Many of us can probably recall a childhood night interrupted by a dull, mysterious ache in our legs – a sensation that seemed to arrive out of nowhere, just as we were drifting off to sleep.
The first time this happened to me, my father explained that the ache had a name: growing pains. This response opened the floodgates to a string of follow-up questions: “Does this mean my legs are growing right now?” “Does it happen to everyone?” “Why does growing hurt?”
Even though the idea that we can feel our legs growing might be interesting – and a cause of celebration to those of us who have long dreamt of becoming taller – I have come to learn that the growing pains we feel as children have nothing to do with our bones growing at all.
Vito Pavone, Andrea Vescio and several other researchers wrote a 2019 review published in the World Journal of Orthopedics that states that growing pains could be the result of fatigue or overuse, not bone growth. In fact, Pavone et al. go on to say that the available evidence suggests we don’t feel any pain when our bones grow. They suggest our bones develop gradually, which means it’s extremely unlikely that we would feel this process happening.
Although growing pains appear to be a physical misnomer, the term reflects how growth and change can lead to discomfort.
This is true not only of physical change but also of the various changes we experience in our lives.
In my transition from secondary education to working as a Learning Experience Designer (which you can learn more about in this blog post), I’ve often experienced the uncomfortable growing pains that come with change. To explain, allow me to tell you about the first course I worked on.
When I read the course outline, I felt a sharp sense of panic and dread. What I had to do felt so far away from the teaching background I had come from. Instead of talking for most of the day, I was being asked to communicate my ideas in writing. Instead of relying on the learners in my classroom to ask questions, I was being asked to anticipate what learners might struggle with and write in a way that was clear and easy to understand.
Instead of leaning into the unfamiliar, I told myself to focus on all the ways teaching in-person and learning design were similar. This way, it wouldn’t be so scary; this way, the learning curve wouldn’t feel so steep; this way, I thought, I would do a perfect job.
Thinking I was saving myself from making mistakes, I was potentially robbing myself of the chance to grow and learn new skills.
The truth is, we all bring something from our past experiences to our current situation, and this can be a good thing. There are skills I have as someone who has taught in a classroom that a Learning Experience Designer with a different background might not have. But, the trick is to understand when what you used to do before doesn’t align with what you need to do now, even though you wish it would.
When I created that first course, I brought things from my experience that didn’t fit in this new context. I didn’t think of the nuances that come with e-learning. This meant many elements of my lessons weren’t learner-friendly. I had large walls of text that would be intimidating for most learners to read. I also didn’t fully understand the necessity for interactivity in a lesson, so I included too few opportunities for learners to do something other than passively read the content.
Although the feedback in the first module review was insightful, supportive, and kind, coming to terms with all the things I didn’t yet know how to do, hurt. I was embarrassed realising how much I still had to learn. During a check-in with my line manager, I was reminded that learning new skills and stumbling along the way was part of being a Learning Experience Designer. In fact, it seemed the only one who thought I would somehow escape the discomfort of learning something new, was me.
I approached that first course wanting to be perfect, but things are seldom perfect, especially when you do them for the first time. And they can’t even come close to being perfect when you’re afraid to grow.
We live in a society where we receive so many subliminal messages to be perfect. Many of us panic if we don’t have an eraser or Tipex on standby whenever we write something down on paper. Instagram and WhatsApp even allow us to edit the messages we send. Although aiming for quality and clarity is good, especially in e-learning, the desire to be perfect might mean we miss the growth opportunities that come with missteps. Perhaps this desire to be perfect explains why we generally want to avoid receiving feedback. However, as uncomfortable as it might be to read, it is vital for our growth.
According to a 2014 Washington Post article by Jena McGregor, many of us dislike receiving feedback because we view it as criticism of us and are therefore discouraged by it. Because the criticism is about something we have done, we internalise it as being about the kinds of people we are.
But the truth is, in our pursuit of growth as Learning Experience Designers, we are going to stumble and make mistakes.
Feedback gives us a chance to recognise those mistakes and learn from them. After all, doing things wrong and learning how to do them better can’t be separated from each other – we learn by missing the mark a few times.
Since that first review, I have noticed the many ways I’ve grown. I now think about how learners will experience each module I create far more than I did before. The people who provided me with feedback made this growth possible. However, growth is not linear, so I don’t always get it right. With each new client, I have to step out of my comfort zone again and think about how I can make their learners resonate with the content. As the parameters change, I need to discover new ways to apply a lesson I have already learnt about keeping learners engaged, and this often means I make mistakes as I adjust to a different client’s requirements.
The important thing is learning from the mistakes I make and the constructive feedback I receive, and carrying these lessons forward into the next project.
Instead of resisting feedback, it’s more helpful to embrace it and try to apply it to the next thing you do.
If you take this approach, missteps can serve as a reminder that you’re never done growing and that stumbling every now and then is a good thing.
In a post she wrote in her “What I Know For Sure “ series from the September 2018 issue of O Magazine, Oprah Winfrey offers an inspiring way to think about the mistakes we make as we grow. She says, “learning to appreciate your best lessons, mistakes, and setbacks as stepping stones to the future is a clear sign you're moving in the right direction.”
Like Oprah, thinking positively about the discomfort that comes with learning has shaped how I approach new tasks and situations. Although I still feel nervous when I’m asked to start a new task or project, I mostly feel excited.
I also remember the feedback I have received from previous reviews and what I have learnt, confident that I am better this time than I was before.
Instead of reaching for perfection, I now reach for growth.
To reflect on your own experience of growth, consider the following questions:
What I’ve learnt is that growing pains are necessary, even though they’re uncomfortable. This is because they are a sign that we have stumbled and have gained valuable experience that will help us do better in the future. Ultimately, growing pains are evidence that we’re learning, and I think that’s pretty amazing.
