I’m trying to write a book.
I say “trying”, because I’ve written down thousands of words only to close the file, close the application, and shelve it. Repeatedly. Predictably. Sometimes for days, sometimes for months.
Here’s what happens.
It’s been done before.
The book on my mind — one that’s been rattling around for quite a while, centers on imposter syndrome, and specifically the feeling of being “too much” of something.
Mostly because my whole life I’ve been told I’m:
- Too overweight
- Too outspoken
- Too opinionated
- Too aggressive
- Too ambitious
- Too quirky
- Too lazy
- Too sensitive
- Too strong-willed
Or some variation of the above. It’s a special kind of imposter syndrome when the outside world is always telling you that you’re too much of something when in your heart and soul you never, ever feel like enough.
But I’m so afraid someone else has done it better than I have.
Brené Brown has built a veritable empire on the back of shame research, and the concept of showing up as our whole selves, bravely, without giving into the temptation to armor up, go on the defensive, and leave emotion on the side because it’s not “safe”.
So what do I possibly have to contribute to this topic?
I’m not a researcher. Or a psychologist. Or a billionaire.
Who on EARTH cares what I have to say?
Pushing Through
I’m trying really hard to keep writing. Even when it’s through tears, or when I’m shaking my head the whole time.
My beloved horseback riding trainer, Margaret, is always on my case about judging my less-than-perfect rides.
I’ll come up to a fence with my horse, miss, it ends up messy, and I shake my head all the way around the ring wallowing in my frustration rather than just setting it aside to ride the next one. “SO JUDGY,” she’ll call out. And she’s right.
I do this a lot, looking at all the reasons why I’m not qualified to write this thing. Or why no one will read it. Or why what I have to say isn’t valuable to anyone. Or why I’m going to fail, again, and not be able to recover from it this time. Or why I don’t have the “platform” (as the publishers say) or the influence or the anything to sell a book that anyone will remotely care about.
So in many ways, I’m the perfect meta case study for my own damned book.
Which of course makes me feel less qualified than ever. Who wants to hear from a person who is wrestling with this and hasn’t completely and neatly vanquished it yet, complete with a workbook and framework and online course to go with it?
“Too much” is simply the reflection of “not enough”. And maybe there’s value in us all navigating this together.
I’m still writing.
I don’t know if any of those words will ever see the light of day. My decision on that changes almost by the hour depending on the shades of worthlessness and self-doubt I’m feeling in the moment (thank GOD I have an amazing therapist).
In some ways, I’m the world’s worst advisor on this topic. In many ways, that might make me the best.
My experiment of removing myself from 3 of my 4 main social networks has had interesting color on this, which I’ll share soon. But suffice it to say that it’s both empowering to find new ways to spend your time, and scary when you take away an “audience” in favor of sitting with your own voice for a while.
I know I have a lot to share. I’m learning to accept that maybe – maybe – I have a unique voice and skill with which to share it. I’m still working on believing that, but I’m trying. It’s a daily conversation with myself.
If you’ve got stories about your own experiences with being too much or not enough, I’d love to hear from you. There’s a lot we can learn from each other.
In the meantime, that Scrivener icon is staring at me from the sidebar. Again. So I guess I’ll click, and see how unworthy – or not – I really am.
I’d be very interested in reading something from someone continuing to struggle with something I’m struggling with than someone who has conquered whatever it is or even worse, never truly experienced it.
That’s helpful to hear, Kristy. In some ways I’m hoping I can write the book I needed, one that isn’t just a bunch of academic data but shared from the perspective of someone who is flawed and searching for their place in the world, just like I am. 🙂
I’d be interested in reading about overcoming this, since I have struggled with it for years. For me, it’s always been “Why bother – someone has already written/painted/sculpted it. Nothing you do could possibly be unique enough to be worthy of acknowledgment.”
Yep, I relate to all of that! I’m starting to learn some strategies and while I don’t think I’ll ever have it completely nailed, I’m in a much more self-aware, healthy place than I’ve ever been and I want to be able to share some of what I’ve learned in the hope that it can help someone else.
I believe in you.
I’ve never met you in person, but we’ve conversed on Twitter and I’ve followed your blog for quite a while. I’ve seen you be raw and vulnerable and real. Not everybody has that kind of courage. The thing about facing your demons is that they’re never as big as you think because we always judge them by their shadows.
Write your book. Somebody needs to read it. Somebody needs the imperfect perspective that only you can bring. Somebody needs to hear your voice so they can say, “At last, somebody out there understands.” Going through hell leaves scars, but scars tell stories, and stories bind us together.
I believe in you. Unreservedly.
What a lovely, wonderful comment. Thank you so much for that. Sincerely. I feel sometimes like being open and vulnerable is just sort of basic and boring, and yet comments like this remind me that maybe my ability to do that is actually something useful that I can help others do, too. Maybe. 🙂
I wonder (thinking out loud) if one of the ways we overcome this feeling is by naming it aloud. I am always concerned when I voice the same feeling that it comes across as attention- or affirmation-seeking. And I know too well it might be. But so many of us feel this and don’t know what it is. It comes, in part, from the fact that if you are anywhere in the digital world at all every person in the world can see that it might be true – that I *am* an impostor. If for no one else, write it for you. And I’ll grab a copy too.
Having written and published two books, I can tell you that most publishers don’t know jack! All publishers do is print and distribute books. To generate interest and book sales, the author has to do all the heavy lifting. You have established a great platform over the years which is a strength and a serious plus in the +/- columns.
Also, credentials don’t mean s%&t. The best coaches are seldom the best players BUT they know how to get people to perform at a higher level.
If you have a burning desire to get that information out of your head and onto paper, you’ll do it.
Write the book!
Just looking at your TOO list above. How many of those are because you are a woman? Like we all struggle with this kind of stuff but too many times, in too many places women get told these things when men don’t.
I’m struggling to find my own place in the world and my own peace.
You have an audience you’ve built, you have supporters in that audience and more.
Don’t underestimate yourself, and get the job done. For yourself and for those who will be helped by what you can bring to the table.