Greetings From My Imposter Syndrome

Confession: I suffer from brutal imposter syndrome. It’s not something I wear too proudly on my chest, though this proclamation might tell you otherwise. I came into this week fully intending on writing about denim and sharing a video about how I make homemade almond milk, but then I started to doubt myself.

“No one cares” that badgering little voice kept saying. “Quit it, you pest, yes they do” I’d snap in return. “We’ll see…” it’d snicker back. I sure do wish that voice would start paying some rent in my head…its squatter rights have expired.

You see, going through the exercise of finally putting my voice to something that’s mine, no editorial calendar I need to approve with anyone, no filtering for the sake of “the brand,” has brought up A LOT of feelings, mostly of self-doubt. I’ve always done this for someone else, and with that came a veil to hide behind. It’s not self-promotion if you’re on salary, right? It’s a job, a career. This, though? This is a choice, one that I’m proud of making even if every decision comes with a pause filled with “I’m not worthy” echoes in my head. But here’s the thing: I know that I know what I’m doing. 

I’m not sharing this for any kind of pity. My struggles are my own and I work hard to overcome them (hello, podcasts…more on that in a bit). But I bring it up today because it’s the inconspicuous pebble in the road I will 100% trip on along the way and putting it here, right at the beginning of this journey, will hopefully serve as a reminder that my imposter syndrome is not bigger than my confidence, however contradictory that may sound. And it’s not bigger than yours, either. I’ll remind you if you remind me. Deal?

“Don’t wait for confidence, you don’t need it, that’s not how it works.”

Charles—my husband for those that don’t know; my biggest cheerleader, my saint of a photographer—shared a quote with me earlier this week that spawned this whole monologue. (Blame him.) It came on the same day that I read another quote that got the gears churning. Let me share…

The one from Charles, by Sue Bryce, one of his favorite photographers: “Don’t wait for confidence, you don’t need it, that’s not how it works. Confidence is earned with action, practice and mastery.” 

And mine, from Cathy Heller, one of my favorite podcasters: “The cost of admission is courage. It’s our civic duty to give to the world whatever our gift is. God didn’t give us this magic to keep to ourselves.”

Sure, they both technically say different things, but to me, the message is the same: Move. Do. Start. Mastery will come, because it’s there, concealed inside you, but you gotta polish it up, baby, to see it shine. You have to be willing to make bad stuff, ugly things, total garbage, before things get good. For someone like me, a TOP NOTCH procrastinator, control freak and excuse cooker upper, it’s not easy, I promise you that. Especially not with that creep Imposter Syndrome constantly lurking at every turn. (Seriously, go away, man.) But if all the podcasts I’ve turned to for motivation in the last two years have taught me anything, what every single successful entrepreneur has shared about themselves when pressed, is that literally no one knows what they are doing (at least not in the beginning). That’s pretty freeing, TBH. 

So, instead of doing what I normally do (that being nothing), I’ve decided to lean in more, because that’s what I’m learning you should do with the things that make you uncomfortable (the good uncomfortable though, the kind of discomfort that you know will promote growth but you avoid because again…not comfortable). I’m going to keep going and I’m dragging you along with me if you’ll come. Grab that kettlebell sitting in the corner of your living room that taunts you every day for your inaction (oh, just me?) and let’s do this.

So that’s that. It’s out there. Welcome to my imposter syndrome (should I call her Deborah moving forward…she seems like a Deborah…Karen, maybe?). Karen (yup, feels right), you might be incessantly floating around in that annoying way you do, a loose mosquito buzzing around the open concept house that is my brain, but consider this a wall I’m putting up to block you out. Take your basic behind on home. You’re not welcome here anymore—you never were.