re: imposter syndrome

I’m not a stranger to imposter syndrome. When I relaunched my editing business almost a year ago, a part of me wondered if I really knew what I was doing. Who am I to start a business and coach writers? What makes me think I can do this?

I’ve never had a 9–5 salaried position. I graduated college and moved to Portland, Oregon, a place not exactly known as a publishing hub. I didn’t have any roadmap for freelancing and picked up the occasional assignment through my small network of college peers.

I’m one year into running a formal editing business, and I vacillate often between heavy doses of imposter syndrome and entrepreneurial excitement and inspiration. I’ve invested in a branding course and a business coaching group. I have big ideas for this little business and so, so much still to learn.

My hours are unpredictable, and I usually work from my couch or car. My work-for-home setup is usually punctuated by clearing the crusts from PB&Js and escaping to the local Starbucks for a couple hours of focus. In a marketing coaching call I tuned into last week I wrote down this affirmation: No one else does what I do the way I do it.

I want my writers to know the same thing: No one else can tell the story you’re telling the way you tell it. I don’t think that imposter syndrome will go away any time soon. But the more I lean into this business and the vision I have for it, the better I get at showing imposter syndrome the door. The more you write, the better you’ll become at not only telling your story, but also at silencing your inner critic.

You’ve got this. And so have I.