The Lies We Tell Ourselves

A couple of years ago, there was absolutely nothing you could have done to convince me to teach.

I had a phrase I repeated so often that I believed it myself: "I'm a terrible teacher."

My reasoning seemed valid at the time. I often felt like I was still figuring things out myself, so how was I supposed to explain them to someone else in a way they would understand?

Looking back, I realize that wasn't the truth. It was doubt speaking. Maybe it was also inexperience. Every time I avoided teaching because I thought I wasn't good at it, I was also avoiding the very thing that would have made me better.

I remember my National Youth Service Corp (NYSC) year vividly. I was posted to a secondary school in Lafia, Nasarawa state and I was devastated. Within my first few days there, I was already searching for another Place of Primary Assignment.

Once I found an alternative, I went to meet the headmistress of the school I had been posted to. People around me kept saying, "She doesn't reject corps members. The school needs them."

I smiled and said, "Don't worry, she'll reject me."
And she did.

Thinking about how I got the headmistress to reject me makes me laugh. The irony is that convincing someone to see your point of view, communicating clearly, and helping people understand are all forms of teaching. I just didn't recognize it then.
That mindset stayed with me for years.

Even after I started my career in research, I would still tell my friends that I was a terrible teacher. I believed I could do the work, but teaching it to someone else? That wasn't for me.

It's funny how life has a way of proving you wrong.

Today, a significant part of my work is teaching. I mentor my team, coach researchers, explain ideas to stakeholders, and help others develop skills. I spend a good part of my day breaking down complex things so someone else can understand them.

The very thing I kept running away from became part of what I do every day.

It makes me wonder how many other things I've avoided simply because I convinced myself I wasn't capable.
Growth has a way of exposing the stories we tell ourselves.

I've come to believe that God has given us the ability to become far more than we can currently see. Many times, the problem isn't that we lack the ability. It's that we've mistaken our current level for our limit.

So if you've been saying, "I'm just not good at this," maybe that's not the truth.
Maybe you're simply at the beginning.

Embrace the challenge. Give yourself permission to be a learner. The things that feel impossible today may become the very things you're known for tomorrow.