Dear Imposter Syndrome,
Oh, there you are. We've met a few times in the past. Very few times... so forgive me, but I am a bit unfamiliar with the way your rattle through my stomach and make me doubt if I belong in whatever 'success' the world has placed in my lap. It feels... uncomfortable to be in your presence, Imposter Syndrome. It feels... wrong. Do I have an Imposter Syndrome about having an Imposter Syndrome!? I wonder. You sure are a heavy pill to swallow, so it seems. The moment you show up - my mind starts racing with thoughts: It was just luck. I don't belong there! No, there's got to be a mistake here. Wait, you mean I'm seen? Like, for real?? Little ole' me??? With every question my mind goes to, my stomach fills with emotions... with doubt... with fear... with excitement... Strangely, I feel fueled by you. Are you the messenger of good news, Dear Imposter Syndrome? Should I accept you with open arms, or dread your arrival? Or maybe I should stop using 'should' in a sentence altogether. How about I soften into the feeling you bring along without asking millions of questions? Maybe you are this milestone that comes and signals to me: ' It's okay. You are here. You have arrived. You belong.' ...And my mind has to catch up to believe it. Maybe you are that NUDGE my mind needs in order to believe in me, to believe in us, and together we will discover a new phase in the 'Belonging' theme of my life. Maybe you belong to me. Maybe you are a part of me. Maybe suddenly I don't feel that rattling in my stomach anymore. Maybe suddenly - you are not so uncomfortable anymore. Sincerely, Lil' ole' invisible me.
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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Header Art: Daniel Landerman |