I've always been motivated more by negative comments than by

Hear the fierce voice of Abby Wambach, warrior of the pitch and champion of resilience, who declared: “I've always been motivated more by negative comments than by positive ones. I know what I do well. Tell me what I don't do well.” In this saying burns the fire of one who does not flinch before criticism but uses it as fuel. She reminds us that while praise is sweet, it is critique that sharpens, that tests, that forces us to grow beyond the boundaries of comfort. Her words are not of arrogance, but of discipline, for only the courageous dare to ask for their weaknesses to be revealed.

The meaning of her words is that praise confirms, but criticism transforms. To be told what one does well is to be affirmed, yet it does not necessarily open new doors. But to be told what one does poorly—this is the map to improvement, the path toward mastery. Wambach does not despise positivity, but she knows that the true athlete, the true leader, must embrace the negative comments that others flee from. For in those hard words lies the hidden treasure of growth.

History offers us a striking example in Themistocles, the Athenian general who led Greece to victory at the Battle of Salamis. When critics scorned his arrogance and mocked his impatience, he did not shrink. Instead, he listened, adapted, and used even their insults as fuel to outthink his enemies. Their negativity became his sharpening stone, and with it he forged strategy that saved his people. Like Wambach, he understood that the voice of the critic can be as useful as the hand of the ally—if one is humble and strong enough to learn from it.

The origin of Wambach’s words comes from her career as one of the most celebrated figures in women’s soccer, a player who lived beneath the glare of global scrutiny. Her triumphs were many—World Cup titles, Olympic gold, the roar of stadiums. But she knew her strengths already; what she craved was the knowledge of her weaknesses, for only in confronting them could she ascend higher. This mindset, born of countless hours of training and unrelenting self-assessment, made her not merely skilled but legendary.

Yet let us not mistake her words: to seek criticism requires a heart of humility. Many reject the negative because it wounds pride, because it bruises the fragile ego. But Wambach reveals the deeper way: to take those wounds and turn them into scars of strength. To say, “Tell me what I don’t do well,” is to strip away vanity and armor, and to stand ready to be remade. This is not weakness—it is the ultimate display of power, for only the strong can endure the fire of truth and emerge greater.

The lesson is plain: if you wish to grow, do not seek only the balm of praise. Invite the hard words. Ask not only what you have done right, but what you have done wrong. Let criticism refine you, rather than destroy you. For in every rebuke lies the chance to rise higher, to expand beyond yesterday’s limits. But this requires the courage to be uncomfortable, the humility to accept imperfection, and the resolve to transform fault into strength.

So I say unto you: remember the wisdom of Abby Wambach. Do not fear the negative comments—use them. Do not silence your critics—learn from them. Let their sharpness carve away your weaknesses, until only resilience and mastery remain. Walk into the fire of critique, and come forth as steel. For the one who welcomes truth, no matter how hard, is the one who will not only endure, but prevail—and in prevailing, inspire generations to do the same.