Old Portrait

When I think about public speaking, I still remember the anxiety.

I remember how large the prospect of speaking in front of people could feel. Knowing I would have to do it was enough to make me nervous. Even now, that is the version of myself I picture: someone for whom a presentation is a big deal.

But work has required me to present again and again. Somewhere along the way, it became an ordinary part of the job. I have a presentation to give, so I give it. There is work to get through afterwards.

Last week, a coworker complimented me on how confident I seemed. I dismissed it almost immediately. Confident was a word I would have had trouble applying to myself.

Only later did I notice that I had barely thought about the presentation until they mentioned it. I had treated the compliment as surprising, while treating the thing they were complimenting as no big deal.

What is a compliment you find hard to believe?

In 1989, psychologist William Swann and his colleagues followed 48 pairs of university roommates. At the beginning of the semester, the students rated themselves on intelligence, social skills, attractiveness, athletic ability, and artistic or musical ability. Later, they could choose which questions they wanted their roommate to answer about them.

Some questions asked about strengths. Others asked about problems or weaknesses. The students could decide both what they wanted to hear about and what kind of answer to invite.

They generally wanted to hear about the things they thought they were good at. But when asking about something they believed they were bad at, they tended to choose questions that invited criticism. The same person could seek praise about their intelligence and criticism about their social skills.

Students with high self-esteem did this too. They could feel good about themselves and still want a roommate to confirm something they disliked about themselves.

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Swann called this desire for confirmation self-verification. We want other people to recognise the person we believe ourselves to be, including the parts we wish were different.

Knowing what to expect from people makes social life easier to navigate. If we believe we are awkward, a conversation that goes badly makes sense. When a conversation goes well, we may explain it away. Perhaps the other person was unusually friendly. Perhaps they were carrying the conversation.

In his account of why self-images resist change, Swann describes how we can pay more attention to feedback that agrees with us, remember it better, and doubt people who see us differently.

This can happen before we have considered whether their view is fair. Someone who praises us may seem too generous or poorly informed. Someone who notices a familiar flaw may seem to understand us.

We can then look back over those reactions and find plenty of support for what we already believed. The compliment barely counts. The criticism stays with us. Even with someone else offering an opinion, we still have a say in which version of ourselves gets confirmed.

When we want others to see us as we see ourselves, behaving differently can feel misleading. Speaking up in a meeting may feel rehearsed. Sharing something we have written may feel presumptuous. We can mean what we say and still feel awkward saying it.

That awkwardness can make us wonder whether we are putting on an act. We hear ourselves being more direct than usual and notice every word. The effort it takes becomes a reason to doubt whether it belongs to us. Staying silent would have felt easier, even with something we wanted to say.

If every change has to feel natural from the beginning, being true to ourselves leaves very little room to grow.

We may have to speak up, share the work, or accept the compliment while it still feels unlike us. Otherwise, we can spend years being faithful to a description that stopped being accurate.

^{This is a space for exploration and reflection, not medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice. Each reader’s situation is unique and deserves the right kind of support. If you are struggling or in crisis, please contact a licensed mental health professional. This edition contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases at no additional cost to you.}