On pretending

Black white image of a guy

In 30 seconds:

  • Sometimes I start doing something for good reasons, but that then quickly switches to wanting to impress other people. Which then causes my actions to become misguided.

  • Why?

  • I think it’s because I wasn’t careful enough to make sure my priorities stayed the same.

  • And I think some environments make it more likely for my focus to switch.

Here’s something I noticed: Pretending doesn’t seem to work. I mean, when you read it like that, it sounds obvious, but still, people very often act as if that’s not obvious at all (including myself).

Whenever I am trying to be something other than what I am or when I’m trying to control something that isn’t mine to control, my actions seem to become misguided. They not only don’t accomplish what I wanted them to, but they often produce the exact opposite result.

Isn’t that a weird blind spot? Yes, I know we humans are imperfect. But it’s not like we never get things right. I’d say that in most cases where we want something, we are very capable of getting it.

For example, let’s say I’m hungry. I am completely capable of solving that problem. I check whether there is any food for me to eat in close proximity, and if not, I’ll make my way to the place where food is stored (also known as a supermarket). There, I help myself to some food, go home and eat it. Case closed.

And not to brag, but I also happen to be very proficient at other things, like getting myself dressed, walking from one place to another, and closing and opening doors.

So, then why do I struggle with effectively navigating social interactions so frequently? After all, I have been dealing with other people my whole life. Not only that, I even happen to be one of these mysterious “human beings” myself (or so I claim). Why then am I still so easily misguided in dealing with other people? Even when just talking about simple occurrences that happen day in, day out?

A common example

Let’s talk about an example first:

When I first started going to the gym, I was comparing myself a lot to the other people there. I looked at how much weight they lifted, at how big they were, and at how well I measured up (not well).

I specifically remember the first time I looked over and saw a guy bench pressing, “TWO of the big plates AND some little ones!” I couldn’t believe it. I did the math and figured out that he was benching 75, maybe even 80 kilos, “for REPS!” (about 165-176 lbs).

To me, that was very impressive. Unfortunately, I myself didn’t feel very impressive. I wanted to be impressive—but I didn’t feel like it.

I had heard a lot of cautionary tales of how using too much weight with bad form was going to get you injured, so I didn’t immediately try to max out every machine. But I did obsess over where the pin in the weight stack was. (For people who don’t frequent gyms: There is a pin you can put in the stack of weights of a machine that determines how heavy it is going to be.)

When I sat down at a machine, it was very important for me to know how much weight the guy before me had used. It was also very important for me to know how much weight I used; to me, these were the markers of my value as a lifter. The further down I could put the pin, the higher I regarded myself.

I imagined other people doing the same. When somebody sat down at a machine I had used, where I had been able to lift quite some weight (or so I thought), I imagined them going, “Wow, look at the weight he used! I’m really impressed.” And thinking that gave me a lot of satisfaction.

The funny thing is that my worrying about how much I could lift put my focus on the wrong things. Instead of learning better technique or enjoying the physical activity I was getting, I was just feeling dissatisfied a lot of the time.

And now speaking as a more experienced lifter, it resonated deeply with me when Jeff Nippard (a great fitness YouTuber) said, “When I see a new lifter in the gym, I’m way, way more impressed if they have a really nice technique than if they’re just throwing a bunch of weight around.”

I couldn’t agree more.

So, in the end, me wanting to impress other people (and myself) just shifted my focus to bad things and, if anything, had the opposite effect of what I wanted.

Which is absolutely fascinating to me. My focus changed only a little, yet the effects were drastic. As soon as my priority (without me really being aware of it) shifted to impressing other people, it infected all my actions. Suddenly they were guiding me down a completely wrong path.

How so? Well, at first, I wanted to try something new, become stronger, and learn new things. But then I let my insecurities take over the steering wheel. Instead of focusing on improving my technique, I focused on moving more and more weight (for which I had to compromise technique), instead of enjoying learning a new sport, I began to worry about not being good enough at it. I didn’t focus on the effort I put in or on being patient anymore; rather, I focused on the results I got and wanted immediate progress.

