2 things I learned from the worst client experience ever

I train public speakers. By speakers I mean anyone who speaks. And by public I mean speaking in front of any other living body. So basically I train anyone and everyone for any and all types of settings. After 3 plus years training hundreds and hundreds of folks from all different industries, ranging up and down the corporate ladder, last week I had my worst experience ever.

It was real bad. (Let's just say I jumped in my rental car and I found the closest Old Navy and did some retail therapy.) There are lot of reasons why it was bad. I mentioned a few of the juicy and shock-worthy details to friends over lunch the other day. They were mortified and laughing in disbelief. But it wasn't the actual curve balls and inappropriate comments that are worth sharing. Here's what I want to share:

It's a waste of time hustling for worthiness.

Those aren't my words. They're from a wise researcher named Brene Brown who studies shame, resilience, and authenticity. After I read those words on the pages of her book Gifts of Imperfection, I was changed. I no longer walked into a training hoping to win everyone over - at least not in the 'if you like me, I must be likeable' sort of way. I stopped letting people define who I was. If this workshop happened in the first year of my career, it would have killed me. Can't-stop-crying, must-take-melatonin-to-sleep, replay-conversations-incessantly kind of response. A true reflection that my worth was too wrapped up in what others thought of me.
Last week I drove away with peace: I'm worthy. Nothing will change that.

In full transparency, driving away I mentally scripted a very carefully crafted and calculated email response to the group, shaming them for their attitudes and behaviors. But it never hit a keyboard. Because pride destroys.

Mostly destroys me, but people in my path too. Here's the thing - stating my disappointment, calling out the inappropriate moments (none too HR worthy) and wanting some sort of apology was just to appease my pride. But when I disarm my defensiveness, when I forfeit my pride for the sake of peace, everything is better. I'm not talking about letting people walk all over you or get away with unacceptable behavior or words. If you know me, you know I'd never tolerate that.

But in this case, I knew anything in response would be done in self defense and my pride wasn't worth it. That's a huge accomplishment for me! In the words of my well-intended friend after hearing my story, 'Wow! You've changed a lot!'

Pride sucks. People don't. (for the most part). I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt is was just an off day. We all have them. So what's a little grace to say, 'that's not a reflection of who they really are'.

They're just giving me fodder for a really great book some day detailing all the crazy things I've experienced and heard in my career as training coach!

Let go. Move on!