Thank you, Imposter Syndrome

Dear Imposter Syndrome, 

You’ve been my companion for as long as I can remember. I know we all have core wounds, and a big one for me is around belonging. Perhaps that’s what birthed you originally. Regardless of when you first showed up, I know that I’ve seen your imprint on my life. 

When I was a young child afraid to play with others, and chose sitting quietly to observe instead. That was you telling me, "They won’t like you." 

The nervousness I had when presenting – that was you again, telling me I wasn’t going to be articulate or have anything worthy to say. 

Then again at every transition in my life, every last mile before achieving a milestone – you were always there telling me that it was too scary to take the leap, or that I didn’t have what it takes to make it. 

As I was making the decision to start working on Sunflower Wellness Initiative, there you were again. I felt you in my body and I knew it was you. The tension in my stomach, the sinking of my heart that followed every exciting idea about what Sunflower could be -- oh, and the over thinking! Considering every angle of each part of the decision: “Should I? How would I? What about? What if? Should I?” My mind was buzzing like a hive of bees trying to stock up before an impending long winter. 

This time, Imposter Syndrome, something shifted for me. 

You see, I’ve tried so long to get rid of you. I thought it was about confidence, self-worth, or internalized negative appraisals others had of me. I’ve read articles about you. They all talk about how often people struggle with imposter syndrome even if they are clearly high achievers who, like myself, have multiple degrees decorating their walls. I’ve tried the strategies they promoted and worked on my internalized shame (a la Brené Brown). I definitely grew and felt your pull less over the years. Yet here you were again, at the start of Sunflower, rocking my mental and emotional boat and making it hard for me to figure out which way to steer. 

In the midst of this tempest, I delivered two talks. One was at a professional conference to describe an intervention I developed to do with some of my clients. (Yes, I stared long and hard before I was able to type “I developed”). The second was a spiritual talk at my local mosque.  It was through the experiences of preparing and delivering these talks that I began to reconsider my stance towards you, Imposter Syndrome. 

You see, my relationship with the microphone has been fraught. When I was young I remember people wanted me to speak at gatherings. I was a born storyteller, and I translated that onto the “stage” and people liked that someone so young was so engaging. Truth be told, I liked the attention. 

I mean, let’s be real! It feels good to hear that your work connected with someone and made a difference to them. Audience feedback is essential any good work. Yet, for someone like me, who carries a wound around belonging that attention coming at me with such force in my late teens and early twenties was almost intoxicating; it was amplifying parts of me that made me uncomfortable. I could feel it in my body. I was impatient to speak and my manner demanded others listen to what I had to say. I could feel my ears close when others would start to share their perspectives, thinking “oh, I don’t have anything to learn from them”. I began to expect people to see it my way. The whispers of arrogance were in my ear, and the opinions of others stuck to me. I felt like a duck in an oil spill – increasingly hindered while all I wanted to do was fly. 

Through a series of events, God sent me on a journey both outwardly and inwardly. Part of that journey was the conscious decision to walk away from the microphone and from positions of leadership being offered to me. During those years, I sat with myself. I returned to observing. I confronted some of my wounds. I focused on clarifying and grounding myself in my purpose. 

The decision to start Sunflower is also a decision to come back to the microphone – so the prep for these two talks that I recently delivered also brought up all my feelings about the stage. 

Here, in that intersection, after having done all this internal work – I found you Imposter Syndrome, not as the bane of my existence, not as the foe that needed to be fought, but as a savior. You stood close and said:

“I’ll help balance you.” 
“In the face of others putting you on a pedestal, I will remind you that isn’t your true identity. I will help you work earnestly, to check yourself, and make your work better. In the middle of the seductive pull of likes, shares, and views, I will help you focus on your purpose.” 

I leaned on you, Imposter Syndrome, in those early months of putting together the frame of what I wanted to accomplish through Sunflower: To empower each of us to share the bit of wisdom that we have for the benefit of the rest of us. 

So… thank you, Imposter Syndrome, for helping me keep my heart open, helping me stay humble, and helping me make room at the table for voices other than mine. 

To many more years of walking together, 

Sincerely, 
Fatima