Embracing Disappointment

Stephen Robinson Embracing Disappointment

Embracing Disappointment

When I was 5 or 6, I was running around our tiny apartment in the projects. I jumped off my bed, tripped and hit my head causing a large knot. My brother picked me up, wiped away my tears, laughed and said, “You’ve gained a knowledge bump! Now you know not to do that again.”

Embrace Disappointment as a Steppingstone to Success

One of my favorite rules in my Book of Rules is one that I made up in a job interview. The interviewer, towards the end of the interview, said, “You’re a glass is half-full kind of guy, aren’t you?” After a moment of thought, I said, “I’m a glass is full guy. Half is water and the other half is air. We need them both to live and grow.”

We tend to think of growth as coming from affirmative moments, great achievements, and positive reinforcement. It can. But growth can just as often come from embracing the negative and learning from it.

I believe that abilities and intelligence can be developed even in the most difficult moments. It’s about seeing challenges and disappointments as opportunities for progress, evolution, and growth.

Adopting this mindset has allowed me to embrace disappointment as a steppingstone to success.

Notice I always say disappointment and not failure.

I had to teach myself to see disappointment as part of the process, as a part of my growth. Now, when disappointment strikes, I see it as an opportunity for improvement. I dissect why and how I did not achieve my goal and view my mistakes as my knowledge bumps, never to be repeated.

This mindset was tested at the very beginning of my legal career.

After the first year at my law firm, I was excited for my year-end review. After all, I had worked hard and had been largely praised for my work.

 The partner giving me my review began our conversation by asking, “What kind of lawyer do you want to be?”

“I want to be a great litigator,” I said, thinking I had nailed the question.

“Well, you are not on your way to that!” he emphatically replied.

 Did he just say, NOT on my way to that?

This partner then proceeded to rip apart my work for the next 20 minutes. At one point he pulled out a memo I had written and dismissively flung it across the desk at me. The papers hit me in the chest and fell to the floor. I looked down and saw my seemingly brilliant legal analysis covered in a sea of red ink.

When this review was over, he finally dismissed me. I slowly trudged back to my office. I was supposed to join the other associates for drinks in a celebration of promotions, bonuses and raises. But celebrating was not on my mind.

All I could think about was how unfair this was. Others whose work seemed no stronger than mine had received enthusiastic reviews from this same partner.

During the year, the partners that I worked with had never expressed any significant concerns about my performance. Yes, there were comments on how to improve and things for me to learn. But they never indicated anything to prepare me for the disemboweling I received from the reviewing partner’s blade.

Surely this was about my race given that I was the first Black person ever hired at the firm in what I understood to be a much-debated decision by the partnership. It seemed clear that this partner held a grudge that had more to do with my color than it did with my work.

Clearly, I thought to myself, this was one partner who didn’t want me at the firm.

But after reading his comments on my memo, I had to admit, his points did make my writing better. Much better. A week later I returned to the partner’s office. I told him that I reviewed his comments and had one question. He shrugged and leaned forward with a look of semi-interest on his face. I swallowed hard, then asked, “Will you help me?” After what felt like hours, he smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

That year, I gave him a draft of many of my assignments 48 hours before they were due, often working into the early morning hours to meet that deadline. We would talk about my work, and he would give me feedback. Then I set about making it better. That year I learned more about writing than I had in all my years of education. I was on my way to becoming a better lawyer.

Later, when I lost my first trial as an Assistant U.S. Attorney, I spent some time absorbing that devastation. Then I set about making that devastation a knowledge bump. I visited the judge in his chambers and asked for tips for improvement. I chatted with the defense attorney and asked how I could have done a better job. I decided in those moments that I would never lose another trial.

Resilience is Essential

Those episodes (and others) affirmed for me that resilience is essential. In my view, resilience is often a function of what you tell yourself about the disappointment, not the actual disappointment itself. It is hard to bounce back when you tell yourself that you are stupid or a failure or not worthy. I never do that. Instead, I count my disappointment as a knowledge bump and take concrete steps to get better.

It is also hard to bounce back when you focus on other people’s motivations – real or imagined. I am neither equipped nor have the time or energy to fix what is going on in another people’s heads. If I focus on that, my ability to bounce back depends on whether they grow or change. I focus on what they can do to help me. I would rather they hate me and help me, than love me and do nothing. Whether I grow doesn’t depend on their motivations. It depends on what I do next.

Here’s the thing, if you define disappointment with this mindset, you liberate yourself and make it easier to bounce back. You become almost grateful for the setback. That setback gives you an opportunity to see the holes in your game. That allows you to fix them and grow. You can survive and thrive with your new knowledge bump.

Make each setback a gateway to progress. Then turn each disappointment into a steppingstone to success.