In my previous post, I wrote about the “Advice Monster,” and the temptation for managers and coaches to go into directing rather than listening mode when working with a colleague or client. This happens when we’re convinced we have the right solution to a problem or know exactly the right next step for someone to take (note that our conviction doesn’t necessarily reflect reality!). Instead of helping the person think through the solutions or next steps–and increase their chances of learning from the situation–we jump in and give orders.
When we do this as managers, we often think we are being helpful–and in some cases we might be. There are times when we need to give direction and explain what we think the answer to a problem is and why. If you have more relevant experience than a coworker or if you’re working on a tight deadline, sometimes the best thing to do is make decisions and help others execute. Learning and development need to come after the crisis passes or the project ends.
(Coaches should only show up in this way if their client asks them too; otherwise the coach is not actually coaching–they’ve put on their consulting or boss hat and aren’t serving their client well.)
There are many reasons why we might show up in a directing (and, let’s be honest: a know-it-all) way even when the circumstances don’t warrant it–and I alluded to one driving force in that previous post. It’s specific to gay men who were raised in climates or cultures that were hostile to people who were LGBTQ. These conditions not only prevented them from being themselves (going deeply into the closet, often literally for the sake of their survival or at least their basic physical safety), but also taught them that they are deeply flawed and damaged human beings.
That latter bit causes some (perhaps many; it’s not an easy thing to measure) gay boys and young men to loathe themselves and conclude that they are unworthy of love and respect from the people closest to them.
One response to these feelings and beliefs is for these boys and young men to go to extreme measures to prove themselves to the people around them, and to do everything they can to become the best at anything and everything: academics, sports, student government, hobbies, household chores, even providing family and friends with emotional support. We want to show people–and convince ourselves–that we are useful and therefore worthy of love and acceptance. And, the theory goes, if we prove ourselves as indispensable and super competent, people might not notice we’re gay or perhaps they’ll overlook that fact once they find out.
This behavior is our way of trying to make sure we aren’t rejected when we can no longer hide who we are. In our minds, it is absolutely worth working ourselves to exhaustion and beating ourselves up if we make a mistake–we think our lives are at stake so we are compelled to always do better and more.
This need for belonging is hard-wired in human beings, since our survival depends on social connections, especially when we are very young. And if your society or culture forces you to behave this way for years, the pattern will be hard to break even once you realize it no longer serves you as an adult.
Informally, I’ve seen people refer to this phenomenon as “Best Little Boy in the World Syndrome” (or BLBWS) named after the best-selling book by Andrew Tobias.
I recognize this tendency in myself, as well as the many LGBTQ individuals I’ve mentored, managed, coached, and worked with over the years (and having done LGBTQ equality work for almost a decade means I have worked with more LGBTQ people than the average person). What on the surface looks like a bossy know-it-all is often a deeply scared person who hasn’t yet dealt with these wounds. It doesn’t excuse their (our!) behavior, but it does help explain it.
Most important is that once a person recognizes and understands this behavior and its origins, there’s a chance they can work on minimizing it and getting more discerning about how and when to deploy it.
A few caveats. First, I recognize that I am generalizing a bit here, but I’m doing so based on my experience. Second, I know that this desire to prove ourselves as indispensable and brilliant is not unique to gay men or LGBTQ people broadly. People from many other backgrounds and identities show up this way, often because of their own experiences of being devalued or threatened by their community or society generally. Third, as LGBTQ equality and acceptance expand, these adjustments and adaptations should lessen. Which is one of the many reasons why right-wing attacks on trans kids are so devastating. This type of large-scale rejection does real harm in ways visible and invisible, immediate and long-term.
Finally, I know more than a few gay men and LGBTQ people who, instead of showing up assertive and bossy, actually suppress their talents and know-how because they don’t want to be seen as arrogant or otherwise unlikable. And, you might have guessed, the reason why they show up this way is because they too were at one point terrified kids who hid themselves deeply in the closet. But instead of trying to outperform and outshine their peers to gain love and acceptance, they retreated inward to hide and not get noticed. Not rocking the boat was their brain’s way of keeping them safe in those dangerous circumstances. As adults, they often become people pleasers who have a hard time saying “no” to people or expressing what they actually want or need.
And many of us who grew up in the closet in hostile places demonstrate both types of behavior, oscillating from one extreme to the other and then back again.
It’s not easy, but the results are worth it. I speak from experience!
Such an insightful post! While I can see a few examples of BLBWS in my past, I've mostly been (and sometimes still am) a Suppressor. It's taken a lot of effort to get past it, and now I'm much more comfortable letting my freak flag fly, so to speak. 😁