Do You Need A Mentor To Succeed?

After graduating college and jumping into my first job as a Publicity Assistant at a local television station, I nurtured a blooming fantasy about one thing that was going to make or break my career. I dreamt up a mentor and together we moved mountains, broke glass ceilings and built up my confidence to a point where I was simply unstoppable.

She was the model of success I wanted to create for myself.

We met once a month to discuss my career evolution.

She weighed in on colossal decisions, providing counsel on how best to move forward.

She nudged me, pushed me farther than I thought I could go, and always kept my career path and my success top of mind.

The first ten years of my career exploded, and I rode the wave of my growing abilities and a changing industry. While I had inspiring bosses who cheered me on for a period of time and conversations with colleagues who saw something special in me and were candid about their own stories to help me learn from their experiences, I never found that one person I hoped would save me from whatever stuckness I stepped into along my path.

And I did get stuck for several years. I knew I needed a change but could not see a way forward. I blamed my mentor for not showing up to perform her duties and myself for not being able to find her.

Then, through a confluence of life events like a milestone birthday, a close friend imparting wisdom as he died of ALS and my growing bandwidth as my daughters moved out of baby neediness, I grew a visceral understanding that…

The only person responsible for my life and my career is me. Nobody is going to save me from the unhappiness, the missed opportunities, the stuckness. My Fairy Mentor Mother may not come.

Or perhaps she already has, but she looks different than expected…

We might just meet once a year or every two years, or maybe we only ever met once, but the conversation had a tremendous impact on me.

She may have been ten years younger than me, but offered me the right brilliance at the right time.

She may be a friend who is sometimes one chapter ahead and sometimes needing my support.

She may be a writer, a podcaster or Oprah.

She may be a he.

What I know now and wish I knew then is that I can find inspiration from anyone and anything. It’s up to me to be open to receiving these messages, taking them to heart and putting them into action. I can break out of the rigid mentor lore I painted in my mind so that I can have mentoring conversations when I least expect them or several times a week instead of only once a month. What a better deal for me and less pressure and time for all of my people. And I have so many people who step up to be there for me in the moments I need them. They don’t need titles to help me move mountains, break glass ceilings or build up my confidence to make me unstoppable. Love, gratitude, respect and taking a turn on the upside of the mentoring see-saw make us feel whole.

What To Do When You Don't Get The Job

Sometimes after four interviews with seven different people, a presentation you spent a three-day weekend slaving over, a barrage of compliments that inflate your confidence toward only one outcome—you don’t get the job. You feel like you were thrown off a cliff, robbed of the future you were promised.

When this happens, I work with clients to acknowledge all they’re feeling.

Rejection: Why didn’t they want me?

Despair: I’m never going to find something as perfect as that role.

Anger: If they didn’t want me, why do they keep using all of the ideas I shared with them? (Side note: Employers, please stop using candidates ideas. And candidates, know that if you share your ideas, employers who may not choose you, may choose your ideas. I like to file this under the "not illegal, but very uncool" category of hiring tactics.)

Once you are one with your feelings, here are some ways you can get your mojo back in your search and in your career.

1. Reframe the loss
Just like finding the right partner, finding the right job is about fit. If you didn’t get the role, there was something that you have yet to uncover that didn’t make you a fit. It could be something on their end that they know about and you don’t, or something they’ve known about you all along that suddenly becomes important. In order for you to move on, it’s critical for you to know that it’s not that you’re not right for any role, rather you’re not right for that role. Your opportunity is out there waiting for you.

2. Ask for feedback
Once they let you know that you didn’t get the role, you can ask them for feedback that might be helpful as you continue your search. While hiring managers and recruiters give feedback a small percentage of the time, when you do get it, it can provide incredibly useful nuggets you can use to tweak your search or better understand how you can talk about the gaps in your experience. It can help you both learn how to do better next time AND clarify their decision-making process for going with someone else. Often times it makes the decision a lot more clear-cut when you realize, "It’s true, I don’t have that experience and if they’re looking for someone who’s done that, I wouldn’t have succeeded in that role."

3. Do a debrief of your performance
There is no perfect interview performance because there is no perfect human. Of course you did well enough to make it through several rounds of interviews, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing you could have done better. Give yourself some time to think through the answers where you may have stumbled or the points at which you talked and talked simply to fill the uncomfortable space. Or perhaps there was a point you went negative on a topic you had on your "Don’t mention these things" list. Make a list of areas you can improve and then spend some time tightening up responses—reframing topics that prompted you to unearth the skeletons—even if it’s simply fine-tuning. This is your chance to learn and take your interview skills to the next level.

4. Distill the essence of what you loved, seek it elsewhere
Go beyond the obvious to better understand what ignited you about that specific role or project. What do you really want that you thought this position could provide? Once you make a list of things that drew you like a magnet to this opportunity, realize that this job was one way of many to get you to those things. This list is your new set of marching orders for the next role you’re going to find. What are similar companies or industries where you may be able to look for a role with these things? It’s like having that great date with someone you know is not the one for you—but he or she helps you realize that this feeling and this person is out there for you and the trail of clues have been left for you to crack the case.

