“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them”
Henry David Thoreau
Many men, me included, find it hard to ask for help.
I'm not (just) talking about help with their mental health. I mean asking for help with anything.
There's something about it that goes to the core of our expectations that men must be competent. Problem solvers. Doers.
To ask for help can feel tantamount to admitting incompetence. That can be almost an existential threat.
I recognise that in myself.
But I also think there is something deeper at play, something routed in our childcare experiences: Fear of rejection.
Vulnerability and connection
Part of my personal mission statement is about building connections with other people. I included it in my mission for two reasons:
I think connection is important
I'm scared to do it, and my mission gives me the kick to face that fear
I'm feeling a bit of pressure at the moment. Per my post a couple of weeks ago, my business is losing an important client soon. The upshot of that is we need to find some new clients, and fast.
This is new territory for me. I've mostly built Honeycomb passively to date. Clients have come from my existing network, referrals, or inbound enquiries. Other than some half-hearted experiments we've never done any cold outreach.
There's a reason for that: I'm scared of putting myself out there.
It takes a lot of vulnerability to face that fear. In some cases - like this blog - I have no problem being vulnerable. But something about invading someone’s inbox is really difficult for me.
Frankly, losing a chunk of revenue may well turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I'm reminded again of the Chinese farmer: Is it bad news? Maybe. Maybe not.
Why is losing a client potentially good news?
Because this pressure is pushing me to do some things I know are necessary but have been avoiding.
It is the catalyst I need to be vulnerable. The kick to face into my fear.
My fear of rejection
A consistent theme has emerged from the personal growth work I've done, with my therapist and my men's groups. I now understand that I have a lot of subconscious fear of being judged poorly, criticised, and ultimately rejected.
I wasn't aware of this fear until quite recently. A year ago I was invited to staff a Mankind Project New Warrior Training Adventure for the first time. This was a step into the unknown, working alongside a large group of men in an intense environment.
A handful of these men I'd met before. Most I hadn't. And many of them interact in ways that are unusual, with a rare - and raw - honesty and vulnerability. It truly is an extraordinary thing to be part of.
I've been lucky to experience some incredible team environments, through playing rugby and at the top tier of strategy consulting projects. The staff team on this Mankind weekend was on another level.
I'd never before seen a group come together with such a single-minded focus. Every man there was committed to saying what needed to be said to get the energy right for our purpose. There was no room to hide, to carry grudges, or avoid difficult conversations. No room for politics or favouritism. We were there for a reason and any conflicts that didn't serve that had to be addressed.
I spent much of that weekend in awe, and in fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing, behaving in the wrong way. Fear that I wasn't brave enough to say what needed to be said, in case I got it “wrong”. In case they saw my incompetence, laid bare.
I was scared to be vulnerable in case it led to judgement and rejection by these men I admired.
That fear was all my stuff. My projections. There was no actual risk of me being rejected for speaking honestly in that environment - anything I had going on would have been welcomed.
But the fear kept me a bit disconnected for much of the weekend. Keeping the other men at arm's length. Staying silent, in quiet desperation, rather than seeking support.
As first time staffers we had a mentor looking after us. There was a point where he facilitated a check in to see how we were all doing. It was now or never if I wanted to face that fear.
I managed to say how I was feeling and… I wasn't rejected. Quite the opposite. Other men were feeling the same. We spoke about it, even cried about it, releasing long bottled up tension in an environment that made that possible.
Ultimately, asking for support strengthened the group and enhanced my experience of being there.
Not good enough
That fear of rejection comes from my childhood. My Dad has a habit of shutting down conversation - he doesn’t easily enter into curious discussion. I learned to be fearful of saying the “wrong” thing, of behaving in the “wrong” way. Of being seen as incompetent.
To keep my parents and my teachers happy I worked hard and excelled academically. It was at least clear to me that working hard was behaving in the “right” way.
As a teenager I struggled to figure out social interactions, wanting to connect but fearing rejection. My solution then was to drink too much. I was good at drinking. My peers celebrated my ability to down a pint, or handle my shots.
A blurry short-lived acceptance through beer goggles.
And every morning after the night before I would wake up wracked with fear again. Would I be judged and rejected for things I could barely remember? Things I had said or done the night before?
I know many men who deal with that self-loathing on a hungover morning.
These childhood wounds stay with us. Right up to the present moment, and my need to find some new clients.
Warm connections from cold starts
There are two ways you can get new clients for a training business. They can come to you, or you can reach out to them. Right now, I’m facing into doing the latter.
That means cold emails and DMs. Risking pissing people off if they perceive it as SPAM.
I'll be cold emailing ~1,300 people over the next few weeks. I truly believe that what we offer is valuable for them. Some of them will become my clients. Some I may end up building connection with, even becoming a trusted advisor a few years from now.
And some will unsubscribe. I may even get some angry responses from people irritated by the inbox invasion. I may get triggered. I may stew on those responses, even as I rationalise them away. Those triggers are an opportunity to get clearer on what's going on for me.
This situation is forcing me to do the right things to grow my business. To face into my vulnerability and take the risk of being seen as irritating or incompetent, and then rejected. This is a chance to shine light on my shadow fears and then process the feelings that come up for me.
Ultimately, both me and my business will be in better shape afterwards.
As my therapist would say: just another fucking opportunity for growth.
rebirth - Alex Elle
there will be moments when
you bloom fully, and then
wilt, only to bloom again.
if we learn anything from
flowers it is that resilience is born
even when we feel like we are
dying.