I’ve grown disturbingly comfortable with talking myself up.
I say “disturbing” because it goes against everything my inner idiot constantly mutters in the background: who cares what you think, you’re no expert and the inevitable you’re totally making this up as you go along, aren’t you?
Well, yeah, I am.
I go through the motions and try not to think about it. Fence, sew, write like I know what I’m doing to trick myself into being the expert I’m pretending to be. On very good days I believe it, but every misstep is a cue for the inner idiot to hiss in my ear again.
It’s called “impostor syndrome” and I provide no links as you all know how to Google. The job search has me bumping up against it even more than usual.
Promoting the as-yet-unfinished book (and by extension, myself) is extra practice at silencing the inner idiot so I can get through interviews without sweating through my suit.
So, as in every other facet of my life, practice makes perfect (or, at least, better). Anyone else out there feel like they’re just winging it through life? How do you get through that?
There’s something to be said for the “fake it till you make it” cliche, I suppose. I have yet to be interviewed, to my dismay, but perhaps when my book comes out people will take an interest. For me I just keep promoting my current work, and promoting the other people I enjoy reading. I find that being more outward-focused helps me cope with the fears of “who the hell am I, anyway?” You’re not alone.
Y`know, it was just earlier this week (weekly Tuesday morning dept. head meeting to be exact) that somebody told me I was “amazing” and my response was, with a big grin on my face, “Yes, I am.” (because I knew I darn well was, having earlier that morning finally pried some info out of a client that various people have been trying to get them to give us for nigh on three years!)
Most stuff in life, yeah, I’ve always winged it, still do, and always will (heck, I even ended up a cataloguer purely by accident … I was aiming for reference work). But at some point in my professional life my brain quietlyy clicked over into the realization that when it comes to cataloguing and related skills I am d*mned good (far better than I would have been at reference, in my now much more experienced opinion) and there’s no reason to pretend otherwise. I couldn’t say when this happened other than it had to have been sometime in the 90s but I do know when I realized it had happened. I can recall perfectly, in the late 80s, having been petrified at having to be a last minute emergency presenter at an interlibrary software meeting when the person who was supposed to do it called in sick that morning (and it was software I was very familiar and comfortable with). But in 2000, having won provincial profession award and knowing I was going to have to get up on a podium and make an acceptance speech in front of an entire conference, I was honest-to-goodness shocked to find myself blasé about the whole thing, to the point where I blew off any preparations and winged that speech on the podium (and rocked it) … no issues with confidently talking in front of a crowd (a much much bigger one than that long ago meeting) about what I know best at all. Weird. But I’ve been going with it ever since (figure I’ve got to keep this miraculous transformation exercised and fit). I was certainly glad of this mental change when, three years later, I was laid off and having to do the job hunting/interview thing … it made the whole thing SO much easier than it had been twenty years previously.
We all have things we know or do well and there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging it, provided it’s done honestly and not as obnoxious boastfulness. (this excludes, of course, being delusional about being an “expert” on something one isn’t). Modesty and self-effacing have their place, certainly, but the résumé, cover letter and job interview are instances where it’s more than alright to say (in a calm voice and with a straight face) “I am great at [thing].” And mean it.
Should add that part of this is that the other part of that brain “click” is that I also have no problem with also stating which things I’m bad at doing; unfortunately that’s where I end up with the aggravation of having to convince people that I really AM crap at [thing] and not “just saying that” … ARRGGHHH!!!
I think it helps to remember 1) we’re all kind of faking it. That mythical time in which we feel like a GrownUp(TM) is a myth, and 2) being in the moment and just Doing The Thing without overthinking it makes a huge difference in managing the inner idiot.
Does that outward focus help short-circuit the overthinking that leads to “WTF am I doing”?
For me, it did. If I can focus on other people, and I can see with a more objective eye that what I’m doing is helpful, entertaining, or otherwise positive, then it provides a measure of feedback. Should that fail, and what I’m doing is not helpful, entertaining, or is negative, then rather than confirm “WTF am I doing,” I’ve learned to not fall into that trap and say, “obviously I need a different tack with this person.” The outward focus shifts not to affirm or assuage my fears, but to be a sounding board for what I really already knew in the first place.
It’s better for me to get out of my own head and argue with the doubt with evidence and observation.
(Sneaking in on my lunch break because I just catalogued this) Newly published this week: “Take pride : why the deadliest sin holds the secret to human success” by Jessica Tracy (http://www.hmhco.com/shop/books/Take-Pride/9780544273177)