A few weeks ago I blogged about a private tutoring session I'd just led where I left the family's home with the weird feeling that the vibe had been off and I might not be hearing from them again.
I could not put my finger on exactly WHY I felt that way. I just had that impression.
So far however, my intuition has proved accurate... I never heard back from the mother nor did she respond to my polite thank you email.
As I've waited patiently to see whether or not she would respond, I've frequently wondered what I might have done differently to improve as a tutor on that day for their family (the only time I had ever met the mother or child) so that I wouldn't have lost the account.
Tonight while driving home from working with another student ~ which is going extremely well ~ I realized that in all of the years I have tutored students privately, this was actually the only time to my knowledge that I have ever had a client immediately dissatisfied with my work. No wonder it shook me!
As I turned a corner, a sudden thought struck leaving me laughing. "Why don't I just ask them for feedback? If they were dissatisfied, I can simply ask why! If I know what the problem is... I can work on bettering myself and improve what I have to offer for future clients!"
I don't know why I didn't think of that weeks ago.
What a novel concept... just ASK. Ask for feedback.
This purpose of this 365 blog is to explore the meaning of life, as intended for my three small children, and to share with them my own often hard-won perspective.
It makes perfect sense then, to devote today's post to the importance of coming face to face with failure and loss, then finding the courage to ask for constructive criticism.
As a young girl and (later) adolescent, I was definitely not comfortable asking for feedback. I literally cringed at the notion of receiving a bad grade, and burned all papers returned to me covered in the teacher's red ink.
Constructive advice did not make me angry. Not at all. Rather, extensive critiques reinforced my own self doubt and insecurity to the point of depleting my sense of self esteem. I felt physically ill. I was already equipped with such a harsh inner critic that getting objective feedback from the outside world often just compounded my own sense of inadequacy.
For example, it would not have occurred to me to ask my Freshman English teacher why I couldn't seem to crack a "B" in her class. I would also never have made a point of asking the police officer that gave me my first stoplight ticket how I could be a better driver (although traffic school helped out with that one...) and I don't think it ever crossed my mind in the first 23 years I knew my parents to ask them how I could be a better daughter.
Similarly, it would not have occurred to me at age 16 to ask my high school boyfriend why he'd broken up with me. (Even if he'd given me some straightforward answer like, "You're self-involved, You talk too much, I want a girlfriend who will sleep with me, I met someone else," etc, I'm not sure I'd have been ready to hear his truth back then.)
I spent a lot of my adolescence and early adulthood mystified then, groping in the dark for answers and wondering what was WRONG with me; why a lot of things I'd wanted or loved slipped out of my grasp, much to my dismay.
The funny thing is, I would have saved a lot of time and heartache by simply asking for the lesson.
For example,
"What was wrong with this paper and why did you give it a C+?"
"What was missing for you in our relationship? Are there ways in which you think I could grow and mature?"
"How can I be a better and kinder friend to you?"
"How are you feeling about things with me right now? Are there life lessons you think I need to learn?"
There *were* a few times when I DID ask for the truth, mind you, and didn't get it. When I asked the serious boyfriend who was leaving me at the age of 23 if there was another woman in the picture, and he defensively insisted "No! There's no-one else!" - that was one instance of me actually being brave enough to stand right up next to the painful truth... and Life not playing fair and square. (As it turns out, he's married to her today.)
But overall, asking for honest constructive feedback - even when painful to hear - would probably have yielded some honest answers over time and made an important difference in my growth and self-view.
Denial is not a great platform for growth. Facing hard truths can do a lot for personal evolution.
Important life lessons often come out of failure and loss. That old cliche, "When you lose, don't lose the lesson" is actually fairly valid. I've done a lot of losing in my 35 years, and I've learned a lot of lessons the hard way. Each of those lessons has, I believe, functioned to make me a better person. More humble and definitely more grateful!
Here are just a few of the important life lessons I learned the hard way from losses I brought upon myself at earlier ages. Each one has its own story:
- Don't mix career and romance.
- Don't support another person on your credit card.
- Don't take family members for granted - they won't live forever.
- Don't gossip. Ever.
- Be careful who you tell your personal secrets to...
- Don't lie. Ever. The truth always comes out.
- Don't give your heart away to just anyone. Make them work for it.
- If you show only your optimistic, sunny side people will accuse you of being false or insincere.
I'm sure there are many more losses I incurred along the way, all of which brought important lessons.
One loss that stands out at this moment:
At the age of 25? 26? not long before beginning to date my husband, I flew to Texas to visit an old college fling that I'd never really closed the door on. The guy was exciting and romantic, and we had good chemistry. For at least 6 years he'd held a small but crucial piece of my heart despite geographical distance between us.
Once there, I was so surprised and bummed by his post-college lifestyle. There were a lot of hard drugs, a lot of escapism. Worse, he and his friends routinely drove all over the state while drinking a ton of beer at the wheel, putting not only themselves but also other innocent drivers and passengers in danger.
"Look," I announced. "I'm not going to get in a car where the driver is literally drinking while driving. Maybe that makes you think I'm lame or childish. I don't care."
"We're not in California anymore," he replied. "Things work differently here. This is Texas. People think and act more independently than they do where you live. You're in my house and you need to play by my rules. When in Rome, you know... Don't be a prude."
"Then I guess it is time for me to leave your house," I retorted, "And return to my own. I live by my own rules and I'm not going to drive around this state in some car with a drunk ass*(&^ behind the wheel, just to impress you."
It may sound from this exchange like it would have been easy for me to fly home and let go of that guy. After all, I'd lost a lot of respect for him -- and clearly he had no respect for my 'uptight' California lifestyle either. He'd called me a prude, his own form of feedback. What can I say - at least he was honest.
Saying goodbye to him, which I did that week in Texas, felt like a true loss to me though. I guess if anything, I was mourning the loss of some innocent romantic notions I'd long cherished where I pictured him cleaning himself up and us ending up together. We wrote back and forth a little after the trip, but it was never the same again.
The lessons I took from that week in Texas were many. You can love the idea of a person, but not respect the actual person all that much. We were not suited to each other, despite six years of trysts, dreaming and hoping.
I learned that it really doesn't matter how other people see you, especially if their peer pressure is putting your own life and health at risk. I learned that I was strong enough to walk away from someone magnetically attractive, because in the end, I honored myself more than I honored him.
Happily, just three months later my husband and I went on our first date and the rest is history. Perhaps by losing a misguided conception of what I thought I wanted, I finally freed myself up to find something real and lasting.
* * * * *
The purpose of this post is simple... life is full of mistakes and losses. You can learn a lot about how to expand as a person and improve your chances for future success by asking for clear, honest feedback. There is always a lesson in every loss, if you are brave enough to look for it.
In my freshman yearbook from high school, a close friend (graduating senior, wonderful girl!) wrote the following advice - which I took to heart, and has served me well over the past 21 years:
"One last piece of advice - listen to what people say about you, even if it hurts to hear criticism. Try to think deeply about it and look for the truth in it. If you find you don't like yourself or your life situation, you ALWAYS have the power to change!"
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