Play & Book Excerpts
Glass Ceilings and Sticky Floors
(Amplify Publishing)
© Erica Rooney
Chapter 2
Limiting Beliefs and Sticky Floors
I have always “wanted it all.” The career, the marriage, the house, the kids. And I got it. I am an executive, a wife, and a mom, and I live in a beautiful home complete with a sweet Bernedoodle, Kit-Kat.
As someone who was always striving for “what was next,” I climbed the corporate ladder quickly and obtained all the accolades. Yet, I struggled with believing that I deserved to be in my role as the head of human resources. I thought for sure they would find out they had made a mistake, and it was only a matter of time before I really screwed things up.
Plus, I was “balancing” being a mom to two small kids with “outward perfection.” I was waking up at 4:00 a.m. so I could work out, pack lunches, and do household chores like laundry and dishes. I would often flip open my laptop or phone to answer a few emails before the kids got up. I coordinated school pickups and drop-offs and made sure the kids had everything they needed for each school activity. I juggled swim and baseball practice, homework, volunteering at the school, and every appointment for every child and pet. I felt as if I was suffocating from all the responsibilities I had to carry and the societal expectations of how motherhood should look. I felt compelled to do all of this with ease. After all, it looked like all the OTHER moms were doing it. Why couldn’t I? So, I consistently added more and more to my plate to keep up with the other moms and what I felt it took to be a good mom.
I struggled with wanting to be not just a good mom but the best mom. I wanted my kids to have the best life, and I had a certain idea in my mind of how it all had to be done and how it should look. This severely limited anyone’s ability to help because when others stepped in to help, it was never good enough. That, coupled with my expectation that I had to be the one to do it all, left me drowning and often resenting all the things I “had” to do.
With each passing day, the mental, physical, and emotional workload I had to carry as a working mom kept getting heavier and heavier. As a partner to my husband, I carried a great deal of the weight of the household. And as an executive, I carried the weight of my team. Every small mistake I made in any arena (motherhood, career, or marriage) only solidified the thought that I was always falling short and failing to be a great mom, wife, partner, and executive, regardless of how much I did right.
The weight was crushing. I felt stuck in so many areas of my life. I felt very alone, despite the large network surrounding me. The outside picture that everyone saw did not match the immense feeling of failure, struggle, and isolation I felt on the inside. All of the responsibilities I had for others left me little time for my marriage and even less time for myself. I found myself wondering, “Is this it? This is what marriage and life are after so many years?”
But I couldn’t ask for help. I didn’t want to ask for help. I wanted to have it all, and by outward appearance, I did have it all. I had a successful job. I had a marriage of almost ten years. I couldn’t figure out why I felt anxiety, doubt, insecurity, and like something was missing when my life looked perfect on paper. I kept telling myself that I could figure out how to feel how I thought I should feel—happy and fulfilled. I thought that if I just kept pushing hard enough, I would finally get to a place where my life looked perfect on the outside but where I also felt good on the inside.
I was struggling to even stand on my own sticky floor.
What Is a Sticky Floor, and Where Do They Come From?
At the most basic level, sticky floors are limiting beliefs. Limiting beliefs are false beliefs that prevent you from pursuing your goals and desires. They can keep you from doing the most important work. They hold you back from becoming who you are meant to be, and they limit you from living out your full potential.
We often don’t even know we have these sticky floors until we find ourselves in a situation where we can’t ignore them, or someone points them out. Sometimes, we don’t see them at all.
Sticky floors are automatic thoughts or actions that are frequently formed in the unconscious mind. While often seen as a hindrance, they can be understood as a form of self-protection. They emerge as a subconscious shield, attempting to block us from potential harm such as judgment, shame, embarrassment, or failure. These sticky floors, ingrained through past experiences or societal influences, aim to keep us within the same and familiar boundaries. While they may obstruct our potential and our progress, it is critical to acknowledge that their origin lies in a deep-rooted instinct for self-preservation and survival.
If you go back hundreds of thousands of years, our brains have been trained to perceive any threats and to keep us alive. While threats from hundreds of thousands of years ago have changed, our brain’s desire to protect and survive hasn’t. We may not be running away from a wooly mammoth, but we deal with narcissistic leaders, sexism, and crushing expectations.
Our brains perceive any type of mental or physical harm as a threat. That means new roles, new bosses, and new challenges at work are all perceived by our minds as threats. The discomfort of not fitting in is a threat. The discomfort of failure is a threat. In reality, these sticky floors are the real threats.
Despite the powerful grip that the sticky floors have on you, it is important to remember that they do not have to last forever. In a future chapter, we cover the fascinating science of neuroplasticity and how it has shown us that our brains are remarkably adaptable and capable of change. First, you need a better understanding of how our brains work, how we learn, and, therefore, how these limiting beliefs come to be.
Limiting Beliefs and Sticky Floors
I have always “wanted it all.” The career, the marriage, the house, the kids. And I got it. I am an executive, a wife, and a mom, and I live in a beautiful home complete with a sweet Bernedoodle, Kit-Kat.
