Empty Bucket Syndrome

Do you find it challenging to talk about your work? I sure do. I meet with a colleague often and he will inevitably ask, as if unfurling a magic carpet, “so what are you celebrating this week?” And he genuinely wants to know. About the good things going on with my work. While this is a great conversation starter, it freezes me. Inevitably I find I am scooping around in a metaphorical empty bucket for something, anything, to offer him. I stammer a few things, offer a small smile and a shrug, and hope he moves on. I’ve come to describe this as the “empty bucket syndrome.”

It’s not that I don’t have celebrations. That week I might have written a lot, finished a play, worked on a 10-minute, took a long walk, and completed a blog post or two! But when asked, these seem small and insignificant. It’s not like I won a major award or got an agent or won a fellowship. In my mind sharing these petty things with my colleague (even though he wants to hear about these things) puts me at risk of judgment.

This reluctance to share celebrations stems from a complex interplay of upbringing and personal disposition. Raised in an environment steeped in middle-class caution and modesty and a firm belief that no one should “stand out” or “be better than others.” I learned early on to keep my successes hidden away, lest they invite scrutiny or disappointment. In a household where standing out was met with skepticism and admonition, I internalized the notion that my achievements – my celebrations – were best kept to myself.

This reluctance to celebrate oneself mirrors the silent suffering of Catholic saints. Raised on the dramatic stories of those holy people who concealed their hardships behind a facade of serenity. Like them, I found solace in keeping silent, believing that by keeping my victories hidden, I could shield them from the inevitable critiques of others.

Critique and the fear of judgment looms large in the empty bucket syndrome as well. The prospect of having my ideas dissected and criticized by others fills me with apprehension, leading me to keep my creative endeavors close to the chest. In doing so, I avoid the risk of failure or disappointment, preserving a sense of control over my own narrative.

But this reluctance to share successes comes at a cost. By denying yourself the opportunity to celebrate, you undermine the value of your own achievements, perpetuating a cycle of self-doubt and self-criticism. And ultimately you deprive yourself the validation and recognition you deserve. Even in small celebrations validate you.

If you suffer from the empty bucket syndrome, I feel your pain. My reluctance to celebrate myself, especially my creative work, offers a form of self-preservation—a way to protect myself from the judgment of others and the sting of potential failure. Yet, in doing so, I deny myself the opportunity to fully embrace and appreciate my own worth. As I continue to grapple with this internal struggle, I recognize the need to break free from the shackles of self-doubt and self-criticism, and to embrace the joy and fulfillment that comes with celebrating oneself.

Happy writing.