Do I Know You?

I was recently on vacation with some friends in Jamaica, where we took some amazing tennis lessons at an all-inclusive resort.

We worked with a number of different coaches, but a visiting pro named Anni was the one leading our daily clinics. She has taught tennis around the world—both on the tour and off.

And for some odd reason, about a day in to our visit, Anni decided I was a consistent and patient player.

She must have seen me complete one drill where I happened to be focused and wasn’t thinking about anything else (remember, I was on vacation). Anni pronounced, “It’s clear that Kellie must drive her opponents crazy just keeping the ball in play.”

What? When she said this, I thought, “Uh—no! That’s not me at all! I am completely inconsistent!”

Thousands of times I have faced an approach shot or perfect opportunities for a volley, and I run toward the ball like a crazy woman, go for some stupid angle or try to do too much. And I dump the ball into the net or hit it out.

Or my mind is on lunch or work or my son or anything other than tennis while I'm hitting groundstrokes on the court. I am flat-footed, I hit the ball late or too hard, and it goes out.

So, while I'm hearing this, I am thinking, “You’re wrong! That’s not me, Anni!”

But all week long, she continued to collect evidence that supported her theory of my game. That’s what our brains do: It's called confirmation bias. This is the tendency we have to seek out, interpret, and remember information that aligns with our pre-existing beliefs.

Anni noticed when I kept balls in play. She saw when I rallied back and forth and didn't make many errors. She was always watching when I would choose a smart, patient shot over trying to blow my opponent out of the water.

And when I didn’t, she wasn’t looking—or seeing it.

All week long, I kept thinking, “She’ll figure out soon that I am not consistent. I am not patient. I do not drive others crazy with my ability to keep the ball in play. In fact, I drive myself crazy with errors!

I wanted to correct her. Just like anyone would. When someone sees something in you that you do not believe is true, the tendency is to want to correct them, show them the real you.

Has anyone ever said to you, “You’re so creative!” Or “You’re so smart!” Or “You’re such a good parent!” And in your mind, you think, “No, I’m not!”

Instead of aligning with that vision or possibility of who you can be, you want to prove to others who you really are.

We had only five days with Anni. One day, I had to go get a COVID test during the clinic. So I actually ran out of the opportunity to show her the real me. Anni left the resort with her vision of my potential intact.

I may send her an email just to make sure she gets the point.

But what if instead I let her hold that belief in me—that space for what could be, and I work on growing into it?

As a coach myself, I often have this experience—I may see a client is brilliant, creative, or a strong leader. And yet the client themselves don’t see it at all. As I hold a mirror up to them again and again, they try to convince me otherwise.

“I’m not organized at all,” they say. “I’m a terrible leader.” And yet again and again they demonstrate some aspect of leadership.

And yet while I was off in the Caribbean far away from my real life, I decided this can be the most amazing thing: To have someone hold a vision of the best of who you are—or who you might become.

I even started thinking, “Maybe I can be that tennis player. I'm going to practice this new vision of myself and next time I pick up a racquet, I’ll work on playing that vision out."

Maybe I'll be more consistent. Just maybe.

We will see what happens, Anni.