WHEN you hear the word "winner", what do you think of? Gold at the Olympics? First place in the soccer competition? The big promotion at work? Winning a national speech competition?
Or does winning involve something a little more subtle ... like mastering a new skill or having the courage to attempt something new in life?
Society undoubtedly has a role to play in how we conceptualise winning. "Winners" collect trophies, they obtain sponsorships and they are the best in a given area.
The definition of "winner" in the Oxford Dictionary is very specific: "Be successful or victorious in a contest or conflict."
But I wonder how helpful or healthy it is to have such a narrow idea of the word.
My experience has taught me that winning comes in many forms, and can often be a very personal experience.
My most recent "win" came at the national Toastmasters international speech competition where I was competing for first place and the chance to represent New Zealand in the world event in the US. I had planned, practised and perfected my speech ... I was ready to shine. But, on the day, I flopped - I forgot part of my speech, I didn't have fun with my speech the way I usually did, and I felt that I was mechanical in my delivery. It came as no surprise that I didn't place.
The winner was a very cool guy who delivered his speech eloquently and inspiringly. His speech was amazing and he totally deserved to represent New Zealand - congratulations to Justin Thompson.
However, Justin wasn't the only winner that day. I think I also won, and I'll tell you why.
I won that day because a huge support crew had come to Rotorua with me. We had stayed together the night before and shared a wonderful dinner; they had calmed and encouraged me before the speech; and reassured me after I flopped.
I was also a "winner" because the next day my boys showed me how to win and lose gracefully.
They were playing with Lego and asked me to judge which Lego I liked the best. I said that I found it really hard to judge, but they reassured me that I must pick one and that it would be okay, and so I made my selection and stated my reasons.
My younger son didn't "win" but he said to my victorious older son: "Congratulations, Joshua, you made great Lego."
My win came from my boys understanding that winning is about more than beating another person.
Even though I flopped at the international speech competition, I did not flop when I gave a very personal eulogy at a family funeral service two days earlier. If I had to get a speech right, then I wanted it to be that one.
I also won that day because I learnt so much from the other contestants. I learnt about how to prepare better for the next speech competition I enter - and I learnt how to keep things in perspective. My win was not to "be successful or victorious in a contest or conflict" by coming first; my win was more important than that. We don't win by beating other people, we win by beating ourselves. If we become a better version of ourself, better than we were yesterday, then that is our win. I'm aiming for personal bests. To me, that is a far better way to win. Who do you think of now when you think of a winner? I hope you think of yourself.
-A registered psychologist, Whanganui mother-of-two Kristen Hamling is studying for a PhD in well-being at AUT.