I struggle a lot with impostor syndrome. No matter how hard I try, it infiltrates everything I do – everything I write personally, academically or professionally (hi, there’s a reason I haven’t written a blog post in about two years). It makes me doubt myself at work. It makes me worry about my interpersonal relationships – why would I have friends? Someone like me?
It’s bullshit folks.
I was talking to my therapist (yep, still in therapy. gonna be in therapy forever. i’m okay with it) about why i don’t keep the blog up. And the honest answer is because I don’t know if I have anything of worth to say. No, this is not me asking for reassurance- so please spare me the you have so much to say, your voice is valid stuff: rational me knows that. Rational me knows that I write and write well, that I can actually turn a phrase when I put my mind to it; however, the crazy broad that shares the brain space with rational me thinks her skills are garbage and that broad is LOUD. Like church giggles loud. It’s bad. I can’t hear over her taunting me with how trash I am.
But here I am. I’m writing this even if I think it’s a trash fire. I’ll post it and share it to Facebook and send out the link – even if I think it’s junk. Because quite honestly, at the end of the day, I’m better than the voice in my head. I can choose to listen or not. And today isn’t a listening day.
I’ve got better stuff to do.
it's a delicate struggle 