A Thought is Not a Fact

Recently, I made a mistake. I received an e-mail from one of the partners at our firm.

“You filled out the wrong form.”

Maybe it was my articling student neurosis – that cumulative, low-lying fear of damaging one’s emerging reputation and potential for hire back – but I felt more stress than the situation warranted. A panel of my inner self-critics promptly convened.

“She is going to think you are incompetent.”

My body tensed up. The thought echoed around in my head. Enter stage right: the angel on my other shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It was a silly mistake that you can fix.”

For some reason, even my better angel possessed a judgmental tone. To distract myself, I kept calm and carried on with whatever I had been working on, but the battle of my inner critics raged on in the background of my mind. I am well-trained to argue both sides of an issue – fighting myself was proving futile.

Luckily, as a former mental health professional, I am also well-trained to manage situations like these. I took out a paper and pen. I began to slow down my thoughts by writing them down. Then, I weighed the evidence.

I wrote down evidence in support of my unhelpful thought.

She is going to think I am incompetent because:

1) She wrote me an e-mail that said, “You filled out the wrong form.”

2) I was unfamiliar with the form, so I should have doubled checked it.

A long pause ensued. What else did I have?

“Ok,” I thought. “I will come back to that one.”

Next, I wrote down evidence against my unhelpful thought.

She is not going to think I am incompetent because:

1) She told me earlier this week that my work was very helpful.

2) Everyone makes mistakes.

3) The two forms looked almost identical – anyone might have grabbed the wrong one.

4) I can acknowledge the mistake and fix it quickly, which may even leave the positive impression that I am non-defensive and able to recover effectively after making a mistake.

Stepping back, I recognized that on a balance of probabilities, the evidence clearly favoured one side. The partner probably was not going to think of me as totally incompetent because I filled out the wrong form. I needed a more realistic alternative thought. I decided upon this one:

“The partner may have been annoyed that I initially filled out the wrong form, but she is probably not going to think of me as incompetent. I can fix this mistake easily. I believe I am competent, and she also has reasons to believe I am competent.”

There it was – my new thought. I felt better. Did I feel 100% better? No. I still made a mistake. Challenging the unhelpful thought did not undo my mistake. As a person with a long history of struggling with perfectionism, I doubt I will ever feel totally ok with making a mistake. Weighing the evidence did help though – it gave me a better perspective and took the edge off of that icky plaguing feeling I get after doing the wrong thing.

The method I followed is an example of a Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) thought record. Thought records come in different formats, but essentially, they are evidence-based tools designed to challenge and reframe unhelpful thoughts – otherwise known as cognitive distortions. I have often relied on this technique to break cycles of negative thinking, and over time, the practice has strengthened my emotional resilience and overall positivity of mind. If you would like to try using a thought record, there are many free templates available online, including one published by the NHS, linked here.

Lawyers are trained to think critically about everything – and sometimes that knack for criticism turns inwards and wreaks havoc. By exercising our talent for distinguishing assumptions from facts, we can weigh the evidence for and against our thoughts, keep our inner critics in check, and exercise a bit of self-compassion in the process. Thoughts are just thoughts; they are not necessarily facts. Self-critical thoughts, in particular, often do not hold up under scrutiny. The next time self-doubt tries to steal your confidence, try to remember the most likely truth: You are good enough to be where you are.

About the Author

Megan Pratt-Ahmad is an articling student with Harper Grey LLP. She will begin a clerkship with the BC Court of Appeal following her articles. Prior to entering law school, Megan obtained a Master of Social Work degree from the University of Toronto and worked for several years as a social worker and clinically trained counsellor in both public and private settings. Passionate about law and mental health, she is dedicated to exploring the intersection of both fields.