The Malevolent Puppeteer – how the worry in front of us may be the worry behind.

This is a tough one to write. Because I have seen this messaged many times before: from law school deans and faculty. From CEOs. From psychiatric experts. Career coaches. You name it. And I have seen the resistance and, at times, anger that it is met with. But I am going to try anyway, because I hope it may help some, and that hope is worth the effort, I believe.

If you told me I was an imperfect, flawed human, I’d say “of course.” If you told me, however, that much of the damage done to me was when I was a child, at the subconscious level I’d resist that. Or I wouldn’t even acknowledge it. I know this for a fact because I resisted that very argument for years. But it’s true, and per just about every single expert on the topic, it is true for all of us. Let me define trauma to a child: “anything significantly less than nurturing is traumatic.” And what do we do with those less than nurturing moments? Nothing. We can’t. We don’t have the tools to deal with them, so they become tucked away into our subconscious. Not a good thing, because they come out when we are adults.

I’ll give a personal example. When I was a child, I was falsely accused a good deal — in an unpredictable manner. “Mike was the one who took a hammer to the wall,” etc. Now, looking back, I can probably tell that my parents knew the reality — and that those false accusations were meaningless. But at 5 years old? No way.

So what happens to me as a 48-year-old mostly adult if I am falsely accused of something? I’m not just triggered, but I am triggered to the state of my 5-year-old self. It’s true. I will almost literally scream in protest. I won’t stop protesting until the person withdraws their accusation. And it’s quite extraordinary when you juxtapose this with a scenario where I am rightfully accused of doing something wrong — it is almost a relief. I embrace it.

How does this relate to others? Let me talk a second about the age group I speak to daily, roughly 20-25 years old. By daily, I mean I get calls from this group on Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and every other day of the year. And I’ve seen a growing trend almost every year that I really want to try to help address.

But first a disclaimer, because here is where the writing gets difficult, the reason being I think people generally need to learn this on their own. Some random stranger plucking away at 4:00 AM talking about someone else, or many others else… how could they know? And I certainly don’t know much — in fact, little — about human psychology, and absolutely nothing about you. But again, I do see the trend, as have others around me.

Each year, progressively, I get contacted by complete strangers who say something along the lines of the following:

Mr. Spivey, thank you for taking the time to read this. I’m incredibly nervous because I am applying to X school, and if I don’t get admitted to that school my life is ruined.

(Parenthetically and tangentially, let me first add that I am always appreciative when others are thankful for my time. So, if there is another trend I have seen, it is how respectful everyone is of that. It speaks wonders to this generation.) But back to the base statement, there are, of course, permutations of the above. “My dreams will be destroyed.” “There is no other place I can really see myself at other than Harvard.” Etc. But the theme is the exact same. And the percentage of people saying it, as I have alluded to, grows every year.

I’m no expert here — I don’t know all the variables of why this is on the rise each year — so I am going to link an article. A really good article that I hope everyone reads, whether you fall into the above category or not. Because we all worry about something. In fact, I am worrying right now. I worry that readers will be offended by this. “How dare he tell me I can’t have my dreams?” Which is not what I am saying at all. But I do hope you consider this: “the catastrophe we think will happen has in fact already happened.”

Do I know any one particular person reading this article may be a worrier or hinging their life outcomes on one specific school because of something from their past? For certain not. But I do know I sent that article to an incredibly talented psychotherapist who said it was one of the most spot-on reads he has ever come across. Hence I share.

Now, let me talk about the one thing I do know very well. Because I have 20+ years of experience in it. If you don’t end up going to that certain school, your life isn’t close to over. But there is much better news. Let me get specific again. When I was at Vanderbilt Law School and Washington University in St. Louis, we were the backup school for a great deal of our students. For Vanderbilt, you can just use Duke. But also Harvard, Penn, etc. So many students came to Vanderbilt thinking they would transfer to Duke, etc. after their 1L year. So incredibly few even tried — they fell in love with the school they were at. I’ve seen these so many times in my career I can’t count them. Someone goes to Penn because they didn’t get into Harvard and tells me they are going to try to transfer. A few months later, they couldn’t see themselves anywhere but at Penn.

It gets better. I stay in touch with many today. These former students of mine are SO INCREDIBLY MIGHTY. They are partners at the most elite firms, CEOs of companies, heads of organizations. You name it. They have met their goals and beyond. They have accomplished things in their 30s I could never dream of in my entire lifetime.

I have seen this exact scenario year after year. I’ve seen it with myself. The name of the school is meaningless relative to you. Your fiber. Your ultimate drive. My mom went to the University of Alabama. In the corporate world, people worked for her that went to Yale and Harvard. And she did this in a male-dominated industry. She rose up the ranks because she pulled all-nighters when others would not. Her bosses couldn’t care less about what degree she had. Performance means everything. Potential and pedigree, nothing. That is the reality of the professional world.

The fact of the matter is that the school ranked number 7 is likely zero different in almost every meaningful regard from the school ranked number 11. It certainly won’t alter your career path. I say this not just because I have seen it thousands of times, but because I have lived it out personally. I went to the lowest-ranked business school I applied to.

Again, I realize when I say this some will push back hard. Which is fair. Because one of the favorite parts of my job is seeing the dreams and aspirations of brilliant young minds. And it isn’t enough for me to just say “trust me,” because you shouldn’t. So rather I’ll say this: trust yourself. Trust that you will determine your outcomes. Not some arbitrary school with a brand name that happens to be in movies or magazines. You may get your dream school. You may not. But I bet if you email me two years from now, that school that wasn’t your dream school? It will very much feel like it is now.

So I wish you the best of luck in applications. But, I don’t worry about what is beyond applications. I really don’t. Because I’ve already peeked behind that curtain, and it’s always what you make of it.

Mike