No matter how many times you go through this process of pulling yourself up, the rejection hurts. If you use career transitions and job searches as ways to validate your fears, insecurities and beliefs that the world is conspiring against you—you will find evidence to support all of these claims. And on the flip-side, if you realize they are opportunities to grow, to learn, to expand, and to try things that are outside of what feels comfortable and safe, you will find momentum and build that resilience muscle—capable of driving your success in parts of your life far beyond the scope of your career.

What's Your Time Worth To You?

As a mom of a ten-year-old attending New York City public schools, I’ve joined the thousands of fellow NYC parents in navigating the middle school process to determine my daughter’s school for next year. For those in the burbs following along—no, there isn’t a middle school that she can just go to based on where she lives. There are in some parts of the city—but not ours. And so many of us attend 10 – 15 tours that are 2 hours each over a 2 month period, so we can rank 12 schools on our list in early December. I’ve decided 13 will be the lucky number of tours for our family and I will be attending 12 of those 13. Yes, mathematicians, I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. That’s a lot of f’ing time.

I gave our daughter Jane the option to join or not, and so far, she’s gone to nearly all of the tours on our list. One week into the process, we had tours for three nights straight—which for Jane meant grabbing dinner on the go and doing homework past her normal bedtime. On the third night, directly after school, chorus and Hebrew School—we walked over to the 6:30 tour, which was one block from our home. We were led into a packed auditorium that was filled to the balconies with tired parents and cranky kids. The principal began speaking about the middle school process and what she thinks about it. She went on for 20 precious minutes. I could feel the anger bubbling up as I thought, "I’m halfway through the process. If I don’t know about it by now, I’m in trouble. And after a long day with a tired kid, just tell me about your school so we can all go home and do what we need to do."

I felt myself stewing in resentment and then Jane turned to me and insisted, "Mom, THIS is a waste of my time. I want to go home."

We were in lockstep. I told her I would stay and let her know what she missed. She stood up in the auditorium packed with hundreds, including many of our friends and neighbors, while the principal continued in a flurry of irrelevance. She walked out and returned home.

My guess is that many parents would have been embarrassed in that moment—cringing at her every footstep and the bulky door crashing behind her—but pride washed over me. She gets it. At ten, she understands that her time and energy have meaning. They have value. And she respects her time enough to do what felt uncomfortable and perhaps against the rules to honor her self and her worth. Yes, tween girl feminist parenting win!

This moment stuck out to me more than most because I see many of my female clients struggle to value their time. They find themselves in overwhelm in their families or stuck in careers with no idea where to go next because they have no time to make a search—or themselves a priority.

Here are a few ways we work together to reclaim their value and their time:

1. Reframe
A wise coach recently asked me, "In the face of all of these time-consuming middle school tours, what can you celebrate about this time?" The answer was clear—more time with my daughter and a chance for us to work on a project together. Once I changed my view of the process, I have been—dare I say—having fun being with her and exploring new neighborhoods and possibilities. How can you look at the time you’re spending on things that seem like obligations in a way that truly enriches your life and helps you continue to learn?

2. Connect to your values
If you have not yet taken the time to choose your values, define what they mean to you and use them as a compass to drive your life decisions, know that this is a critical step toward helping you better value your worth and your time. If you have done this in the past, go through the exercise again to make sure that the values you choose speak to your life right now. Life happens and what was once unimportant to you—for example—before 2016, may be life altering now. I review everything on my calendar once a month to make sure my appointments are laddering up to my values. Read more about this in 5 Ways I Use My Values To Guide My Life.

3. Question cultural and gender norms
When I go to these middle school tours it’s hard not to notice that 90% of the parents in attendance are moms. It makes me angry and yet, there I am, the one in the family actively choosing to wrangle this process. My case may be slightly different in that I set my own hours, have a more flexible schedule and have reframed the process so I get something out of it—but it doesn’t make me less pissed off that as women and mothers, we continue to carry the administrative load of the household, what I like to call, "The Third Job." These are ongoing conversations in my home and I’m lucky to have a partner who works with me to challenge these assumptions. It’s not a given that because I’m the mom I’m going to take on all of this extra work to keep the family afloat. And if I do take this on, we work out what he can do to take something else off my plate—so that I can still fit in the things that are important in my work and my life.

In doing the leadership work I do with women, especially in what’s being called "The Year Of The Woman", I often feel the pressure to be a shining model of equity and to have this all figured out in my work, in my parenting and in my marriage. I often remind myself of what I say to clients, which is, "That added pressure is NOT helping you move forward or learn." We’re so hard on ourselves! The truth is that with 44 years’ experience in this culture, where in subtle and not so subtle ways a woman’s time and value are de-prioritized, I’m still in the process of figuring out how I can change what I ask for and how I ask for it while also inspiring others to do the same. I notice how my daughters are learning to do it differently—and how even the shortest, seemingly inconsequential moment can foreshadow the broadest impact. We simply need to notice it and step into the possibility it leaves wide open for us to acknowledge and spread the word.

