Print This Post“Don’t take it personally” – the words I have been told time and time again when faced with a harsh piece of feedback. These words often comes from a place of care and experience. The intuition that I need to separate my personal worth, from the value I implicitly attach to my work. An intuition that is correct, but incredibly difficult to implement.
When I was in college, I have vivid memories of leaving classrooms in tears after receiving a dreaded B grade. I now look back on those memories with an equal mixture of compassion and contempt. I needed to toughen up. I needed to not take things so personally. When I was in my undergraduate course, I laughed when I got an essay back reading: “well, on the bright side, there’s plenty to improve”. I was so happy that I found the humour in that feedback. It felt automatic and was such a clear difference from my reaction to criticism just a few years before. I had toughened up. I had learned the secret ways of the academic. Except, of course, that I hadn’t. When I was in my master’s course, I got a 55 on an essay I had been proud of. It felt like someone had punched the air out of me. Every confidence I had in my academic ability was shattered. Perhaps toughening up was not enough on its own.
For me, it is impossible not to take criticism personally. No matter how detached I am from the work, because the work is still mine. And so an attack on my work is, by proxy, an attack on me. An attack on my ability, on my intelligence, and on my self-worth. So why, amidst a recent journal rejection that hurt like hell, was there still a part of me excited to receive those comments that dowsed my hopes of a high-impact publication? I’ll give you a clue; only half of the reason was not taking it personally.
There were three things that made those reviewer two comments easier to accept. The first is that I was (technically) on holiday when I opened the rejection email. The hot tub definitely helped, but what really did the trick was my family. Having people around to help ground me back in the reality that this one rejection does not define me, and will not define my career. It made it much easier to remember the big picture. And the truth is that remembering the big picture is one of the biggest ways I deal with pushbacks. Because when you accept your Nobel prize, this moment probably won’t even be a footnote. It might feel like the end of the world right now. But tomorrow will still bring new hopes and challenges.
Having a supportive network around you, makes it easier to paint that big picture when you’re busy fixating on the postage stamp of negativity.
This also extends to your academic support network. I think normalising our failures is a key way to making a healthy research environment. Every time my self-worth is knocked, my temptation is to hide down deep whatever it was that knocked me. I don’t want to tell anyone because then they’ll also see me as less. My worth will devalue not just in my eyes but in the eyes of the people I respect… this has actually never happened. In fact, telling my coworkers of the latest setback reminds me that they have them too. That for every success you see, there’s ten failures you don’t. And that applies even (or perhaps especially) to the researchers we look up to most.
A supportive network can help remind you that this bump in the road will not derail the journey – even if it’s a BIG one. But the truth is it’ll probably still hurt as you go over it. No-one’s suspension is perfect. Another key for me is letting myself wallow a little. I let myself take it personally for an hour, so that I can take it professionally from then on. I rant, I rave, I cry, I call said reviewer some names that cannot be repeated here. Then eventually, I don’t feel like I have to rant anymore. The comments have lost their sting and I when I go back to read them, I realise they actually aren’t that bad. Some of them are constructive – helpful ways to concretely improve my writing and my approach. Others are less helpful, but I feel better about those too. I can look at them more objectively and say: “I don’t agree with you”.
I deal with criticism as a logical academic, only after I’ve dealt with it as person.
And the final tip to maintaining self-worth? Revenge!
To be clear I am not endorsing any form of revenge on the lovely person who provided you feedback lately, unless that revenge is buying them a nice bar of chocolate. But they say that the best form of revenge is living well, and I think that applies here. It’s easy to avoid opportunities when self-worth is low – if you’re anything like me the desire to hide under duvets with a cup of tea becomes very enticing, no matter how impractical. But avoiding everything probably won’t help in the long run. And the truth is that next time, the feedback might be better. Or you’ll use this setback to motivate a new idea. Or you’ll find a new path that you hadn’t considered before. Don’t miss the new opportunities as you grieve the old ones.
So your self-worth has been shaken. Someone said something that made you question yourself and your abilities. Let’s amend the advice I’ve been told so many times.
Step 1: Take it personally. Let yourself emote if you need it. Let yourself wallow in self-pity for an hour. Then let family, friends, and coworkers remind you of the bigger picture and the fact that this setback is not as defining a moment as it currently feels.
Step 2: Don’t take it personally. Once you’ve acknowledged that personal response, it’s time to go back to cold hard academia. Get back on the horse and try not to avoid the next step in fear of another pushback.
And in amidst all this, remember your work-life balance. It’s a lot easier to contextualise work issues when there’s a wider context to put them in. Remember that just because you put the absolute best of yourself into what you do, doesn’t mean it’s all you are. No matter how much it may feel it at times. Even reviewer two goes home to their families at the end of the day. And because sometimes we all just need someone to tell us we’re doing a good job, I’ll finish by saying: YOU! Whoever you are reading or listening this and however you feel right now. You’re doing great. So please take a break, take a breathe, and if you have a hot tub… consider getting in it.
Rebecca Williams
Author
Rebecca Williams is a PhD student at the University of Cambridge. Though originally from ‘up North’ in a small town called Leigh, she did her undergraduate and masters at the University of Oxford before defecting to Cambridge for her doctorate researching Frontotemporal dementia and Apathy. She now spends her days collecting data from wonderful volunteers, and coding. Outside work, she plays board games, and is very crafty.
Dementia Researcher
Dr Kamar Ameen-Ali
Dr Emma Law
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