My Resolution for 2019? Overcoming Imposter Syndrome

I was sitting in the mulch with my legs crossed and my 1 year old son in my lap when the dreaded question came.

"What do you do for a living?"

Up to that point, I'd been enjoying myself. Sarah, the caregiver for the two girls that Millie, (my oldest child) had just befriended at the playground was an intelligent and easy going conversationalist, and it was nice getting to know her. Of course she asked the question.  They always did.

What did I do for a living?

I felt a sinking feeling.  

I did this watercolor illustration, called "out on a limb" when I was working on getting my book published.

Are we talking about what paid the bills?  Or what I DID, like with all my time when I wasn't taking care of the kids? Are we talking about what funded my health insurance?  Or what bought me my sanity, and sense of vocational purpose?

The truth is, between the hours of 8-6, I was fearlessly MOMMING.  With my baby bjorn flapping courageously in the wind, and more baby fluids than I like to admit donning my shirt, I spent my days cruising the playgrounds, kids museums, and supermarkets with my two children in tow.  But, in the evening I was transitioning into a new career.  On average I was putting in 5-6 hours of work a day, and I was even starting to earn a modest income from it, which is why I have no idea why I turned to Sarah and answered her.

"I don't have a job."

Ugh. I wanted to kick myself.  Sarah immediately corrected me because of course as we both know that caring for children IS a full time job, and an important one.   Ultimately, I still felt a sense of dissatisfaction though, because it wasn't the job I had chosen for myself.

I should note here that I have been a stay at home mom previously and been 100% rewarded by it. It's a hard ass role, and a worthy pursuit.  But this isn't an article about that. It's about how, after years of my dreaming of being a full time artist and writer,  I was suddenly incapable of telling people about it.

Between the hours of 8-6, I work for this man.  He's a pretty strict boss, but at least I get to go to work in my yoga pants.

So what was wrong with me? Why didn't I look at her, and say, "I'm an artist." Truthfully, it's because I felt like I would be lying.  Imposter syndrome- the sneaky suspicion that your accomplishments are really just luck and you are actually a phony who doesn't know what they're doing--- is common in many professions.  As an artist, I know I'm not alone in wondering if I'll ever really feel like I deserve to claim the title.

My husband didn't get it.  "But you ARE and artist." He pointed out, when I told him later that night about my conversation. "Did you think she wouldn't believe you?"

"Well, it's not paying the big bills yet." I pointed out.

"You published a book."  he reminded me. "Like, last month."

That was true too.  Why didn't I tell her about the book?  AHHH.  I'm the worst.

I totally did not even mention this.

Here's the weird thing-- I'm really excited about my new career, and I TOTALLY believe in myself.  I think that making stuff and writing stuff is what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I know I'm good at it, and I think I can be REALLY good at it if I put in the time to pursue professional development, learn from other artists, and practice every day.

 But society has trained me (and all of us) to downplay our accomplishments, and to avoid bragging. If you ask me to sing the praises of my best friend, I can spout off 50 reasons why she's the most incredible unicorn to ever walk the earth, but if you ask me to describe my best qualities, I'll murmur something self deprecating about crafting with glitter, and perhaps decoupage. And then, I'll remind everybody that I make art rather than clean my house, because GOD FORBID ANYONE THINK I'M BEING TOO BRAGGY ABOUT THE GLITTER, and also my career ambitions MUST be a reflection of my failed domesticity.

One of my fabric designs- "Persimmon Floral." I love this pattern, even despite its disappointing lack of glitter.

That day at the playground was a wake up call for me.  It took years of work, saving, and scraping for me to be able to even consider pursuing a creative career.  It's a temporary window, and it's frankly a privilege that many talented artists never have.  So, I'm not about to waste it.

In the months since that conversation, I've taken real steps into moving past my imposter syndrome.  I ran a successful holiday pop-up shop, which allowed me to do some market research and generate start up capital for my future business endeavors. I created an email listserv and posted to social media-- asking for people to support my creative efforts.  And--perhaps most importantly, I stepped into public, looked people directly in the eye, and told them I was an artist. 

In the year ahead of me, I'm taking things a step further.  For me, 2019 is the year I take on imposter syndrome, and crush it. Here are three ways I can start:

1. Oversharing on the internet.  I'm only partially joking about this.  Imposter syndrome fuels isolation, and I want the people in my community who are in my same boat to know that we're all in this together.  Also I want the people in my community to know that the baby fluids on their shirt are hardly noticeable, and that I think they have shimmery mermaid hair.

2. Working on my elevator pitch. Usually, when I'm meeting people for the first time, by the time I'm done introducing my work I can feel the shame and doubt start to creep over me. "They know you're full of shit!' imposter me says to real me. And then, real me is like, "Shut up imposter me! I hate you!" And then a nasty fight ensues after which we all must sneak chocolate ice cream directly from the carton in order to feel better. In 2019 I will work on developing a memorable 1-2 line explanation of what I do. I will practice this "elevator pitch" constantly until it becomes something can deliver smoothly. Once I feel comfortable describing--nay--PROMOTING my work, then I won't have to fight with myself about it, but I'll still probably sneak the chocolate ice cream cause it's the PERFECT DAYTIME FOOD.

3.  Not comparing myself constantly to my idols. Sometimes "staying current" in your field comes at the high cost of keeping up with your heros. In 2019 I will NOT call my sisters crying because I just listened to a Tyler Childers "tiny desk" concert and now I think I'm a terrible songwriter.  I will also NOT freak out and delete my instagram account because every surface in Holli Zollinger's house seems to be covered in attractive succulent arrangements, whereas mine seems to just be covered in yesterday's spaghetti noodles.  Instead, I will just repeat this to myself: I am not them.  They are not me. They were where I was once, and I am lucky to have them.  

So that's it.  That's what's going to happen. I'll keep you posted on my progress as I tackle my self doubt, and PLEASE let me know if you need some love in order to overcome yours.  In the meantime- I want to hear your best "elevator pitches" and/or your own experiences with imposter syndrome.  Post in the comments below, or on facebook.  I'll be in the kitchen, sneaking some chocolate ice cream :)