The change was subtle at first, but it’s like changing the course of a ship by a few degrees. In the beginning, you don’t see much difference, but after a while, you have strayed from your original path so much that it’s hard to comprehend.

Why are my actions guiding me down the wrong path? I think it’s because the game is rigged.
I mean, how can I win at impressing other people? If I try to, I’ll have to be who I think they want me to be. Which will lead to one of two things: Either I succeed at impressing them, or I don’t. But I lose either way. If they are impressed, it was not me who impressed them, it was the fake person I pretended to be who impressed them. That’s no good.
And if I didn’t impress them, I still betrayed my true self.

And what’s even worse, since I don’t consciously notice my priorities shifting, I don’t think to second-guess the game I’m playing. So I keep walking down the wrong path until I finally come to my senses.

Okay, enough doomy and gloomy talk. Let’s look at another example:

I like grappling. And now that I’ve been doing it for about two and a half years, I can look at beginners coming in with some perspective. And I noticed that the more nervous they are, the more they tend to want to convert that energy into movement. But since they are just starting out, they don’t know very many techniques yet. So they don’t know what to do with all that pent-up energy. Which often makes them do sudden, uncontrolled movements that can be dangerous for themselves or their training partner.

Especially when they are worried about not being good enough or people thinking less of them, they tend to overcompensate. If they are stressed, their movements tend to become frantic, they tense up, and it also makes them more likely to try and use brute force to get their way.

Yet, every experienced grappler will tell you that that is a great way to avoid becoming better. It is also a great strategy to ensure that people won’t want to spar with you. It is basically the exact opposite of what you want to be doing.

In general, the more experienced someone is, the slower and more controlled his movements become. In fact, I’ve rolled with a very light black belt who has been grappling for more than twenty years, and let me tell you, this guy is so relaxed and gentle, you’d think he was just waking up from a nap, not that I’ve been doing my best to strangle him for the past four minutes.

So, if you asked me about the best way to become a better grappler, I would suggest letting go of your ego and not trying to manhandle people. Instead, I would try to just focus on improving your technique and forget about quick results. Just be patient and learn, one baby step at a time.

I, for one, am always very impressed if a new guy manages to take it easy. And I’ll be much happier to spar with him again and teach him new things if he’s not always trying to rip my head off, especially if he doesn’t even have the correct technique to do it.

Take-home message

I have found that whenever I am trying to control things that aren’t mine to control, I’ll focus on the wrong actions, and in the end, I’ll get nowhere. If instead, I focus as much as possible on the things I can control and let go of the rest, it pays off in basically every way. I’ll still make mistakes, but the general direction I’m headed in will be right.

Focusing on the things I control also leads to:

  • Me putting more of my focus on the few basic elements that actually drive progress in the long run.

  • It makes me more patient because I am enjoying the process.

  • It makes me enjoy myself and others around me more.

  • It makes me more grateful.

As the Jiu-Jitsu saying goes, “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.” When I focus on the few things I do have total control over, I might only take a few steps, but they will be the right ones.

Whereas when I try to control things that aren’t under my control, I might take many steps, but I’ll be running in a circle.

Those were some thoughts I had on pretending. Maybe they were interesting to you as well. For me, this was a good reminder to be conscious of what I’m prioritizing and to realize what other people’s opinions of me ultimately are: outside my control.

I want to leave you with another Jiu-Jitsu saying, “There is no losing in Jiu-Jitsu. You either win or you learn.” And I think that’s a great way to look at life. You either win or you learn.

A little note for people thinking about starting with grappling or Jiu-Jitsu:

I hope this doesn’t discourage you. In the beginning, we all suck and that’s okay. Those mistakes beginners tend to make? I’ve made all of them. Plenty of times. But over time, I’ve gotten a lot better, and I think you will too.
So, if you want to give it a try, great! I’d suggest finding a gym you feel comfortable in to have fun, and who knows? Maybe we’ll get to roll sometimes 🙂