Imposter Syndrome

I’m going to a networking event on Tuesday. I gotta have business cards and a one-minute pitch for what I do. The problem is, I have no idea what I do.

I’m 23. Technically an adult—I vote and drive myself around and have whiskey on the shelf… and apparently I have marketable skills. Apparently. Raise your hand if you know what I mean.

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far for my pitch:

Hi! I’m Ria, and I’m here to help you knock projects off your list. I work hourly, so nothing you can throw at me is off the table.

I specialise in the written word—writing, editing, proofreading, and everything in between—but I can also provide skills like graphic design and photography. One of my greatest strengths? I’m a digital native, so if I don’t know how to use your software, I will tomorrow.

Sounds great, right? I mean, I know it’s not a full minute, but for a start, it really sounds like I know what I’m talking about, right?

I’ll tell you a secret: it’s all bullshit.

No, no, no, I don’t mean I’m lying; I really can do all the things I said, but when I say it out loud I go, “Who the hell is this woman who knows what’s going on and how to do stuff?”

I should clarify. As I’m writing this, I’m sitting out in the lobby during church (grown-ups sit in the sanctuary and don’t do anything but listen, right? They pay attention) wearing a dress that doesn’t reach my knees (grown-ups are supposed to be modest, right?) torn converse (not a grown-up shoe) and an Elmo tie (no comment).

I’m going to a big adult professional networking event on Tuesday.

Well, let me tell you another secret. When I go, I’m going to be so adult and professional and put together, no one there will even be able to tell I’ve ever worn an Elmo tie with a blue checkered dress. They’re going to look at me and think, “Wow, this young woman sure has this adult thing figured out. If only I could be that confident.” Know why? Because growing up is a myth.

I’m great at what I do. My clients rave about me. When I’m done working (or sometimes before; don’t tell anybody) I go play Halo and then watch some YouTube video about how coffee is technically a soup (it’s true, but that’s a whole other conversation).

My point is this: yeah, I don’t feel like I belong in a professional space, I don’t feel like a grown-up, I don’t think I fit the stereotype, and experience has led me to believe that there is nobody in the world who doesn’t know the exact feelings I’m talking about.

My skills speak for themselves. I’m good at my job, and I’m not afraid to also do things that make me happy.

That’s not being an imposter, that’s being a person.