Gather round.
I’ll let you into a secret…
…
…
I don’t know what I’m doing!
There. I said it. Now you all know. Now you can all ignore me or maybe write some supportive platitudes whilst silently sniggering at my ineptitude. And it’s OK. I get that. You came last in the egg and spoon race, but here’s a medal for taking part. That’s how things are now, aren’t they?
I’ve committed to doing something completely outside my comfort zone. I’ve agreed to post something every day for a month. So, in the way of the true impostor, rather than posting it somewhere that people can find it (like LinkedIn) I’ll instead post to some totally anonymous blog buried so deep in the internet that only those with whom I share a link will ever get to see it!
I’m not sure I’ve ever not felt like an impostor. Regardless of what I’ve done or what I’ve achieved, I’ve never quite felt like I deserved it.
Yet in the cock-measuring contest of life I should be able to stand proudly and hold my own (not literally)!!!
By most people’s standards I’ve done well. I quit working for a living at 45 and have spent the last 11 years doing pretty much what the hell I want! I love to learn. I love finding out things. I get a buzz from events (some huge and some small and magical) and I’ve done everything from Burning Man to the Do Lectures and lots in between! Events like these open my mind to new ideas, experiences and possibilities and I’ve got to meet some amazing people in the process.
However I always feel like I have no right being at any of these places. Like I’ve just sort of bought my way into a club where really I don’t belong.
A few days ago I bumped into someone I’d met at one of these events a couple of years earlier. I recognised her but couldn’t place where I knew her from (having a terrible memory for names and faces reinforces the discomfort of an impostor!) She reminded me that we had sat around a fire and talked one evening. She said that during that conversation she told me how she felt trapped in a rut and couldn’t see any way out. I had apparently given her some ideas and a fresh perspective and possibly even some direct advice. She thanked me for having that conversation with her. She told me that afterwards she had thought a lot about what I had said that evening and had acted on the advice I’d given her and as a result she was no longer stuck, had changed course and had experienced an amazing year of learning and growth.
I should feel good about that. I should see that in whatever small or large way, something I said or did made a positive difference to someone else’s life. That should be enough. Surely that is proof that I am not completely winging it?
Nah. That’s bollocks. That was just down to luck! I’m pretty sure that anyone else I’ve ever tried to give helpful advice to must have finished up homeless!
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