensitivity: “What you need to understand is that Martina’s sensitivity will open doors in ways that aggression won’t. Let her do her work to get appointments with the C-Suite executives, and then you can then accompany her to those meetings.”

My manager was reluctant but willing. Slowly, methodically, and with great persistence, I gained the trust of the assistants who were directly serving the professionals in the various organizations. I listened to their problems with genuine interest. I felt for their struggles and challenges. I wanted to be able to help through our services. I showed up earnestly, with authenticity. I followed through. I did all the right things according to my integrity and ethics. 

Within a few months, I had secured meetings with the head professionals that hadn’t given David the time of day. He was pleased. But he didn’t trust me to secure these big accounts based on my approach. So, David accompanied me to these meetings. 

Unfortunately, he was in over his head. His brusque, aggressive manner was an immediate turnoff to the C-suite crowd, who happened to all be men. He essentially got into a pissing contest with them. And he was the loser. Our company was the loser. He made promises I knew our company couldn’t keep. He lied. He pretended to have relationships with top executives he didn’t know. I remember sitting through meeting after meeting, watching David sweat and shift uncomfortably in his seat. On some level, he knew he was out of his depth. He couldn’t back up his promises or lies. He didn’t get the accounts. 

In one meeting, David pretended to have a relationship with a top regional manager at a large insurance firm. Ironically, that very regional executive called the executive we were in a meeting with. He took the call. The look on his face when he told his colleague he was meeting with David and the colleague didn’t know him, said it all. David was exposed. David tried to cover his tracks by saying that it was actually me who knew him. But I wouldn’t back his story. At that point, I was too angry that he wouldn’t release the reigns to my hands. If he had, I believe we would have a good chance at securing the account. 

I only lasted two years at the job. The pay was excellent. I had health insurance and paid time off, but in my heart of hearts, I knew I couldn’t continue to support David’s lies or make excuses for the company. If I did, I was setting myself up to be a complicit liar. How could I continue to nurture and stoke relationships within the firms we served when I couldn’t back up my promises? My company wasn’t on top of its game. Being authentic, truthful, and keeping my word were my highest values. I had a smart head on my shoulders, but being introverted and highly sensitive meant that I had to conduct business from my heart. Yes, I used my intelligence and business savvy to strategize, but my heart was my superpower. It needed to lead.

When I met with David to inform him that I was leaving the firm. He said “you’re making an excellent choice. You’re not cut out for sales. You’re too sensitive. If I were you, I would never work in sales again.” He placed the blame for my failures with the company squarely on my shoulders. Not once did he consider his approach was failing. Incidentally, I did go on to work in sales again for a Fortune 500 company. The senior sales manager had beautiful ethics, was supportive and kind to me, and my health issues were resolved. Most importantly, I held true to my values and that straightened out my life and path.

By the time I was 30, I was ready to work for myself. I was independent, confident in what I was good at, and I liked being my own boss. I could live and conduct business from my values. I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.

The truth of the matter is that I wasn’t too sensitive. And neither are you. But most of the Highly Sensitive Person’s (HSPs) I know and work with are the only ones in their family-of-origin who are highly sensitive. Naturally, this can be confusing to family members who don’t understand because they don’t have the same sensitivity. As a result, our family, schoolmates, teachers, and society misunderstand and give us labels such as ‘too sensitive,’ and we conclude, “there’s something wrong with me.” And that’s terrible on one’s self-esteem and confidence, right? 

I have met many HSPs over the decades who have tried to dress up in duck suits when we are, in fact, elegant swans. (No disrespect to ducks, here!) We are faking our quacks and our waddles. And when we behave like this, we do a great disservice to ourselves because there is nothing more powerful than you being and expressing your truest self from your heart. This can be scary. I know. I’ve been there! It’s scary partly because the passengers on our Life Bus remember that when we were young, we were not accepted or embraced for who we truly were. Mind you, there are HSPs who were raised by amazing parents who knew how to help them with their sensitivities. But even then, an HSP can struggle out in the larger world. 

When we are young, passengers or ‘parts’ develop coping strategies so we can at least appear to fit in because connection is a biological imperative. But we ultimately suffer because we are not seen, heard, or valued for our truest self. We can feel as if we are imposters pretending to be someone we are not. We conclude we are unacceptable or unlovable on some level. This can activate parts to try to compensate by taking on roles such as being a “People Pleaser,” “Perfectionist,” or “Self-critic,” to name a few. 

You don’t need to become someone different to succeed. You simply need to learn to accept who you are and to express yourself in ways that feel comfortable to you. You need to get into the driver’s seat and stay there. And if this were easy to accomplish, I wouldn’t have a job as a coach! I can show you, too, how to thrive in business, in life, in leadership positions, in group situations, and in high-visibility environments. I can teach you how to succeed in every situation that makes you feel insecure or not enough.

If you’re interested in support to go further faster please reach out. I’d love to talk!

Take care of that good heart of yours. 

Martina xx