A few years ago (pre-C) I was invited to join a table for the Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend fundraiser for the Women For Challenge. This is a charity that supports the mothers of children going through treatment for cancer, offering them retreats, support, information and respite. When the day finally rolled around we had been locked up and masked and socially isolated for over two years. The process of finding something to wear that was a whole outfit (no ‘Zoom screen top only, elastic waisted’ set up for this event) was a novelty. Hair and makeup skills have never been in my repertoire, thank goodness for my artistic friend who swept me up, clicked her fingers and transformed me from desk based homebody into a diamond ready for the ball!
I was feeling way out of my depth surrounded by the glitz but the thrill of the night away was a drug to this socially starved being. As we walked through the door at Crown we were met by a couple holding out trays of rings. The gleaming gold and diamonds were all sizes and all styles and they were free. They even had my size (farming fingers, broad knuckles, if you’re curious).
It all seemed too good to be true. And, of course, it was. Well, it was all too good to be real. Those rings, obviously fake, are still so beautiful! I couldn’t stop holding up my hand and gazing at the prettiness of it in a move reminiscent of when I first wore my engagement ring. I didn’t care that it was not a genuine diamond. What matters to me is that it looks pretty, fits my finger, and brings me fizzy, glittering joy.
All was more than well in my world and I pranced into the ball on my heels with a sparkling smile that matched the ‘diamond’ on my hand. We had an incredible night. Daryl Braithwaite sang to us. The Women of Challenge shared stories that brought us to tears and reminded me why this generous charity must continue to be supported.
That ball was mere days after I first came home. It’s been a year (can you believe it?) since I walked out the door of the hospital (to the sound of ‘these boots are made for walkin’) and into the wide world of dream-chasing and purpose-finding and self-employment. Can you believe it? I haven’t regretted a single moment of that choice (phew). And I haven’t been idle nor retired as so many people have asked cheekily. In fact, in many ways I’ve been busier and my weeks fuller than what they were before taking the leap into the unknown. I’ve written my book, I’ve started this blog, I’ve begun a business (follow the link if you’re curious…). I’ve learned how to be a beginner again and I am loving every moment of it.
I was browsing my collection of quotes and stopped at this one from Marlena de Blasi. This. This is how it felt to me when I walked out the door and into the sunlight on the other side. I felt released from the need to keep trying to be someone who, deep down, I just am not. I hadn’t given myself the permission to say it or the freedom to believe it. I think perhaps the corporate life was me once. I’d hustled and I had reached for big goals and I had thrown myself into roles that stretched my skills and confidence and abilities and I had thrived on the energy. I do not want to suggest that I had a tough life, not by any stretch of the imagination has my career path been hard. I’ve been fortunate all the way along, opportunities have materialised at the right time, mentors and teachers appeared when I needed guidance. No, I’ve been privileged in the workplace.
Leaving was actually tricky because it seemed I was giving up ALL of it. Years of effort and reputation building and professional credibility. Gone.
But… not lost.
It turns out that walking out the door forced me to see and value who I am and what I know. Without the constant hustle I had, for the first time in my life, the space to step back and look at all of it. Everything I had done, what I had seen, what I had learned.
Is it an age thing? I actually don’t think it is. The fact it’s taken me this many years to find my own balance is particular just to me and who I am. I’ve known some incredible people who somehow were born with the ability to see through the nonsense and own their space and I know some equally awesome people who are both older than me and are still in the violent thrall of ‘not-enoughness’.
A recent New Yorker article considered the issue of the imposter phenomenon. You know it, don’t you? That deep seated belief that everyone knows more than you, is more capable and competent than you are, has some secret ability that is out of your reach or learned the key information that explains everything on the day you were away. And the worst bit? The worst bit is the voice in your head that so loudly tells you that they are going to find out how silly you are one day…
… whenever I’d hear white friends talk about imposter syndrome, I’d wonder, how can you think you’re an imposter when every mold was made for you? When you see mirror reflections of yourself everywhere and versions of what your success might look like?
New Yorker 6 Feb 2023
Ah. That stopped me in my tracks. Good point. That ‘privilege’ thing catches me when I least expect it and I’m always grateful to have it pointed out. When every piece of evidence points towards the suggestion that you’re doing ok here, what on earth are we thinking by doubting it? Isn’t it easier / more pleasant / correct to take some of what we see as the truth? I certainly struggled to do this. The article goes into the very real issues of how the system is set up to make us feel that way… but I’m not going there. Another day perhaps. You and I both know that this sensation of being an imposter is a real feeling… and we both know it is usually ridiculous. The fear of being exposed as inadequate. Ugh. Fear. Again! We have all felt a version of this at some point in our lives. Well, I tell myself we have all felt it, it makes it far easier to deal with something like this in the company of others!
This week, in yet another moment of synchronicity (coincidence), I heard Hugh Van Cuylenberg (The Resilience Project and The Imperfects podcast, a favourite of mine) speaking about the three things that happy people do.
They practice gratitude, empathy and mindfulness.
Every. Single. Day.
Such simple things to do. So easy to forget to do them! I’ve made an effort to practice this year and I’m getting better at them. Empathy is natural to me, mindfulness a skill I’ve developed over decades (and many solo walks), and gratitude something I’ve needed to bring to the forefront of my mind and work on until it’s become a daily habit.
I’ve discovered that my gorgeous ring is not a fake. It’s not a diamond imposter either. It does everything it says on the box. This ring is pretty, it fits and it makes me happy. It’s real to me and it’s as valuable to me as any expensive piece of ‘real’ jewellery could be. I look at it and it’s a symbol of those important behaviours that lead to happiness. Gratitude. Empathy. Mindfulness. It’s a GEM.
So I invite you to wear your costume jewellery. The sparklier, the shinier, the better! I also invite you to reclaim your confidence. Ask questions when you don’t understand. I guarantee there will be someone else in the room who is relieved to know they aren’t the only ones who needed more information. Be proud of who you are and the unique things you bring to the world. Stand tall when you say your bit, for your words are worthwhile. You are not an imposter.
My ring is a GEM. So am I. And so, my dear friends, are you.
Shine bright.
OMG….. tears again!!! You always seem to know how to say what I need to hear ♥️
Oh! I hope they are the good sort of tears 🥲