Working harder on being a Duck

But he's wrong, dangit!

I totally lost it at work yesterday. I was in a disagreement with my editor over something meaningless, and I was livid pissed. He was wrong. I was right. This is bull!

I went looking for confirmation of my rightness, and got shot down. "But he's wrong!" I whined to my supervisor. His sage advice: "Get over it."



But I couldn't. I felt betrayed. And I was furious for the remainder of my shift — swearing under my breath (and, at times, quite loudly), hurrying through the rest of my work and finally storming out of the building. It was a full-blown fit. I was mad enough that I'd forgotten to turn in my time sheet. Which made me even angrier.

This morning I woke up and thought, "Oh. My. Gosh. That was ridiculous."

And it was. It was a meaningless argument, but my pride was hurt. I felt like my talents and knowledge weren't being appreciated. I resented my boss pulling rank on me, especially when I felt like clearly I know more about the subject than he does. It was a personal affront — not just that he was saying he didn't agree with my decision, but by extension must think that I'm an idiot for havin g made such a decision in the first place. I was angry my supervisor had more wisdom than me and is better at picking his battles. I had picked this battle, dangit, and I needed backup. Instead he let me hang.

Let's be clear: I love my job. I love my career. I'm still living in the honeymoon phase of "This is so much better than my last job," that most things still roll right off my back. I am a duck, and I love this pond.

But I have a fatal flaw.

Shortly after taking this gig last May, I was delighted with a page I had designed. I was desperately seeking someone to admire my work and tell me how great it (I) was. An editor walked by and I snagged him, "Look at my page! Isn't it wonderful!?" I crowed.

"Sure." he said. "Looks good."

Which of course wasn't near enough. I pressed for more. And he gave me a very level gaze and said simply, "Why are you so insecure?"

That's really the heart of it. I'm crazy insecure. And unfortunately I can't blame it on 3 years of working for a near sociopath for whom nothing was ever good enough. I was insecure when I got there. I have no faith in my own abilities and I look for a sense of self and completeness in the quality of my work. The why of that is much longer than single blog post.


My supervisor recently made fun of me for being a perfectionist. I joked, "For a perfectionist, I sure screw up a lot." Both are true. I make a lot of mistakes, and each one kills me — it sits as proof that I have not arrived. Every printed error screams at me, "You aren't a good editor. They're going to figure you out soon. And then what will you do?"


Several years ago I took a spiritual class that focused on finding ourselves in God. Why am I insecure? Because I look to my work to fulfill me. I strive for the accolades of colleagues to tell me I'm good enough because I don't think I am. I go after academic perfection (master's degree), overachieve at my desk, strive for promotion.

I'm insecure because I have yet to figure out how to believe God when he tells me I'm OK.

According to the class, if we're satisfied by Christ, then we are better able to be The Duck and let outside things roll of us, particularly criticism and failure. We don't have to take it to heart because we know that we are in Christ, that through Him we are daily being made perfect and our errors, our mistakes, don't define us. Instead, Christ defines us. When we're filled with doubts, we're supposed to look in the Bible and see what Jesus says about us and feel better.

I love it, it's a beautiful picture. Instead of saying, "Hi, I'm Savannah, and I'm insecure." I get to say, "Hi, I'm Savannah, and Jesus thinks I'm wonderful."

And His opinion is really the only one that matters. (Well, His and maybe the guy that signs my pay stub — if I remember to turn in my time card ...)

I'm not there yet, obviously. But I'm reaching for it — and I'm a perfectionist, so I won't give up until I get there. In the meantime, I know that God has placed me in the work environment I'm supposed to be in and has ahold of my life. So even if I don't think I'm good enough to keep me here — if this is where God wants me to be, He'll keep me here.

And maybe that'll make it easier to let my boss win when he's obviously wrong. Maybe.