The Wanderer's Corner

Tag: imposter

  • It’s Not a Race

    It’s Not a Race

    So why am I enduring? Is there even a finish line?

    I keep coming back to “Why am I here?” when everything in my body is screaming that this isn’t what you want.

    Screaming you aren’t happy.

    Screaming your physical and mental space is telling you over and over again that this isn’t where you are meant to be.

    But Black women are commended for enduring.

    We are held as champions for pushing through, not to an actual finish line, but for continuing to run on a Sisyphean road that never ends and always takes the long way around.

    There is no ribbon to break through to finally say, “we finished.”

    We never completed. We just endured.

    The world celebrated that we stayed, showed up, cared for, paid for, rode until we died and threw us parties for years as our bodies crumbled under the weight of endurance.

    I had to ask myself “Why?”

    It was because I didn’t want to be that woman. The one who cut everyone off without giving them a chance. The one who kept jumping ship and would have to explain on LinkedIn why the perception wasn’t the reality. Because I wanted to support my people and community.

    If I just held on a little longer it would turn around. They may see my worth. They may stop lying about me. They may finally include me.

    But it was really just people pleasing.

    A way to avoid the difficult conversations and avoid disappointment.

    Because how do you say no when it’s so easy to say yes, despite you not wanting to to say yes? How do you walk away when your gifts can benefit them, but you gain no reciprocity?

    Endure – suffer, tolerate, continue in the same state,
    “to remain in existence” without growth.

    What happens when I choose not to endure?
    When I choose to no longer remain in existence, but to thrive in a lived experience?

    Things do not fall apart.

    The world spins, even more dazzling than before.

    Boundaries set and enforced by me (because it’s not someone else’s job to enforce your boundaries).

    Yes, they may be disappointed. Yes, they may need to figure it out without me.

    But what I have found is not rooted in a need for me to suffer.

    It’s rooted in peace.

  • The Imposter Syndrome – A Personal Journey

    Recently, thanks to my own executive coach (because even the coach needs a coach. She’s wonderful), I’ve been reading “The Empress Has No Clothes” by Joyce Roche. It’s a wonderful book about how many times when we achieve success, we feel inadequate or like we didn’t deserve it. We feel that we aren’t deserving of such success and that we will be “found out.” I have spoken to many people and this is a phenomenon that transcends gender or race. It’s a problem not just applicable to corporate America. It’s that feeling that when we meet our graduate school classmates and one founded some billion-dollar start-up and the other rescues bald eagles on the weekends that we are the charity admissions case. I have coached more than one women entering business school with a non-traditional background, i.e. not consulting or finance, who has minimized her efforts. I have spoken to young men who feel they aren’t good enough despite evidence to the contrary.

    In Joyce’s book, she talks about the syndrome as a need to work ever harder and prove your value. I have the syndrome, but in some ways I did the opposite. I knew I didn’t belong and set myself up for failure. I self-sabotaged and always waited for the other shoe to drop. I would leave assignments have finished, or procrastinate, or just do things to so that expectations would be lowered. When people spoke of my talent, I didn’t believe them. Deep down inside, I didn’t feel I deserved what I had, so externally I made myself look like what my internal felt.

    I can remember very vividly when I received my last job. The EVP was extremely excited for me to join and spoke very highly of me. Yet, inside I didn’t believe that I was capable or worthy. I could name half a dozen people who would have the drive and the ability to succeed. My first thought was not “Heck yeah you want me on your team because I’m amazing,” but it was “Darn, what if I completely fail at this? I have no idea what I am doing.”

    This syndrome is different than insecurity. The hard part is that we know we are talented. We just believe we aren’t “good enough” or just aren’t as talented as the next person. We believe, despite all the external evidence to the contrary, that we are fraudsters, waiting until someone calls us out for having no clothes on.

    There is no singularly way to let go of the feeling. In her book, several of the essays take a multitude of approaches. Some turn to yoga, some have an epiphany, some turn to therapy. For me, here’s what work. The first step in overcoming the syndrome is to admit that you have those feelings. Share them. Find people, your alma mater, a networking group. Meet with them regularly. Discuss your feelings. Journal (blog like I am) but find a safe way to discuss it.

    The second step is to figure out a plan to fight it. Every case is different, but work with someone to create a plan. Create steps that you can measure, that are small.

    The third step is the hardest – list out every single accomplishment you have had over the last five, 10, lifetime. List out all of the wonderful things people have said about you. Keep it in a book. Write it down. Make it count. Realize that you did all of these things because of the talents you possess. Make a dream board.

    Additionally, there are several very good articles including this wonderful list by Joyce herself – http://shriverreport.org/10-ways-to-overcome-impostor-syndrome-joyce-roche/

    So what about me? I wish I could say that things changed suddenly, but like everyone else it is a journey. But I can tell that they have changed and that feels better than having no clothes.