When I think about the sentences we live by, I think about a time when a sentence I had not said aloud was quietly making decisions for me.
I had been working for Weight Watchers as a part-time leader for around a year when an Area Service Manager position became available. I would never have applied for it myself. I would not have considered myself good enough, experienced enough or trained enough. I am not sure I would even have believed I could do the job.
It was only because a manager from the area office approached me and suggested that I apply that I considered it.
Looking back, I had been a successful leader. I think that manager saw something in me that I found difficult to see in myself at that point. I applied, got the job and became the youngest of the 13 Area Service Managers in my region.
That could easily be told as a straightforward success story: someone noticed my ability, I took an opportunity and achieved something I had not thought possible.
But that is not what stays with me most.
What stays with me is the sentence underneath it all: "I'm not good enough."
The words we tell ourselves
The idea behind The Sentences We Live By is that our experiences shape us, but it is what we tell ourselves about those experiences that can become the sentences we live by.
An experience happens. We interpret it. Over time, that interpretation can become familiar. Eventually, it may begin to sound like fact rather than one way of understanding what happened.
For me, "I'm not good enough" affected what I believed I could apply for, achieve or even attempt. It meant that I needed someone else to suggest the position before I could consider myself a possible candidate.
The opportunity was there. My experience was there. The manager could see qualities in me that made the role worth discussing. Yet my own view of myself had become a quiet barrier.
There was no dramatic announcement in my head saying, "You must not apply." It was subtler than that. I simply did not see the position as something meant for me. The sentence had already made the decision before I had properly considered the opportunity.
I wonder how often that happens in working life. Not because women are incapable of recognising opportunities, and not because we are solely responsible for the barriers we face. Workplace culture, expectations, access to development and the behaviour of other people all matter. The environment around us can influence what feels possible and whose ability gets noticed.
But there can also be an internal sentence influencing what we notice about ourselves.
When achievement does not remove the belief
Getting the position did not simply make the underlying belief disappear.
I became an Area Service Manager, but I did not suddenly feel free from doubt. Instead, my perfectionism stepped in because I felt I needed to prove myself. The sentence changed how it showed up.
If "I'm not good enough" had made it difficult to see myself in the role, then "It has to be perfect" influenced how I approached the role once I had it.
I felt I needed to work harder, achieve more and demonstrate that I deserved to be there. The position itself was not enough to reassure me. I seemed to need continual evidence that I was capable of doing it.
In my fourth year, I became the top manager in the UK for contribution, out of 54 Area Service Managers. That was a significant achievement, and I am proud of what I achieved.
It also came at the expense of family time and looking after myself.
That is an important part of the story. The achievement did not prove that the original sentence had been wrong once and for all. Nor did it mean that working harder and achieving more had solved everything.
In some ways, the achievement gave the sentence a new way to operate. Rather than preventing me from applying, it encouraged me to overwork in order to prove that I belonged in the position.
From the outside, I may have appeared capable and successful. Internally, I was still being influenced by words that questioned my ability and placed demanding conditions on my worth.
The quiet influence on confidence and voice at work
This is why I believe it matters to notice the sentences we live by.
They do not only affect the obvious moments, such as whether we apply for a role or put ourselves forward for an opportunity. They can also influence what we say in meetings, whether we share an idea, how we respond to a mistake and how much responsibility we take on.
A sentence such as "What if I fail?" may affect a decision before anyone else knows there is a decision to make. "I can't do that" may sound like a conclusion when it is really a fear. "I say yes to everyone else" can shape the boundaries around our time and attention. "I'll do it later" may sometimes be about more than organisation. And "It has to be perfect" can make a reasonable piece of work feel as though it is never finished.
These sentences can affect confidence and voice at work even when a person appears competent, reliable or successful. They may be hidden beneath achievement rather than visible instead of it.
That does not mean every difficulty at work comes from something we tell ourselves. It does not mean a person can simply think differently and overcome unfair treatment, exclusion or poor leadership. It would be wrong to place the responsibility for workplace culture entirely on individuals.
It does mean that our inner words are worth noticing alongside what is happening around us.
What sentence might be influencing you?
I am not suggesting that you need to create a list of new statements or replace every difficult thought with a positive one.
For me, the first point is recognition.
What sentence appears when an opportunity arises? What do you tell yourself before speaking in a meeting, asking for support or making a decision? What happens after you make a mistake? Does one familiar phrase seem to explain everything before you have had the chance to consider another possibility?
Sometimes the sentence is so familiar that it does not feel like a sentence at all. It feels like the truth.
My experience at Weight Watchers has helped me see that a quiet belief can influence both what we attempt and how we behave after we succeed. "I'm not good enough" nearly stopped me from applying for a position I went on to achieve. "It has to be perfect" then affected the price I was willing to pay for that achievement.
Neither sentence told the whole truth.
I had been a successful leader. Someone else could see my capability before I could. I was able to become an Area Service Manager and achieve an important result. I also needed to recognise what the pursuit of that result was costing me.
That is the complexity of the sentences we live by. They can influence us without defining everything about us. They can be connected to real experiences, while still offering an incomplete or unhelpful interpretation of those experiences.
Perhaps, as you think about your own working life, something in this feels familiar. Perhaps you are recognising a sentence that has been quietly influencing what you apply for, what you say or how much you believe you need to prove.
You might simply find yourself wondering: "I recognise something in this. I wonder whether there is a sentence quietly influencing me too?"
For now, that noticing may be enough.