As someone who was always striving for “what was next,” I climbed the corporate ladder quickly and obtained all the accolades. Yet, I struggled with believing that I deserved to be in my role as the head of human resources. I thought for sure they would find out they had made a mistake, and it was only a matter of time before I really screwed things up.
Plus, I was “balancing” being a mom to two small kids with “outward perfection.” I was waking up at 4:00 a.m. so I could work out, pack lunches, and do household chores like laundry and dishes. I would often flip open my laptop or phone to answer a few emails before the kids got up. I coordinated school pickups and drop-offs and made sure the kids had everything they needed for each school activity. I juggled swim and baseball practice, homework, volunteering at the school, and every appointment for every child and pet. I felt as if I was suffocating from all the responsibilities I had to carry and the societal expectations of how motherhood should look. I felt compelled to do all of this with ease. After all, it looked like all the OTHER moms were doing it. Why couldn’t I? So, I consistently added more and more to my plate to keep up with the other moms and what I felt it took to be a good mom.
I struggled with wanting to be not just a good mom but the best mom. I wanted my kids to have the best life, and I had a certain idea in my mind of how it all had to be done and how it should look. This severely limited anyone’s ability to help because when others stepped in to help, it was never good enough. That, coupled with my expectation that I had to be the one to do it all, left me drowning and often resenting all the things I “had” to do.
With each passing day, the mental, physical, and emotional workload I had to carry as a working mom kept getting heavier and heavier. As a partner to my husband, I carried a great deal of the weight of the household. And as an executive, I carried the weight of my team. Every small mistake I made in any arena (motherhood, career, or marriage) only solidified the thought that I was always falling short and failing to be a great mom, wife, partner, and executive, regardless of how much I did right.
The weight was crushing. I felt stuck in so many areas of my life. I felt very alone, despite the large network surrounding me. The outside picture that everyone saw did not match the immense feeling of failure, struggle, and isolation I felt on the inside. All of the responsibilities I had for others left me little time for my marriage and even less time for myself. I found myself wondering, “Is this it? This is what marriage and life are after so many years?”
But I couldn’t ask for help. I didn’t want to ask for help. I wanted to have it all, and by outward appearance, I did have it all. I had a successful job. I had a marriage of almost ten years. I couldn’t figure out why I felt anxiety, doubt, insecurity, and like something was missing when my life looked perfect on paper. I kept telling myself that I could figure out how to feel how I thought I should feel—happy and fulfilled. I thought that if I just kept pushing hard enough, I would finally get to a place where my life looked perfect on the outside but where I also felt good on the inside.
I was struggling to even stand on my own sticky floor.
What Is a Sticky Floor, and Where Do They Come From?
At the most basic level, sticky floors are limiting beliefs. Limiting beliefs are false beliefs that prevent you from pursuing your goals and desires. They can keep you from doing the most important work. They hold you back from becoming who you are meant to be, and they limit you from living out your full potential.
We often don’t even know we have these sticky floors until we find ourselves in a situation where we can’t ignore them, or someone points them out. Sometimes, we don’t see them at all.
Sticky floors are automatic thoughts or actions that are frequently formed in the unconscious mind. While often seen as a hindrance, they can be understood as a form of self-protection. They emerge as a subconscious shield, attempting to block us from potential harm such as judgment, shame, embarrassment, or failure. These sticky floors, ingrained through past experiences or societal influences, aim to keep us within the same and familiar boundaries. While they may obstruct our potential and our progress, it is critical to acknowledge that their origin lies in a deep-rooted instinct for self-preservation and survival.
If you go back hundreds of thousands of years, our brains have been trained to perceive any threats and to keep us alive. While threats from hundreds of thousands of years ago have changed, our brain’s desire to protect and survive hasn’t. We may not be running away from a wooly mammoth, but we deal with narcissistic leaders, sexism, and crushing expectations.
Our brains perceive any type of mental or physical harm as a threat. That means new roles, new bosses, and new challenges at work are all perceived by our minds as threats. The discomfort of not fitting in is a threat. The discomfort of failure is a threat. In reality, these sticky floors are the real threats.
Despite the powerful grip that the sticky floors have on you, it is important to remember that they do not have to last forever. In a future chapter, we cover the fascinating science of neuroplasticity and how it has shown us that our brains are remarkably adaptable and capable of change. First, you need a better understanding of how our brains work, how we learn, and, therefore, how these limiting beliefs come to be.
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Erica Rooney has over 15 years of experience in varying areas of human resources, employee engagement, health and wellness, and employee experience. Her passion lies in elevating the employee experience through a holistic approach: focusing on growth and development, connecting passion with purpose, and aligning careers with core values.
She lives in the Research Triangle Park area of North Carolina with her husband, Dan, and her two children, Hudson and Halle. She enjoys running half-marathons and reading historical fiction novels. |
Erica Rooney
Photo Courtesy: Erica Rooney |
