I’ve built websites for 5 years now.
Let me start again… I’ve become an amateur WordPress guru over the past 5 years.
I can manipulate HTML code to change font colors, update CSS files to alter font sizes, and make fancy buttons to ease call-to-action functionality. I also know how to write.
But that didn’t stop the dread from creeping in.
A con man in high heels
I was glad we were talking on the phone, not Zoom. I could feel my face flush and the voice inside my head taunting, “Why is she talking to YOU? Come clean and tell her that you’re in over your head. Refer her to a REAL expert. Not like you. With your little website hobby.”
I kept talking to my client. Kept right on advising her. While trying to maintain my normal conversational cadence. She ended the call with, “That was so helpful! You really listened to my concerns and broke down the next steps into actionable items.”
Well, that’s a relief. I managed to fool her!
The internal battle raged the rest of the day. Then I couldn’t sleep. Too panicked and worried I was doing something unethical, immoral – a con man in high heels.
Like I was charging money for a service I pretended to offer. Perhaps I owed her a refund and an apology for wasting her time.
Never mind that she saw it differently. She was pleased a friend had referred her to me. She was getting what she needed.
She was looking for me to guide her, to talk her through the best way to organize her thoughts online. But who am I? I know tons of people who are way more qualified to do this than me.
Or are they?
It’s hard to tell. I’ve read their material. I’ve seen their work. And I’ve leaned on them to proof my own writing. Which is probably why I was wallowing in the confusion about whether I’m legit to advise on such things.
Wrestling with imposter syndrome
I was suddenly the textbook example of imposter syndrome, according to the Harvard Business Review.
“‘Imposters’ suffer from chronic self-doubt and a sense of intellectual fraudulence that override any feelings of success or external proof of their competence. They seem unable to internalize their accomplishments, however successful they are in their field. High achieving, highly successful people often suffer, so imposter syndrome doesn’t equate with low self-esteem or a lack of self-confidence. In fact, some researchers have linked it with perfectionism, especially in women and among academics.”
Until I talked to a graphic designer. Who told me she farms out her own graphic design projects. Seriously? But you’re an expert! Why would you pay someone else to do something you can do for yourself?
Because, she said, everyone needs a thought partner.
The fraudulent feeling began to dissipate.
Recognizing my abilities
A thought partner… Yes, that’s a title I will gladly claim. Someone who brings an outside perspective. Who offers objectivity. Who has worked across industries and noticed trends. I do all of those things, with the tactical skills of copywriting and WordPress savvy.
I felt freer. I felt lighter. I stared the imposter syndrome square in the face and challenged it to back down.
The next client call, I felt the negative thoughts creeping back in. I thought of the graphic designer, I thought about my 5 years of experience, I thought about the social proof that comes with the word-of-mouth referrals I’ve received, and I breathed deep.
I pulled myself into the present moment and listened to the challenges my client wanted me to address. Then I reflected on what she said, offering the insights I’ve gained over the years. To bring her exactly what she needed – someone to be with her during her own journey, someone to validate that her own skills are legit, someone to cheerlead when she, too, feels the dread begin.
What about you? Ever been here before? What do you do when imposter syndrome comes calling?
Photo credit: Charles Deluvio on unsplash.com