Fighting Back Against Imposter Syndrome

The Gods of Google may tell you that “Imposter Syndrome” is an experience of repeated thoughts where you believe you are not good enough, competent enough, or you believe you don’t belong among the others. You may feel like a fake, a fraud, or like you are simply a child playing pretend in a world of put-together grown-ups. Okay, maybe that last sentence came from me and not from the internet. Pour your morning coffee, let’s talk this out.

This is not a foreign feeling, but a familiar one. At this point, it is most likely just imbedded in my Nuro-pathways, becoming a Go-To thought. My brain, sadly set on autopilot. When I was 12-years old, I was bumped up from a recreational dance class into a competition dance class. I was the youngest. In a room filled with high school girls who were anywhere from 15-years old to 17-years old, I was still playing with Barbies. I was the extremely socially awkward kid in class who could keep up physically but was unable to add to the conversation. I knew I didn’t belong and so did they. I may have had the talent to take the stage with them, but I didn’t have any friends under that spotlight.

I had the same uneasy feelings of not belonging the day I was pulled from JV cheerleading and placed into Varsity. I was only in the 10th grade, while most of the girls were seniors. I remember sitting in the hallway with my friend, Veronica, as she sat crying because she didn’t make the Varsity squad. All I could think was, “Why did I?”

Even as a 40-year-old, this past week felt no different. As I shared in a recent blog, I was given a golden opportunity to take a large step forward in a company that is extraordinary. It hasn’t even been a year yet, where I packed up my life, moved to a new state, started a new job, and carved a new path. 10-months. That’s all it’s been. And here we are, standing with my feet on another brand-new path. I spent the last 48-hours feeling honored (and terrified) to be able to take my seat at a table filled with leaders. A hand-picked group of outstanding individuals that have come together to open another astonishing restaurant under the umbrella of a phenomenal company. It’s been a race against time for the construction workers, electricians, chefs, bartenders, severs, managers, and more. But beyond the mess and stress that naturally comes from meeting Grand Opening deadlines, this team was solid. You saw so clearly how well everyone worked together, joined in minds, created ideas, and dove into action. I felt as if I was standing in a room filled with beautiful peacocks, with bright feathers, bold energy, and a confidence you couldn’t miss. I also felt like I was a teeny-tiny baby chick, newly hatched, pretending I also had Peacock feathers. The reality is, I had no idea how to take initiative. I spent all day yesterday asking everyone around me, “What can I do to be helpful?” It was embarrassing, to say the least.

After a good cry and a pep talk from my always powerful husband, I realized that I am still that 12-year-old girl in the back of dance class, trying to figure out how to bond with a room of freshman. Perhaps this is something I need to heal? It is my personal belief that in order to truly heal something, you need to go all in. Like a cut. If you have a cut on your skin, a deep one at that, you will need to go all the way into that cut, to clean it properly and get the puss out. You cannot just put a Band-Aid over a deep cut. It will get infected. Covering it up, does nothing long term. Go in and disinfect. That’s what this morning has been for me. Emotionally disinfecting an old wound.

Whether I am 12 or 40, the root of all this is the same; I continue to put pressure on myself to be someone I’m not. In this specific restaurant group, there is an abundance of strong, alpha-female leaders. I’m talking Baddies. Queens. Women that I am in awe of. The irony is, my family tree is identitcal. I come from a long line of tough leading ladies. It’s in my DNA, but it just doesn’t seem to want to come out of me anymore. I did a longggggggg time ago, but between you and I, it was more forced out of me than poured out. There was a time I truly wanted to be just like my Mom, my sister, my Aunt, cousins, or whoever. They are all so fierce. I don’t feel fierce. At least not anymore. With every passing year, I grow softer, quieter, and calmer. I just want peace.

So why was I invited into this promotion? Beats me. But I’ve decided this morning to CHOOSE what I will bring to the table. I cannot magically morph into the others, but I can still provide some magic. As the new restaurant opens and the staff also begins to find their own footing, I will be there to offer a safe space for questions, fears, and mistakes. Trainees are safe in my presence. My goal is to be that sprinkle of love and support during a time that can feel so overwhelming for many. I don’t know how to “Girl Boss,” but I do know how to comfort. And that is what I’m bringing to the table.

Maybe we are all imposters at different times in our life. Pretending to have it together, to be living our #bestlives on social media, filtering every photo oh so carefully. But we also have the power to break that spell. To stand up and yell, “I have no f**king idea what I’m doing and it’s okay!” All we can do is tap into what we believe our gifts are and offer that, without making it wrong or believing our gifts are not enough.

My gift may not be “Bad-Bitch.” But I give the best hugs you could imagine. And sometimes….in the middle of new restaurant chaos, a hug can go a long way.