Reflection You Give to Others

Reflection You Give to Others

As a very shy and withdrawn child, I wasn’t very good at social skills. In fact, my face would turn red, my voice would break, and I couldn’t do anything to change that. I remember how hard it was — to stay quiet and feel like people didn’t like me. The fact was, I didn’t like myself, so how could others?

It was a very sad moment for me, but at some point, while I was playing The Sims, I remember that there was a way to improve charisma: you just put your Sim in front of a mirror, and they would eventually reach level 10 in charisma while talking funny to themselves. It seemed so easy — just a few days in their world and they were almost at the top of skill. Of course, the way to find confidence is different for everyone, but that idea stuck in my head.

“If I start talking like a Sim,” I thought, “even if it sounds ridiculous, maybe I’ll increase my charisma.” So what I did was: I started walking with my dog as a teenager — I don’t remember the exact age, maybe 15 or 16. I was tired of not being able to talk to people, so I would take him out to the fields to run, and I would try to break the blockage in my throat that had been there since early childhood.

It was horrible. I didn’t see the point at first. I felt so stupid doing it, and even allowing the idea that I could speak with confidence felt even dumber. But I kept doing it. I really wanted to be able to do that.

Change Comes With Time

I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but as I kept doing it for years, I didn’t really see the effects. I think I was waiting for some kind of breakthrough moment that would wash away all the humiliations of my life that had made me that way.

I kept trying, and even though I wasn’t noticing big changes, I was slowly changing. I was learning. Just like playing music on a guitar — over time, your fingers start to remember, your brain makes the connections, and eventually you notice: “Huh, this is actually getting better.”

As I kept searching for ways to be better at human relationships, I thought psychology might be a good direction for me. So I went to study it — pushed by my parents, hearing the phrase every high school graduate knows: “Just finish the studies. Get an education.”

So I went. But studying alone wasn’t enough — I needed a job too.

I thought: How can I find something that will help me become more confident and better at talking to people?

Still extremely shy, I thought a call center might help. Maybe they’d give me advice or some tips on how to talk to people better. That’s how my journey started. It was my first serious job, and I went in full of hope — hoping I’d stop hesitating when I spoke, that it would be my golden ticket to charisma level 10.

But while the idea behind it was good, the job didn’t align with my values. My manager wanted us to push every call to make a sale. Of course, pushing people and saying the right thing at the right time is part of sales — that’s understandable.

But pushing people who clearly didn’t need something, just to make an extra five bucks for the company, didn’t sit right with me.

There was one day, after a lot of struggling, when I really wanted to do well — to sell extra TV channels to someone who actually wanted them. Something I could honestly recommend. But then I ended up talking to a blind woman, around 80 or 90 years old. She only kept the TV on so she wouldn’t have to sit in silence, because the silence was too much for her to bear. She had lived through World War II, the Warsaw Uprising, and now she lived alone. She didn’t need more channels in her subscription.

As she shared with me how hard the silence was for her, I tried to follow the company’s script, but I felt horrible. Like some clueless young guy trying to squeeze money from an old woman for something she didn’t need. What she needed was peace.

I apologized deeply. I told her honestly that she didn’t need it. After the call, still in shock, my supervisor called me to his desk and started yelling at me — saying it was an easy sell, that I should’ve just pushed it and made her say yes. He told me to stop messing around and bring in the sales.

Mentors Can Appear to Be Fake

Before that, I saw him as a tough guy, but also as an authority — confident, skilled, successful. I wanted to be like him. But after that moment, it was like putting on glasses: I saw him clearly. A narcissistic manipulator with no moral compass. Anyone who would try to sell to that old lady was, in my eyes, a scammer.

I stood there, and my decision came quickly. I said I wanted to quit — asked what I needed to sign. He started yelling again, telling me to stop messing around, go back to my desk, and bring the sales.

I was devastated. I had really believed that job would make me into the person I wanted to be. But it was clear now that it was impossible.

The next day, when that manager wasn’t there, I talked to a different, more human manager. I explained what happened, and she understood my perspective. I asked how I could resign and how long it would take. She tried to persuade me to stay, but she felt I was done. That same day, she went with me to sign the resignation papers. I was out.

Learning While You Can

I’m not saying you should quit a job you don’t like just like that— that would be a stupid takeaway. I was 19, it was my first job, and I was in a position where I could afford to quit. That’s one thing about being young and still living with your parents: you have time and a level of security that lets you explore, make mistakes, and search for your passions.

I definitely didn’t use my teenage years well, but once I started learning — I started.

So I left, with no obligations. But of course, my parents started getting more and more frustrated with me. Eventually, my dad walked into my room while I was playing a video game and said:

“You really need to find a job.”