“I’m not an artist” and other lies

We often use self-limiting language without realizing we’re doing it. These phrases, over time, can shape the way we see ourselves and the way others see us.

What are some of the lies we tell ourselves?

Painting and photo by me

“I’m bad at…”

I recently spoke with a woman who is a PhD, a research psychologist and a professor of Psychology. She offhandedly told me she is “bad at math”. I was surprised that someone could earn a PhD while being “bad at math”. I asked why she would attach that label to herself. She shared some background on the struggles she had throughout her 24 years of schooling, being diagnosed with ADHD as an adult, and finding help and support along the way to enable her to complete the math courses needed to earn her degrees.

Labeling ourselves as “bad” in any context is…well, bad. The word itself has only negative connotation (with some notable exceptions found here). Anything that starts with “I am” describes a state of being. Even when we use the words flippantly, those messages stick in our brain and can subtly diminish our sense of worth.

The label also serves as a brand that others see and generally don’t question. If I tell you I’m a bad cook (I’m not), you don’t need to see evidence of my lack of culinary skill – you take it at face value. That then becomes your experience of me and the label sticks.

Claiming to be bad at something can also be a way of letting ourselves off the hook without giving it an effort. When my daughter was in seventh grade, she declared herself “bad at math” and accepted her poor grades as inevitable. I asked if she had done her best. She started to say yes, and realized it wasn’t true. She found math challenging and didn’t like it much, so she hadn’t put in the effort. Once she tried, her grade improved. She still didn’t like math, but she found satisfaction in being able to exceed her own expectation.

As I talked to my PhD friend, I invited her to reframe her statement from “I’m bad at math” to “math is challenging for me.” Changing the language changes the perspective. Rather than framing the apparent deficit it as a state of being within ourselves, we can frame it as a characteristic of the external challenge, which we can then choose to address…or not.

“I’m not…”

As a child, I loved paint-by-numbers. Couldn’t get enough. We had 8x10” paintings of horses, clowns, little girls with big eyes propped up all around my room and in various corners of the house. Occasionally I would try to create an original painting, but could never manage to get the image in my head to appear on the canvas. As I grew into adulthood, I found myself envious of people who could draw or paint or sculpt without a pattern to follow. “I’m not creative”, I declared. “I’m not an artist.”

Through my coach training I met an amazing artist, Marianne Gargour, who incorporates art into her coaching (and coaching into her art). She recently hosted a 3-day creativity workshop which I attended mostly to support her, again telling myself “I’m not an artist.” Her simple exercises unlocked something in me. I signed up for a 4-week painting class and now have about a dozen of my own painting strewn around my office. One of my favorites is above. The big shift was choosing to not focus on the outcome but to enjoy the process (more on that here). For all of the years that I avoided any kind of creative endeavor, instead of “I’m not an artist” I could have said “I haven’t yet uncovered the path to my creativity.”

“I can’t…”

Similar to “I’m bad at”, we love to talk about the things we can’t do. While the “bad” label typically refers to a skill or competency, “I can’t” often relates to achieving a desired outcome. I can’t get organized. I can’t lose the weight. I can’t finish a book. When we’re saying “I can’t” we usually mean “I haven’t made it a priority” or “I haven’t yet figure out how”.

My grandmother had a lot of sayings. One of her favorites was “can’t means won’t”. I didn’t understand that as a child. I thought it implied willfulness or laziness (which, frankly, it often did). My mother’s version of that saying was a little more encouraging: “what have you tried?” That question introduced a sense of accountability and was an invitation to problem solving. Another great question when faced with a declaration of “I can’t”: what can you do? That makes room for possibility, rather than closing the door on success.

An invitation to reframe

Instead of “I’m bad at…”, how about

“I find it challenging to…”

“I haven’t yet mastered…”

“I’m still working on…”

Rather than “I’m not…”, maybe try

“I haven’t yet uncovered…”

“I’ve never seen myself as…”

“I haven’t figure out how to be…”

When you start to say “I can’t…”, think about changing it to

“I don’t yet have a plan to…”

“I haven’t yet prioritized…”

“I can…”

I invite you to start making different choices in the language you use and challenging others to do the same. Then pay attention to the possibilities that emerge.