Aplomb

My dad is staying with my boys this week while I travel for business. A stern reminder about the importance of being on their best behavior prompted my 16-year-old to tell me I have nothing to worry about, admitting that he is a little bit afraid of grandpa.  This surprised me, as I view my dad as anything but scary.  When I asked what it is that induces fear, neither boy could put a finger on it.  But somehow, both my boys have been left with the impression that grandpa is someone not to be messed with.

We all have a distinct aura.  The French say “je ne sais quoi”, translated means “I don’t know what”. And that’s exactly it.  I don’t know what it is that mystically melds into the assessments we make to describe a person’s character, but the feelings we associate with people can be immediate and so strong they’re almost palpable.

I consider myself to score high on the self-awareness scale, but as my influence in business has grown, my own cognizance of how I’m received has lagged.  More than once I have been burned, completely unexpectedly, having underestimated my standing and the subsequent behavior in others my actions ignite.

I nearly set off a mutiny years ago when a re-organization occurred on my team and had me heading toward a demotion. Rather than go backwards; I requested to move, and when my peers got wind of it, the reaction was volatile.  While I thought I had been venting harmlessly, I discovered I was really viewed as a cornerstone of the team, and my potential exit left people reeling, creating quite a stir.  The support was awesome, but the consequences for me were ugly; a huge lesson in knowing my audience and keeping myself in check.

Why is it that we sometimes have such a hard time seeing ourselves as others see us?

For women and power, I think a lot of us still look at the world from the perspective of the girl inside of us.  This is especially apparent as we rise in an organization, and become the leaders we’ve aspired to be.  We may have worked tirelessly to get where we are yet we still can’t believe we’ve arrived. 

My kids’ appraisal has me contemplating, yet again, how important it is to have an awareness of the expectations and reactions we elicit, just by the manner in which we hold ourselves. It is more than what we say.  It’s body language, expression, even a smile, all those intangibles others subtly process, often without deliberate intent. In my quest to become more approachable, I’m training myself to become attuned to how I am received.

I believe we can control our own presence and consciously decide in every situation who we are putting out there.

In preparing for a presentation this week for a group of colleagues and influential leaders, I gave careful thought to who I would bring to the meeting.  Many members of my audience have more experience with the content than I do, and believe they have been doing just fine for many years without the product I am introducing.  I wondered how I would win the credibility and respect I needed to be heard.  I could bring a timid wallflower who assumes her audience to be full of hubris and disregard for her allocution. Or I could bring a confident speaker who tirelessly researched, consulted a gaggle of subject matter experts, and wrote the manual (literally) on her topic. 

The performance was a smashing success for me personally, and here’s why:  I made a deliberate decision to bring the confident speaker.  She carefully assembled her content ensuring it was as concise as possible so people could follow.  She forced herself to add one slide, early on, about a topic she is vehemently passionate about, something she can’t help but get excited about, so that she was certain to put some of herself into her talk.  She reviewed her slide deck countless times to make sure she knew her talking points so well she didn’t need notes or to read off the slides.  She sprinkled personal stories of her experience in the job she was explaining so that it was evident she has been around the block and earned the right to talk on this topic.  She capitalized on the fact that one of her biggest fans was in her audience by looking to him to chime in when she thought he could add value.  She entertained questions with an open mind, holding her ground where she needed to and graciously accepting suggestions and new ideas.

I walked away feeling great, and to many kudos.  My subject wasn’t particularly interesting, it wasn’t something everyone necessarily wanted to hear about, but I generated a buzz anyway.  It couldn’t have been any more evident how much my strategy paid off, then when the presenter who immediately followed me lost his audience, stumbling through a lackluster soliloquy. The capstone on the debacle had me wincing in my seat when he asked “Does that make sense?” and no one answered because we hadn’t been listening. The hook came out shortly thereafter.

We all own our presence, a reputation, maybe even a following.  Behaving in a manner that aligns with the stature we’ve achieved can be tough to gauge and feel like a daunting obligation.  Good thing there is also a powerful benefit to go along with it.  We can bank on the creditability and esteem we’ve accumulated and harness the power to fuel our confidence.  The people who saw my presentation walked away with the imprint that I wanted to impress upon them.  Next time I present, they’ll know they’re in for something good.  And they’ll tell two friends.  And so on, and so on. . . 

A while back I dragged my kids to a picnic, a rare work-related weekend event. Upon being introduced to my boys, a woman on my team proceeded to say “Your mom could take me.”   The statement puzzled me for quite some time.  I’m not large in physical stature. Nor do I walk around carrying a big stick.  I now realize her assessment was probably more about my direct approach to solving issues and my unwavering commitment to stand my ground when it really matters.

That certain “je ne sais quoi” may be elusive but it speaks volumes.  Who are you putting out there?