Self Sabotage in the Sixth Grade
My teacher gave our class an assignment in the sixth grade: to write a speech on an approved topic. The project was a defining moment in my life. It was the first time I sabotaged my success.
The assignment was part of a public speaking contest for the senior grades in my elementary school. The winner from each classroom would present their speech at the school assembly. From there, a select few would represent the school at an upcoming public speaking event.
In the sixth grade, I was a good student; I followed directions, I completed tasks. I did what I was told. I had no desire to produce the winning speech; I just wanted to create a good speech. I wrote a funny speech, a speech about parents. And while I had no desire to produce the best speech in my class, I did just that.
I will never forget the moment that my speech was selected as the winning speech. Some kids would have squealed with excitement; others would have smiled; some would have claimed the day as the best day of their 11-year-old life. Not me. I remember feeling shame and thinking to myself: This is a mistake. You are NOT the best writer in the class. You are NOT the most creative student in the class.
At the time, we had a supply teacher, and the supply teacher selected my speech as the winning speech. I thought to myself: She made a mistake. She isn’t a real teacher. What does she know? There are students in this class that are much more creative and much more deserving. This supply teacher made a mistake, and now you have to prove her wrong.
In preparation for the big day, I did not practice my speech. I attached no joy to the process; I was not committed to doing my best. I decided I was not deserving of this win, and I did everything in my power, short of not giving the speech, to sabotage my chances of winning in the next round.
On that day, in front of many students and teachers, I read my speech. I read the speech with no emotion, no conviction, no joy. I remember saying to myself: The students can see that you are a fake. You do not deserve to be up here. Prove them right. And when I wasn’t selected to move forward to the next round, I thought to myself: See, you were right! You weren’t good enough, and now you proved it to the students and teachers. Now they know. Now you can go back to being a good student, not a winning student.
This public speaking event was my introduction to the world of self-sabotage and negative talk. This way of thinking is something I have carried with me well into adulthood. I carried this way of thinking into jobs, relationships, and almost every aspect of my life. I built a foundation rooted in self-sabotage and negative talk.
It wasn’t that I did not want to succeed in life; instead, I did not want to see myself try and then fail. I was not equipped to deal with my failure. I was a good student. Good students don’t fail.
And so what did I do? I managed to find personal and professional roles where I could focus on being someone else’s cheerleader, where I could remind others that they could do just about anything. I gave my all to ensure that others succeeded.
I had no desire to sabotage others. I had no desire to speak negatively to others. That was an action I reserved for myself. I wanted my personal and professional connections to flourish. I tried to help them see their greatness. However, I could not do the same for myself. Whenever there were moments where I could take things to the next level, all I could do was think of that 11-year-old girl and tell myself: You do not deserve to be here. Prove them right.
