Your superhero origin story and the pain that made you great
Understand, embrace, and transcend your darkness
Every super hero has an origin story, a tale that explains the source of their greatness. Inevitably, it is a story that also gradually reveals his weaknesses, darknesses, and inner tortures. You have such a story, too.
Bruce Wayne became the troubled law-enforcing Batman only after experiencing the horror of a childhood in which he was powerless to prevent his parents’ murder. Equal parts light (he protects citizens) and darkness (but is remorseless, violent and vengeful) Batman’s story is one of transformation and constant internal struggle.
And of course, Superman wouldn’t even have been “super” on his home planet, Krypton, where he would just have been ordinary. Only here, on Earth, where his powers are extraordinary, would he become exceptional. His parents sent him away from doomed planet Krypton in a desperate act to save his life. Kent would live a life in hiding on Earth - unable to show his true self and in many ways alone — without anyone else like himself. Ironically, Kent could only be destroyed by Kryptonite - material from his home planet. Not only was he homeless, what was left of his home, should he ever encounter it, would literally destroy him.
You have an origin story, too I’d wager. Most every great salesperson I’ve known has had some set of circumstances that drove her life to be something extraordinary. A transforming experience that made her unique, gave her a hard push to be great, yet left debris, residue, and side effects that also warped her life. A jarring shove that resulted in greatness paired with struggle. Motivational Sales Speaker, the late Zig Zigler, once said that every great salesperson he met was “just a little bit off.” Are you great and also just a little bit off, too?
What is your origin story? What were the events that gave you not only your super powers that are responsible for your shining success, but also dealt you the dark cards, that complicate your life — things you would be better off without?
Walter worked as a senior program manager for a telecommunications giant. He was responsible for winning new business. We were working on a project together and he was amazing. He had a stunning ability to persuade and communicate in writing. Walt’s proposals and written presentations were precision guided missiles that always hit their targets. His portfolio of winning projects was the best of the best - clients loved his work. Yet, when you talked with Walt, you could immediately see his deepest frustration. Walt had a pronounced stutter. The higher the stakes or greater the emotion he felt, the more of a challenge it posed for him. In the heat of the moment, he might get stuck on a single word, stuttering a lone syllable for many long seconds. His stutter had affected his entire life. As a child, peers were merciless with him. Walt learned to use humor to deflect their barbs. He learned how vital it was to influence others and developed incredible written communication and persuasion skills. He never overcame his stutter, but he overwhelmingly compensated for it and became as successful as anyone I’ve ever met.
Walt focused his frustration, high initiative and intelligence on using everything he could do to create more of what he wanted in his life. Have Walt leading your proposal team? Get ready, because you can take it to the bank that he’s going to win — this contract is going to be coming in the door. Yet you could see when talking with him, how much it still hurt Walt - the frustration in his eyes - that his stutter was in the way every time he talked. Talking was so expensive for him, Walt worked hard to make sure every word always counted.
Would Walt have developed those deep skills and demonstrated accomplishment without having to live with his stutter? I don’t know, but Walt was one of the best salespeople I’ve ever known.
From the earliest time I could remember — maybe around 4 years old — I was terrified that my mother was going to die. My mom, an adopted child, was raised in a way that made her question whether she was really wanted or loved by her parents. She constantly questioned her own self-worth. She married my Dad and they moved away from her beloved city life, (San Francisco, New York had both been “home” for her) moving to rural Ohio with my Dad. But of course, when you run, you never escape what is carried inside you. Mom started having physical manifestations of her issues. Pain, headaches— bubbled up constantly, incurably, for years. This caused her to see an ever-growing litany of doctors, specialists, and surgeons and to be hospitalized many times during my childhood. Prior to each hospital visit would be the hushed conversations between her and Dad about the procedure to be performed or surgery, its inherent risks and chances of death. I remember hearing things like “Only 20% chance of death on this surgery.”
It was absolutely terrifying. Trying to face that overwhelming fear of losing Mom, I remember going into the kitchen, learning to cook eggs at 5 years old, thinking if she didn’t come back, I could at least have something to eat.
The 5 year old me also tried to figure out how to make Mom better. Maybe I could figure out her mood. Maybe I could say or do something to make her better. Make her happy. Maybe if I was good enough she’ll get better. In hindsight, it’s ludicrous to consider a 5 year old as responsible for making his Mom better. But that is how a very young me dealt with an overwhelming, terrifyingly helpless situation over years of this extended torture.
And so throughout my childhood, I learned to carefully assess, watch, and react. I paid close attention to every nuance of adults’ expressions. I learned to read people and sense what they needed. I figured out how to provide to them with what I “read” that they wanted. By the time I reached adulthood, for me, walking into a crowded room was a flood of sensations. Who is upset with whom. Who was fawning for whose attention? What is annoying that person? Who is in charge here and what do they need? After growing up in my warped household, reading people was almost effortless. It became a key tool of my career in working to serve others.
But it also came at a terrible cost, as I was so focused on what I thought others needed that I never came to grips with who I was and what I wanted. I pushed that down, even denying that I wanted what I wanted. Eventually, I gained some insight and learned to express myself, ask for what I wanted, and not just to focus on pleasing others. But the cost was so great for so long.
Would I have dialed into people and learned to read them so well without worrying about my mother’s survival? I doubt it. Insight into people gave me a great career. But it also has taken quite a while to move beyond that first reaction of wanting to please others by denying who I am. And even now, it is a struggle I still engage.
What makes you great and where did that super power come from? What has been the cost — the dark side — of your super power? Remember that super heroes are great not just because of their super power, but because of their fight with the darkness that comes with that power. Like your superhero, I’d remind you that this fight — with your darkness — is the real story of your life and it is the fight people will remember and tell tell about you long after you’re gone.
The title hooked me here!! This is awesome!