Most of us get the big things right: Don’t touch fire, wrestle alligators, or play in traffic. But beneath these necessary survival strategies, we are boundless reservoirs of delusion.
While many of our unmoored beliefs are specific to us – I seem to be the only person who thinks I have a beautiful singing voice – some are universal. Chief among these is the claim: I’m my own worst critic.
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One of my first full-time jobs outside of college was working in the jewelry industry at Harry Winston in Manhattan. The experience I gained as a sales assistant, working at the historical house of Winston, expanded my understanding of the power of a brand.
The amount of money customers would spend on a Harry Winston diamond, while scoffing at what was down the street at Tiffany’s, seemed absurd. I was on a yearly salary of $35k, and people were dropping more than that amount on a tennis bracelet with less than 30 minutes of deliberation.
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