Intimidating

September 20, 2022

“Don’t be afraid to use the P-word when you talk to him, ok?“

“Huh?“

“Oh. Sorry, the other P-word women hate to say – promotion. Tell him you want to go up this year and ask him for feedback.“

“Oh Rebecca, I’m so intimidated by that conversation.“

One of the hats I wear at work is that of “coach”. I have six people who all let me try to offer them career advice about once a month, and the conversation above was one I had today with one of the rock-star data scientists I have in my coaching group. She’s trying to make some decisions about when she should throw her hat in the ring for a promotion, and I’ve been coaching her through some conversations with her management to see how supportive they are. I’ve worked with this lady long enough that I wasn’t surprised by her reaction here – in fact, I’ve started to believe that ‘intimidated’ is one of her favorite words. The only thing I can think to say to her when she tosses that word out is something like “Girl, I’m intimidated every day. Literally. If I let intimidation stop me from doing things, I’d never get anything done.”

I try my best to support her through her intimidation- we’ve had role playing conversations where I pretend to be her boss, we’ve worked on public speaking together – anything and everything I can think of to give her some practice and build some confidence. But I know better than anyone, sometimes you’re intimidated by things and the only thing you can do is close your eyes and face them. And I certainly can’t blame her for feeling intimidated by these vulnerable conversations she needs to have at work because I feel really daunted by those conversations as well. Every time you need to get feedback from you boss or your teammates you are opening yourself up to criticism and possible pain, and that can be really scary. But unfortunately, there’s no other way to learn and grow.

The truth is that I am intimidated all the time. My stomach was in knots all morning today because I had a one-on-one conversation scheduled with a client. He’s just a man – an extremely nice man – but the thought of walking into his office with an invoice and a long list of uncomfortable questions to ask him about funding and such was so scary. The reason it was scary was that it was my first time ever doing it. I’ve talked to him a million times about math and project timelines and python code, but this was the first time my boss ever asked me to go and talk to him about dollars before. It was so intimidating, but of course it went fine. Then I had to jump on my phone to talk to my coachee about the P-word, and started giving her useless advice (see my blog about mansplaining) like “awe don’t be intimidated.” This! From a woman who fussed and fretted and remade the same powerpoint slide 4 times this morning: “DoN’t FeEl InTiMiDaTeD.” No matter what I say or how much I try to help her, she’s going to feel intimidated by these things until she does them about 100 times, and then she’ll find something else to intimidate her. And then she’ll retire. It’s the American dream and we are living it, baybee.

Here are some things that intimidate me:

1. Home improvement projects. I cried on FaceTime with my dad when I tried to hang the curtains in my house and messed up my wall with my new power drill. I cried alone the next day when I watched that YouTube video about spackle and realized no one was coming to help. This guy came to look at my hvac yesterday and asked “Has anyone told you about the damper?” and said something about some kind of drain and I just handed him my credit card and smiled.
2. Pivot tables. I have a motherfucking PhD in Statistics. I developed, theoretically proved and empirically tested my own motherfucking method of dimensionality reduction. I wrote a 100 page dissertation. Yet, pivot tables in Microsoft Excel make me act like a little baby. I can’t figure them out, I don’t like how often I need them, and my boss hates me.
3. Nail salons and the dentist. See my previous blog post. I’m really sorry I cut my nails too short and don’t floss enough. Please don’t hit me.
4. The non-cardio part of gyms. You know, that big area with all the weights and stuff? And all those machines? I’d go over there but everyone is looking at me and judging me for the way I pick stuff up and put it down. What’s that? No one gives a shit about me or is looking at me at all? The world doesn’t revolve around me and I’m not as interesting or hot as I think I am? Oh.
5. Driving in DC. I am not one of those people who is under any false impression that I am a good driver. I’m terrible at it, I don’t like doing it and it hurts my feelings when you honk at me.
6. The girls on my running team. They are 6th, 7th and 8th graders and I can tell they don’t think I’m cool and they know that I never was cool and will probably never be cool. And they are right.
7. Eating at restaurants with new friends who don’t know how picky I am yet. Look. I know that you know a great little Indian restaurant in Arlington and I would love to go there with you because I am absolutely desperate for you to like me. But also, no.
8. First dates. That part where he is going to see what my face looks like in person, while doing things like talking and drinking is really scary.
9. Second dates. What’s the big idea here? You saw my face in broad daylight and talked to me for like an hour the other day and yet here you are, back for more. Do you need money? Trying to win a bet with the guys in homeroom? Running from the law? Here, take my wallet, don’t hurt my puppy.
10. Active Dry Yeast. You never know when that shit is just not going to make my dough rise, and it is going to happen when I’m making dinner for Chris Pratt or something. So embarrassing.

I had a long meeting with a former client on Friday (believe it or not, he used to intimidate me, heh). He’s this guy from West Virginia who calls me “Becky” without my consent, and after years of interacting with me, he’s gotten comfortable. We scheduled time to just catch up and he mentioned that he and his wife were celebrating 40 years of marriage, which got us onto the topic of my marital status. When I told him I was single, he nodded and said “not surprising.” My mouth kind of fell open because most people aren’t so bold as to call me “fugly” to my face, but then he followed with “I imagine it will take a special man to match your intellect. You probably intimidate every man you meet. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

People say things like this to me all the time and it always makes me laugh. “He’s just intimidated by you. He realized how awesome you are couldn’t handle it.” I’m 5’0″ tall and 120 lbs. I get bullied by a 10-year-old on my street. I’m not kidding about this. More than once I have been walking home from the grocery store, and this little girl will step in front of me and assume this youth-league basketball defensive stance, and she’ll shuffle her feet left and right as I try to pass her. And all I can do is just stand there with this mean child all up in my personal space and take it until her little brother distracts her enough that I can make a run for it.

But sure, all of these grown men are intimidated by me? I do wonder sometimes if there’s any truth to that. Not because I’m as smart as Greg from West Virginia thinks I am or as amazing as my girlfriends will tell me when I call them upset on a Saturday night, because these things almost certainly not true. No one is sooooo smart and sooooo amazing that someone is going to be like “nah, it’s gonna be a no from me, dawg”. But maybe I give off some sort of vibe – like this intense I’ll-love-you-forever-and-make-you-steak-dinners-once-a-week vibe that makes the “Back off, none of your business, we don’t need to label this” crowd nervous about moving too fast. Or maybe it’s a vibe that says “I worry so much about having my shit together that you will worry about how not together your shit is and that won’t feel good.” Or maybe I’m fugly. Who knows?

I always complain about the word “vibe” and how about 2 out of every 5 dating profiles say “good vibes only”, as if I’m going to intentionally show up with my bad vibes and you better be okay with that and love me at my Marylin Monroe worst. But now that I’m writing this post…what if I’m showing up with these bad, intimidating vibes by accident? Now I’m intimidated by my own intimidation and this rabbit hole is getting dark. But I guess I just need to read back to the beginning of this post where I was talking about my coachee and how the secret for her to get over being intimidated is for her to…well…get over it (super, duper helpful coach of the year, am I right?!) If these fellas actually are intimidated by my authentic, intense, loving, shit-together-having-self – I guess they’ll just have to…get over it? And if I’m just fugly, I guess I’ll have to get over that. LOL.

I hope I cheered you up some on this Tuesday, I’m gonna go try to get my shit together.