About 7 years ago I was applying for a job in Savannah, GA. They went to great lengths to show me around and make sure I knew what the job was about. Finally they stuck me on a boat for part of the day so I could see it all first hand. The plan was to let me run the boat around a bit then go pick up the VP.
Scratch that.
He's here.
Right now.
The Vice President of the company.
Needless to say my anxiety levels hit the roof! What am I doing here? I've never even touched the controls on this boat. I haven't handled a barge in over 6 years. I'm gonna botch this. I should just go home.
Too late. He's on the boat. The task was simple. Turn the barge 180 degrees, head down river and tie it off in the fleet. Which I did flawlessly. At that point I had been working on boats for 19 years, and most boats basically handle the same. He told me in less than 5 minutes that he could tell that I knew what I was doing.
Damn straight!
Of course I knew what I was doing. I had been doing it for 19 years at that point. So what the hell happened?
IMPOSTOR SYNDROME
First off, I didn't know that word could be spelled 2 different ways. This is the way my computer doesn't have the dreaded red wavy line, so off we go...
Impostor syndrome is that nagging anxiety-ridden feeling you get that everyone knows what's going on but you. Me. That someone is going to realize I don't know what the hell I'm doing and I'm gonna get sent back to the first grade. There's apparently a class on Adulting I've missed that everyone else got, and once I find the textbook then the world is going to make sense.
Some people think this comes from our childhood. From when we were young enough to think our parents knew everything and we did not. Then hopefully someday when we are like them we will know what's going on. Except we never quite get there. I remember being in Kindergarten and thinking the 6th graders were so big. But when I got to the 6th grade I didn't feel so big. Same with junior high. And high school. And now...
“The Meantime — n. the moment of realization that your quintessential future self isn’t ever going to show up, which forces the role to fall upon the understudy, the gawky kid for whom nothing is easy, who spent years mouthing their lines in the wings before being shoved into the glare of your life, which is already well into its second act.”
— Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
WRAP. IT. UP.
I don't get impostor syndrome any more when it comes to driving a boat. But when it comes to art/music/writing/photography...that's a different story. I've been trying to change careers to something more creative. It's the same old struggle. Who am I to think I can take a good picture? Shoot video? Play guitar?
One thing to remember is we are all wired up basically the same. What one person can do another person can replicate. This is a blanket statement, of course, but it's generally true. That's why it's motivating for me to see someone doing something badly. Not that I like to see someone fail, but to see them have the courage to do something, even with the risk of failure. I've seen lots of artists who could...use a little more experience. So why can't I take a picture, shoot a video, or play guitar? Why can't you, too?
I don't want to leave my dreams up to other people who I think are more qualified or educated. The more people I meet the more I'm convinced we're all just winging it, and that's ok. Maybe we can all wing it together.
Written with StackEdit.