Imposter Syndrome

I've been thinking a lot about Imposter Syndrome the past week.

It's so easy to compare ourselves to everyone else through the plethora of social media bombarding us. It's easier than ever to compare ourselves. There also is inspiring and informative information that we can glean from other people on these platforms, but we have to utilize it the right way, in the right mindset to be able to find the information.

During these social-distancing guidelines, I have found myself on social media much more than my own normal habit. I use it to connect to other practitioners in my field, to read others' research, and to post information that I find interesting or that I think will be useful to clients or other teachers and therapists. However, by increasing my usage of these media platforms, I feel an old familiar, nagging comparison habit creeping up.

At times, everyone else's judgments seem to matter more than our own. Others' validation seems to be what deems us "worthy" or "successful".

But truly, that can only ever come from within.

As a dancer, we are taught to perform for others, for the artistic director, the choreographer, the audience. As a perfectionist, we are our own worst critics. As both, well, we can simply drive ourselves crazy, never feeling that we are good enough.

This is where I have found it helpful to find the term "imposter syndrome". Years ago when I came across this term it felt like something clicked, it made sense. This was what I was feeling. Imposter Syndrome tends to be a common feeling among successful people, that even with external evidence of accomplishments, one feels like a fraud, or less successful than everyone else, that all their accomplishments are due to luck more than personal achievement, and that one day everyone will find out their con.

When we look up to others, we see and emphasize the incredible work and success they have achieved, yet within ourselves, we know our own struggles, lack of confidence, or lack of understanding. We compare the other person's highlight reel to our own outtakes reel, and this is what social media can easily manipulate. Even individuals who we label as extremely successful, such as Michelle Obama, Maya Angelou, Neil Armstrong, and Tom Hanks, reportedly have dealt with Imposter Syndrome.

I now more often feel confident in what I do, knowing I have a passion for it, I help people, and I deeply understand the body and what it needs. On other days I slide back into worrying that I'll never be as good as everyone else, and all my clients and colleagues will realize I'm a fraud, with no idea what I'm talking about.

That definitely interferes with working at my true potential. Some days before I start teaching for the day I worry I won't be able to give good classes that day, that my clients will not reschedule because they'll finally realize I'm a waste of time or money. I worry that if a client doesn't feel strong, if their injury isn't healing, or if they are continuing to have pain that I'm not good at what I do, that if the client doesn't like my movement style or doesn't want more sessions, and if a client tells me about another class or instructor that they also like, then I'm not good enough. Then comparison and perfectionism sneak back in to say "if I'm not the best then what's the point"?

So much pressure to put on one person! It's so self-centered too because none of that really has anything to do with me or my knowledge as an instructor. And if I'm worried about that, I can't focus my full attention to the client in front of me and what they need.

So in response, maybe we have to put ourselves aside and see how we can be of service to others, remember what we're grateful for, and focus the mind on a project such as reading, writing, drawing, or analyzing something. Give the monkey mind something to do and it'll leave us alone for a while. Worry is a hobby of the idle mind. It's so easy for it to take over, and then it runs rampant.

As a dancer, it was almost impossible to stand up for myself or use my voice. Ballerinas are traditionally expected to disciplined, perfect, and quiet. When I first started teaching I slowly learned to find my voice. Now, after many years of teaching using that voice, entering into my thirties, I am starting to learn how to use that voice for myself.

Not good enough, enough, enough. What is enough anyway? What is success? Maybe it's only what we make of it, only what it looks like to ourselves. And maybe that doesn't even matter.

We're all in this together. And honestly, no one is really thinking of us because mostly they're all too busy worrying about what others are thinking of them.

We are enough.