Chip On My Shoulder

About 11 years ago, right at the beginning of the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, I began a financial planning and investment management practice. Giving up a six figure income and beginning this new venture from scratch out of a downstairs bedroom, I invited plenty of criticism and confusion from friends and family. I also was ignored by professionals in the industry as I sought their guidance. I felt like they thought I was some punk kid who wouldn’t last, especially as the recession wore on and investor confidence dwindled. Even partnering organizations seemed to ignore me.

I quickly developed a chip on my shoulder. I wanted to prove all my doubters wrong. But my intent was not to tell them, “I told you so.” My desire was to succeed in such a way that I wouldn’t have to say anything at all. That my actions would show them they misjudged me. I wanted my drive and determination to say everything.

However, building my practice was more difficult than I could have imagined, especially in that environment.  With the economy melting down, no one wanted to invest, much less entrust what was left of their life savings to some new guy. Selling rain boots in the desert may have been easier. Trying to disprove doubters began to feel like walking a tightrope with bitterness on one side and self-pity on the other. Then I started to doubt myself. Maybe they were right? Should I just go get a “real job”?

But there was one person in my industry who believed in me, often times more than I believed in myself. He painted a picture of the practice he knew I could build, the success he predicted I would have, the lives I would change for others and the life for my family I would be able to create. Then he would usually throw out some income number that seemed preposterous. Because he had been pretty much retired for several years, I would sometimes discount his encouragement, thinking he was just “disconnected” from the current business environment.

Even when the well-intentioned pep talks from this man seemed to be fantasies to me, I couldn’t ignore them. You see, that man was my father. Though I often struggled to believe in what he saw in me, I found myself less and less concerned with proving others wrong. I stopped caring about what the naysayers thought. It became more important to deliver what my dad saw me capable of doing. I didn’t want to let him down. It was no longer about proving doubters wrong; I wanted to prove my father right.

I learned I will always have doubters. There will always be people who don’t believe in me, my methods or my mission. I can try to prove them all wrong, but it’s exhausting because even if I prove all my doubters wrong, there will be new ones at the next level. While disproving skeptics and the chip on my shoulder did provide a spark of motivation, it was all external and it wouldn’t last. Trying to prove my dad right was far more powerful. Instead of a chip on my shoulder, it was a fire in my heart that drove me on. I could not quit because I needed to ensure his confidence in me would be vindicated.

You will always have plenty of people in your life who don’t see your vision or hear your calling. They won’t believe in you or what you are doing. You can prove them all wrong, but then there will be more. Ignore the cynics. Instead, find the few people in your life who understand your mission and have the confidence in you to execute it. Then, with all the drive and determination you can muster, go prove them right.

Dad, thank you for believing in me. Once again, you were right.