What happens in our brain when work is challenging

Things at work are challenging and intense. The company isn’t having a great quarter and the future is uncertain. The constant solving of problems has sucked so much of your energy that most of the time you are just numb and trying to make it through the day, holding on to a shred of hope that someday it will end. Either by you winning the lottery or some fairy godmother coming to present an amazing opportunity to you with a company that somehow is immune from all the ups and downs of business.

And then you go to a meeting with your fellow leaders and realize that one of your colleagues has shipped off a copy of the work you did on a project to the powers that be, without you knowing. Worse, the hours of work you spent creating it are left unaccounted for as they receive credit for it and your name is not even mentioned.

You start spinning. Do you say something? That would be weird. Then you would just be trying to draw attention to yourself. Does it even matter if people know it was you? And what if you did and your boss laughed at you saying how ridiculous you are acting.

It’s just like that time in elementary school when….and then you feel the shame of playground rejection all over again as if it just happened yesterday.

And it’s all so human.

When things get intense at work or in life, our brains have a tendency to fall back into the well worn thought patterns created over time about who we believe ourselves to be. This can be especially prevalent in situations where we are receiving feedback, feeling pressure to deliver, feeling undervalued or in fear of failing.

Even though this is something I study and work on all the time with others, it just recently happened to me…again. Nope, it’s not the first time.

I’ve been pushing against a big goal and all the negative beliefs I’ve held about myself in the past have been shoved to the surface, surprising me with their intensity. The self-criticism, perfectionism, arguments with time and achievement, and lack of self-trust. The difference is that once I realized what was happening, I was able to watch it in fascination. Yes, I definitely wanted to make it a problem, at first. Like it was something I needed to step aside from my goals and solve before I could move forward. And then it became clear what was happening and I thought to myself:

Yep, it’s a big goal and all of this is right on time.

I can still lead from my values. I can still acknowledge all my strengths. None of that will stop. And this challenge right here isn’t a problem or something wrong with me. It’s simply an invitation to step into an even better, stronger version of myself. To proactively counteract what will naturally happen by reminding myself who I am now and who I was, even on that playground when I didn’t see my own worthiness.

This is mental agility. The ability to move between two ideas with flexibility. The unconscious you that has been created over time as the world told you who you needed to be and the conscious you, the one that aligns you with your core beliefs and values. You see both and you can love both for what they teach you, while still deciding which one you’ll choose to lead your life with at any given time.

So let’s bring it back to the original challenge and whether you speak up for yourself when your colleague has removed your name from all of the project references. Your mind is stuck between two personas: the you that was rejected and the you that knows and carries your worth honestly and proudly.

So I ask you, as that person that knows her worth and grounds herself in her strengths and values, how do you respond to this challenge?

For me, it’s a conversation with my colleague to find out what thoughts they had when sending it without my name, followed by a conversation with leadership as to my involvement for their awareness. No drama, just the facts and keeping things real. I don’t need to take anything away from my colleague, there is room for both of us to be great. At the same time, I don’t need to bow down and dim my own light in order for them to shine. That doesn’t serve either of us.

I would love to hear how you would respond.