Drop Your Imposter Syndrome and Find Your Writing Groove

It’s all in your mind anyway. Let it go and watch yourself soar.

Imposter syndrome: (n) a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist despite evident success.

Once Upon I Time, I Wrote. . . Things

I used to have serious imposter syndrome. I was a writer by profession, sort of. Well, writing was a major part of my job description.

Working for a small, broke non-profit, everyone wears a lot of hats. All the writing eventually landed in my lap. A dreaded task for my co-workers, the highlight of my to-do list for me.

Grant writing. Speeches. Copywriting. Marketing content. . . I was bored. Sure, I was writing, but my creativity wasn’t being utilized.

My voice was nowhere. The pen was touching the paper, but I wasn’t producing the content I was constantly drafting in my head.

Next Life Chapter: Still an Impostor

When my boys were babies, I stayed home to raise them. Scrolling through my iPhone with Barney blabbing in the background and a baby to my breast, I faithfully followed writers on Facebook who were posting story after published story.

These authors were writing exactly the types of pieces I wanted to write. Their style and tone I knew I could skillfully execute.

In some cases, I thought that I could have written it better. Or at it least with more personality.

But, the difference was that they were writing. They were doing the work. I was just a loser writer wannabe sitting on my couch, judging.

Who the hell was I to think I was better than them?

I had become an envious reader — the worst type of reader.

• I knew I had the talent.
• I knew I had the time.
• I knew I had the motivation.

My problem was that I didn’t know how to get my work into the proper hands.

My past writing experiences were all salaried or contracted assignments. Once completed, I knew who was expecting my work.

The stories in my head — the stories that would bang against my skull, trying to find a way into printed words — well, I had no idea how to sell them. I didn’t know how to get them where they belonged.

I knew the neighborhood where I wanted to live, but I didn’t know how to find a realtor.

Why even bother writing stories, if you don’t know what you’ll do with them?

Imposter in Action

I grabbed my super-stalky big girl shovel and I dug. I identified three writers whose work I admired — whose work sounded similar to mine, both in content and voice.

I spent hours sifting through their biographies, clicking links to sites where they’d been published.

I jotted down everything about their writing journeys that have led them to multiple publication opportunities.

I could have written an exact timeline of the steps they took to become successful. When I put on my detective panties, I tend to go a wee bit overboard. Not ashamed.

Finding Success: Still Feeling like an Impostor

I submitted articles, mainly about motherhood and marriage, to various websites where my writing idols had also been published.

Surprisingly, I had a few accepted, with payment. Cha-ching.

My social channels gained traction, my blog finally started to see some action. Emphasis on some.

But, it wasn’t enough. Impostor syndrome prevailed. I still felt overwhelmed, and lost. I needed a manual. I needed a stiff drink. I needed a mentor.

I needed someone to virtually hold my hand and guide me to my success.

I needed help from an established writer. Luckily for me, the internet makes it simple to track people down.

Desperate Times Call for Creepy Measures

I preyed up my #1 writer-crush. With minimal effort, I located her email address.

Should I reach out to her? What the hell, what have I got to lose? She knows exactly how to get to where I want to be. Maybe I’ll ask her to help me. She seems nice.

Since I jumped on the writing scene a little late in the game (or so I thought), I was willing to pay. An investment, if you will. No different than purchasing a writing reference book or taking an online course on craft.

• You pay for knowledge.
• You pay to better yourself.
• You pay to advance your career.

She responded quickly and kindly. We agreed on an arrangement. I could email her my questions whenever they popped up. Editing drafts optional.

She would clock her time spent reading and responding to my emails and invoice me via PayPal accordingly.

I had found my ace in the hole. Writing success, here I come.

What Went Wrong

My emails to my mentor were teeming with inquiries regarding pitching, editors, social media, and research.

Her replies were quick, informative and professional. Encouraging.

She was direct, yet friendly. She was matter-of-fact, yet approachable.

She was my age, yet I felt like an awkward child.

Here’s the thing: She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.

• I knew how to pitch; I had already had a few things published.
• I knew the fine balance between personality and professionalism when introducing yourself to an editor.
• I knew the benefits of social media, but the dangers of letting it suck up all your time.
• I knew about varying sentence structure and rhythm in prose.

Why was I asking for answers I already knew?

So Long, Impostor!

I had been ready all along. I was never an impostor. I’ve been a real writer since the days of writing grant proposals in a non-air conditioned office.

The thing that’s been holding me back from becoming the writer I knew I could be was fear.

• Fear of failure.
• Fear of being pegged as an impostor.
• Fear of the vulnerability that comes with personal essay writing.

What Does the Future Hold?

Maybe there are writers out there stalking me right now. Hi.

Maybe someone has read my work and thought, “I wish I had written that.”

Maybe one day someone will reach out and ask me how I got to where I am.

For now, I’m just going to enjoy my journey. It’s all mine. The highs. The lows. And all the in-betweens.

I’m going to follow the path I’ve paved for myself. I hope to see you again along the way.

Emme L. Beckett is a former non-profit speechwriter turned mommy blogger turned essayist, and an occasional humorist. If she likes your work, you’ve definitely been stalked. Consider yourself warned.