This week, I landed some paid social media work for a cause I’m deeply passionate about. I was so excited because it meant I got to work on something I really want to, doing something I’m good at and make money! I should mention I’ve been writing publicly since 2008 and doing social media professionally since 2013. This was clearly something I knew how to do. So I sent an email and the person wrote back saying I’d be a great fit. They sent instructions for the task and I said I’d send some samples of work through for them to approve before I continued with the rest.
The first part was quite straightforward but the second was specific and I guessed my way through some part of the brief because I thought it’s best to have something to improve rather than say I don’t fully understand. My hunch was right — I needed to make changes. The person sent clearer instructions, I followed them and it was fine. Everyone goes home happy, right?
That’s not quite what happened.
In the time between sending in my guesswork, receiving feedback and making changes to deliver the final version, I had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in a long time. But that morning, it caught me unawares. My mind went into overdrive when the second email arrived. What it contained was feedback. What I read was, “You’re not good enough,” “You don’t know how to do anything,” “You’re a massive fraud who’s tricked your way into this job.”
I needed to lie down. I thought I was going to be ill. Instead, I ran away to my sister’s house (she’s my support bubble, I’m allowed to) who gave me a hug and let me have a cry on her shoulder (quite literally) and cooked for me. A weekend of walks, giggles and cake and I felt fine to return to the work which had scared me so much, to what I had, only a few hours ago, felt so incompetent at.
I tell you this because “impostor syndrome” is real. It sneaks up on you and screams in your face, playing up your deepest, worst insecurities. It doesn’t discriminate — it can affect anyone. How many degrees you have, how much money you make/have/come from or how many years you’ve worked in a particular industry does not insulate you from its effect. It’s the feeling of getting “caught”, your naivete or stupidity or seemingly lack of talent and skill being displayed in full public view to be shamed and criticised and ridiculed which can induce crippling fear.
Everyone’s experience varies on a spectrum.
Once I recovered from the panic attack, it made me think of everything I’ve heard about impostor syndrome and how I never took it very seriously but it’s all true and so much more:
Impostor syndrome overwhelmingly affects women and people of colour. It’s often what stops them from applying to jobs because they don’t think they meet all the criteria, for example.
Impostor syndrome can also affect super successful people. I once read of a famous movie star who’s made millions say in an interview that he felt like a massive fake and was just waiting for the moment when someone would say to him that the gig is up and pull the carpet out from under his feet.
Yes, impostor syndrome is real and overwhelming. It is also only as big and real as we allow it to be.
A great podcast whose many episodes I have enjoyed is How to Fail with Elizabeth Day. Our culture doesn’t encourage making more mistakes and learning from them. So it’s a huge relief to listen to bestselling authors, actors and musicians talk about all the times everything in their life didn’t go perfect — and everything this taught them. It’s a grounding, reassuring listen that our heroes were once just people who were taking a chance. And often still are.
I came across the story of Aishetu Fatima Dozie, which I thought was an interesting example of making a dramatic career shift because it feels right for you. After many years in finance, Aisha, as she’s called (and no, I’m not partial just because we share a name. Okay, maybe a little), has recently founded Bossy Cosmetics. How do you go from money to makeup? Aisha makes it look easy. No impostor syndrome here. And I think there’s an important lesson in not telling ourselves, women in particular, we can only have one career. We’re allowed to change our minds and choose our paths as many times as we like. Also, look at these lipsticks!!😍😍😍 Ladies, please be bossy. Please.
Finally, the Lyari boxing girls of Karachi are so badass. In one of the city’s most violent neighbourhoods, in a part of the world where it’s especially difficult to be a woman, these girls are learning how to fight. To protect themselves, because they plain enjoy it and to be more than who they are expected to — young wives and mothers. Sport is a great way to improve confidence, to develop a sense of self. To remind yourself that you are strong and powerful and worthy.
I know this because my grandfather bought me a pair of boxing gloves when I was 14 because I asked for them and took me to the local timber market to get sawdust so I could fill the punching bag. I stuck with the activity for a while and did karate for a few years later. I even competed professionally and won a couple of medals. There are photos somewhere. Both sports taught me I can go beyond what I think I’m capable of and there is nowhere I can’t make a place for myself.
Can we take a quick moment to clap for Chloé Zhao who won Best Director in the Golden Globes this year. She is only the second woman to ever win the award (the first was Barbara Streisand nearly 40 years ago) in its 78-year history. Does that strike anyone else as a little ridiculous?
And speaking of sports, this goes back to 2010 but Bilqis Abdul-Qaadir became the first woman to wear a hijab during NCAA Division I basketball in the United States. This visibility is important for young women to feel seen, to remind them of their right to choose and for those decisions to be accepted, to show them there is a place for them in sport, in public, even if this isn’t what they’ve grown up believing. She’s launched this too.
The most attractive person in a room is rarely the most good looking. But they are almost always the most confident. They 100 percent have insecurities too — about how they look, where they come from, which school they went to, what their accent is like. They’ve just chewed them up, spat them out and turned up anyway whether anyone approves of them or not.
So whatever you’ve been dragging your feet about because you don’t feel ready for or don’t think you’re good enough for or don’t think you’re the right person for — you know what I’m going to say. None of it is true! Yes, good things sometimes take time and it’s fine to allow them to become what they need to, to allow yourself space to become who you need to, but just make sure you’re not what’s holding you back.
It’s more often our own limiting ways of thinking that keep us stuck in decision paralysis. You have everything you need right now to start what you want exactly where you are.
A good read about how you might never feel just right to do something but should do it anyway is this piece by Emma Warren. And this more generic but still useful one in TIME.
You’re not a sham. You’re so so real. Every little bit of you. And maybe, it’s the “real-ness” of you that scares you, that scares the world. Because what if you allowed yourself to be authentic. What if you gave yourself permission to be as awesome as you are? Who would that make you? How fantastic would you be?
All that’s standing between you finding out is you.
Shake off that impostor syndrome. There’s no place for it in your life.
xx
AA
This one (like most of your other pieces) hit home. I definitely struggle with this. I have attended several seminars on this topic to understand the different variants of imposter syndrome - trying to be perfect, needing ALL the info before making a decision, considered weak for asking help, and several more. The point that resonated most is that even successful people go through this. I often get told on confessing my imposter syndrome "But, you're so smart and successful". Last thing I want to hear. Least helpful. Thanks for sharing, yet again!