reclaiming my ambition

First, it was grades. The approval I got from my parents, family members, teachers, and community was a source of love. As a child, there wasn’t much I could control, but good grades brought a feeling of security. It shaped me and how I would come to seek love—and feel worthy of it—for years to come. 

My mother wanted me to be a doctor. When I was in high school, she put me in a program at the University of Pittsburgh called Medical Explorers. Every Wednesday night, minority college-bound students from around the city gathered in a stadium-seated classroom to listen to medical students who looked like us talk about health professions and their medical school experience. There were always cute boys there, and I actually enjoyed most of the meetings. We even got to see the cadavers they studied as part of their coursework. I didn’t want to be a doctor, but I liked being around people who were passionate and driven because their energy rubbed off on me. This would become a theme in my life, too. Another source of security. 

Starting with my first internship in 1995 until I left corporate america in 2013, I worked with high-achievers. I was at home in spaces where most people in the room had more knowledge about the subject-at-hand than me. Just being in the room, being able to say “Yeah, I work at this company with these people” gave me a sense of validation. 

When I changed careers and started over, it would have been helpful if I’d reflected on what achievement means to me and why. Because what followed was years of chasing success and wanting to be accepted by successful people to feel loved. Ultimately I would have to bring this craving out of the shadows, hold it up to the light, and transform it. 

I now know that achievement is one of my core values, and I embrace it. When I suppressed this truth, everything I accomplished felt like it wasn’t enough and never would be. A hidden addiction, it sat in my shadows causing inner conflicts, self-doubt, and dissatisfaction. But when I acknowledged my desire for achievement and got curious about it—it spoke to me. 

It told me that it’s not fulfilling on its own, but I could partner it with my other values like authenticity, creativity, and generosity to serve a purpose that is bigger than me. Working together, these values turn a need for validation into a drive for connection. It told me that the hard part would be getting past my own resistance (hello, auto-pilot reactions) to bring this revelation out of concept and into action.

This clarification has made all the difference in my emotional hygiene and how I approach my work. I’ve changed the way I interpret the pains of ambition: the drop in my stomach when one of my peers moved past me in their career, the knot in my throat when a new project or client didn’t work out, the hunger for validation every step of the way. My ego told me these pains were evidence that I’d always be a day late and a dollar short.  

But when I challenged that narrative and kept showing up for the work that called to me, I finally understood in an intimate way that the journey is the real reward.

This is one way I’m reclaiming my story and an example of the story work I do with clients to help them get over creative blocks. In the month of February, I'm opening up a few spots for 1:1 creative coaching. If you have limiting beliefs that stand in the way of your creative callings, you can learn more about my approach and packages here.