Ways To Manage The Sandwich Generation Squeeze

During a naïve moment in the fall of 2016, I remember saying to my sister, "I’ve been talking to so many of my friends who are struggling with their parents’ ailments and I realized that’s one thing that won’t be part of our experience since our parents died when we were young." At the time, I had a narrow view of what defines a family caregiver and how someone steps into that role. A few short months later, my spry, healthy, beloved aunt had a stroke and then passed away after what seemed like the longest 80 days of our lives. My uncle who has Parkinson’s was left without his love and his minute-to-minute caregiver. My sister and I stepped in and I was the local one on the ground.

While also mourning, my first reaction to my new role was an unattractive combination of resentment and panic. I had two children, a new-ish business that I was still figuring out and many financial responsibilities. Plus, I wanted to do the best by my uncle and I truly had no clue how to manage his disease. The learning curve would be steep.

How was I going to take this on?
How was I going to do it at the level to which my aunt would approve?
How was I going to still give my kids what they needed?
How was I going to give my uncle what he needed with the little time I had?

Then I came out of my tizzy and realized I’ve accomplished amazing things in my life and can absolutely do this.

It may be messy.
The business will grow at a slower pace.
The kids will be bribed with ice cream to come on caregiving visits.

But this IS possible.

Here are the things I did to move out of overwhelm and into a rhythm that is working for everyone involved.

1. Get realistic about what you can do
In the period after my aunt’s stroke, I was visiting twice a week at least, which meant I was taking one or more week days off to be with my aunt and uncle. This took a serious toll on my business and I knew it wasn’t sustainable long-term. Also, my kids were beginning to truly miss me on weekends and if we brought them along, they became jealous of how much time I was spending with my uncle instead of with them. After my aunt passed, I knew I would need to be in touch more on the phone rather than being in-person as often. I still often feel pangs of guilt if I haven’t visited in a few weeks, but I know I’m doing the best I can.

2. Call in the experts
We knew my uncle would need home care as soon as my aunt had her stroke, so we made sure he was well cared for with the right people in place. Then, we hired a Geriatric Care Manager to help us coordinate and communicate with all of the doctors and the home care agency. It was a huge relief to know that we had someone on our team who knew all of the players, had done all of this work before and was one point of contact for everyone involved. While at first I wasn’t sure about adding this expense, I quickly realized that 1) she did a better and faster job of this work than I could ever do, so it was not as costly as I expected and 2) we could go back to being nieces and family support which is what everyone wanted. Now, since we’re also in the process of downsizing his home, we brought in a professional organizing team for reinforcements. I’m still on the ground doing a lot of work, but it’s helpful to know I don’t need to completely exhaust myself during this process and can get the help I need.

3. Ask for help
If you’re that person who is always helping others, now is the time when it’s OK to ask for help. My wonderful neighbors, friends and family have been a tremendous help in watching my kids—and now the puppy—while I take care of the things I need to do for my uncle. Also, it’s OK for you not to do it all. Ask other family members or friends of the family where they may be able to pitch in. They may not be able to take anything on—and that’s OK—but you won’t know unless you ask.

4. Put your (oxygen) mask on first
When you’re navigating everyone else’s priorities, make sure self-care is somewhere near the top of your list. You’re going to need energy to pull all of this off. If you need to take a walk in the park or finish writing your article before returning a phone call to the Geriatric Care Manager, do it. You know you will get it all done, but your refuel time is necessary to doing just that. Sometimes self-care means setting boundaries as well. I’m currently touring 13 middle schools with my 10-year-old, so on those weeks where I feel like I’m going to combust with logistics, I tell my uncle and everyone in his world I’m going to be out of touch this week.

5. Look for the lesson
As I hear from clients and friends, caregiving can include many, "Why me?" moments. Moments where we look around and say, "Can the real grownups stand up and take care of all of this for me?" It’s at these times where I take that question to a deeper level. Truly, why me? What am I meant to learn right now? How can this experience change me as a person? As a niece, a mom, a wife, a coach and a friend, I have now become a resource for many who are going through a crisis with their aging parents. When I can make an impact on others’ lives with the knowledge I’ve picked up along the way, it reminds me that part of the lesson is that this is not just about me. There is a world of people going through this who think they are alone right now and they’re not. You’re not. There are ways we can figure this out together.

Even with all of these learning moments, there are times where the needs kick up a level again and I find myself back in overwhelm. It’s at these times when I remember, "this is temporary" and I can tone down some of what I’m doing on other fronts. I can scale back on the business for a month or so and say no to more social events that aren’t my highest priority. But what I won’t do is use these busy caregiving times as a reason to say, "This is impossible." Or, "I’m never going to have the chance to focus on my business." It’s not. I will and I am. I know that this is part of what I’m both meant to learn and meant to teach, and often the lesson is in doing it in a way that still feels like me.